Two light, but warm, blankets, folded closely, were tied behind him.

The tanned face and the lithe, strong figure showed a wonderful degree of health and strength.
Several hours passed and the horseman rode on steadily though slowly.
His main direction was toward the west, and always he kept the river two or three hundred yards on his left.

He never failed to search the plains on either side, but chiefly in the south, with the eager, intent gaze that missed nothing.

But the lonesome gray land, cut by the coiling yellow river, still rolled before him, and its desolation and chill struck to his heart.

It was the depth of the Texan winter, and, at times, icy gusts, born in far mountains, swept across the plains.
The rider presently turned his horse toward the river and stopped on a low bluff overlooking it.