He grew steadily stronger, though each time he tried to run or spring a distance of a few feet his legs doubled under him like that.

It took him twenty minutes to get back to the edge of the plain, and when he got there it was empty.

There was no sign of Quade or FitzHugh, or of Joanne and Marie; and there was no one coming from the direction of the mountain.
He tried to run again, and he found that over the level floor of the valley he could make faster time than among the rocks.

He went to where he had dropped his rifle.

It was gone.