But nothing came, and soon he became quite sure that he had shaken him off.

He was merely a dot in the wilderness in the dark, and, feeling secure now, he pressed forward with more speed.
He was hoping to get to a piece of firm, high ground, where he might secure a measure of protection from those terrible mosquitoes which still buzzed angrily about his head.

In an hour chance favored him, as he reached a low ridge much rockier than usual in that region.

He would have built a little smudge fire to protect himself from the mosquitoes, but it would be sure to draw the lurking sharpshooter, and instead he found a nook in the ridge, under the low boughs of a great oak.

Then he took a light blanket which he carried tied to his saddlebags, and wrapped it around his neck and face, covering everything but his mouth and eyes.
He sank into the nook with his back against the turf, and the reclining position was wonderfully easy.