To-morrow, it is likely, we'll have a fifty-mile ride or more, if those Black Hillers get sobered down to their work.

They'll do well if they make their twenty to-day." Pond went and bathed his face and hands in the limpid water before eating, and as he expressed it, "rubbed the sleep" out of his eyes; then he went at the toothsome steak with appetite not at all impaired by the pure open air he was breathing.
The meal, taken with comfort and deliberation, occupied a half hour or more, and as there were no dishes to wash, "clearing up things" only consisting in tossing the bones out of the way, wiping their knives on a bunch of grass, scouring them with a plunge or two in the dry sand, they were all ready for next meal-time.
"Your horse hears something, so does mine," said the Texan, pointing to the animals, which suddenly stopped feeding, and with their ears pricked forward, looked off to the east-ward.
"I can see nothing.

What can alarm them!" said Pond.
"They hear the tramp of the Black Hills party, I think.

Horses have far better hearing than we have, and will feel a jar of the ground that would not attract our attention.

I want no better sentinel than my mustang, and your Black Hawk seems to take to the watch by instinct.