The searching eye caught no relief from desolate sameness, drear monotony.
Nowhere was there movement, or, any semblance of life.

Behind, the land was broken by ravines, but in every other direction it stretched level to the horizon, except that far off southward arose irregular ridges of sand, barren, ugly blotches, colorless, and forever changing formation under the beating of a ceaseless wind.

It was desert, across which not even a snake crawled, and no wing of migrating bird beat the leaden sky above.
The marks of their horses' hoofs cutting sharply into the soil, told accurately the fugitives' rate of progress, and the pursuers swept forward with caution, anxious to spare their mounts and to keep out of vision themselves until nightfall.

Their success depended largely on surprise, and the confidence of those ahead that they were unpursued.
Wasson expressed the situation exactly, as the four halted a moment at an unexpectedly-discovered water-hole.
"I 'd think this yere plain trail was some Injun trick, boys, if I did n't know the reason fur it.

'T ain't Injun nature, but thar 's a white man ahead o' that outfit, an' he 's cock-sure that nobody 's chasin' him yet.