He returned to the pass assured that Wildfire had at last fallen into a trap the like Slone had never dreamed of.

The great horse was doomed to run into living flame or the whirling noose of a lasso.
Then Slone reflected.

Nagger had that very morning had his fill of good water--the first really satisfying drink for days.

If he was rested that day, on the morrow he would be fit for the grueling work possibly in store for him.

Slone unsaddled the horse and turned him loose, and with a snort he made down the gentle slope for the grass.