Perhaps, after all, they had chosen the right one.

At the time of their first flight, had they succeeded in reaching the plain above, they would surely have been seen and pursued; though with superior swiftness of foot they might still have escaped.
Once more they faced upward, by the slope of the ravine yet untried.
On passing it, Walt laid hold of his "clout," as he called it, and replaced it, turban fashion, on his head.
"I can only weesh," he said, "I ked as convenient rekiver my rifle; an', darn me, but I would try, ef it war only thar still.

It ain't, I know.
Thet air piece is too precious for a Injun to pass by.

It's gone back to the waggons." They could now more distinctly hear the shouts of their despoilers; and, as they continued the ascent, the narrow chine in the cliff opened between them and the plain, giving them a glimpse of what was there going on.
They could see the savages--some on foot, others on horseback--the latter careering round as if engaged in a tournament.
They saw they were roystering, wild with triumph, and maddened with drink--the fire-water they had found in the waggons.
"Though they be drunk, we mustn't stay hyar so nigh 'em," muttered Walt.
"I allers like to put space atween me and seech as them.

They mout get some whimsey into their heads, an' come this ways.