He feared that the boy
had been captured on his way down.
Finally, after a rough journey of several hours' duration, the renegade
came to a halt at a point where the summit fell away in two directions,
to the north and to the east. The divide seemed at least three hundred
feet lower than that to the south, and sloped gradually, on the east,
to a desert-like plain, beyond which ran the river. Here the party
turned east toward the river and the boundary.
Jimmie, perched on a ledge facing the north, watched Fremont moving
away with a desire in his heart to send a bullet after the Englishman.
He tried to attract the attention of the captive, but did not succeed.
While the boy lay watching and listening for any sounds of rescuers
coming up the slope, a great rock, somewhere to the south, went tumbling
down the mountain, carrying smaller rocks with it until the rattle of
falling stones sounded like the din of a battle.
The renegade started and looked about suspiciously, doubtless fearing
that the slide had been caused by the incautious feet of a pursuer,
but his companions smiled and informed him that such incidents were
common there and not at all alarming.
Jimmie smiled, too, for when the rattle ceased he heard a Black Bear
growling in a ravine not far away. In a second the snarl of a Wolf
answered the growl of the Bear, and then, almost before he became
aware of their stealthy approach, Frank Shaw and Peter Fenton lay
beside him in his hiding place.
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