We'll eat, and then turn in, for rest will come good to both of us." The horses plunged off to the water and drank, and then went to cropping the luxuriant grass, while their masters ate their suppers with appetites strengthened by their long and wearying ride.
After they had supped, Willie Pond would, as usual, have enjoyed his dainty cigarette, had not the Texan warned him that tobacco smoke would scent farther than any other, and might be more dangerous, in betraying their presence, than anything else.
So Mr.Pond had to forego his smoke.

He took a blanket, and moving up to a little mossy knoll just under the edge of the cliff, threw himself down to sleep.
The Texan also took his blanket, but he lay down near the saddles and packs.
Pond was so very weary that he soon fell asleep.

How long he slept he did not know, but a strange, oppressive dream woke him, and with the moonlight, shining full in the valley, while he lay shaded beneath a tree and the overhanging cliff, he saw a sight which froze his very heart with a mortal terror.
The ravine by which he and his companion had entered was filled with mounted Indians, who were riding silently into the little valley..