Therefore, he braced himself for the arduous task.
In the afternoon they reached a tableland where traveling was slightly easier; but when they camped without a fire among the rocks, one of Harding's feet was bleeding, and he was very weary.

Walking was painful for the first hour after they started again at dawn, but after walking a while his galled foot troubled him less, and he doggedly followed the Indian up and down deep ravines and over rough stony slopes.

Then they reached stunted timber: thickly massed, tangled pines, with many dead trees among them, a number which had fallen, barring the way.

The Indian seemed tireless; Harding could imagine his muscles having been toughened into something different from ordinary flesh and blood.

He was feeling great distress; but for the present there was only one thing for him to do, and that was to march.