Old Jack hunted grass and, finding none, rubbed Ned's elbow with his nose suggestively.
"Never mind, old boy," said Ned, patting the glossy muzzle of his faithful comrade.

"This is no time for feasting and banqueting.

We are hunting Mexicans, you and I, and after that business is over we may consider our pleasures." They remained several hours among the trees.

They saw the last red glow that the sun leaves in the west die away.

They saw the full darkness descend over the earth, and then the stars come trooping out.