He followed the sorrel into the narrowing split between the walls, and presently had to desist because he could not see a foot in advance.

As he went back toward the open Wrangle jumped out of an ebony shadow of cliff and like a thunderbolt shot huge and black past him down into the starlit glade.

Deciding that all attempts to catch Wrangle at night would be useless, Venters repaired to the shelving rock where he had hidden saddle and blanket, and there went to sleep.
The first peep of day found him stirring, and as soon as it was light enough to distinguish objects, he took his lasso off his saddle and went out to rope the sorrel.

He espied Wrangle at the lower end of the cove and approached him in a perfectly natural manner.

When he got near enough, Wrangle evidently recognized him, but was too wild to stand.
He ran up the glade and on into the narrow lane between the walls.