Jerry Card had taken to the sage.

Far up the white trail Night came trotting faithfully down.

Venters leaped off, still half blind, reeling dizzily.
In a moment he had recovered sufficiently to have a care for Wrangle.
Rapidly he took off the saddle and bridle.

The sorrel was reeking, heaving, whistling, shaking.

But he had still the strength to stand, and for him Venters had no fears.
As Venters ran back to Black Star he saw the horse stagger on shaking legs into the sage and go down in a heap.