Billy lifted his reins.

"Thanks, we'll be getting along, I guess. Just as much obliged to you.
We'll water here in your spring."

They moved on in the direction whither the prospector had pointed.
They rode in silence. Dawn came slowly, clearly. The peaks lifted
magnificently, range after range against the rosy sky. There was no
trail. They followed the possible way. The patient little cow ponies
clambered over rocks and slid down inclines of a frightful angle as
cleverly as mountain goats. At ten o'clock, they stopped for breakfast
and a three hours' sleep. It was some time before DeWitt could be
persuaded to lie down but at last, perceiving that he was keeping the
others from their rest, he took his blanket to the edge of the ledge
and lay down.

His sleepless eyes roved up and down the adjoining cañon. Far to the
south, near the desert floor, he saw a fluttering bit of white. Now a
fluttering bit of white, far from human byways, means something!
Tenderfoot though he was, DeWitt realized this and sleep left his eyes.
He sat erect. For a moment he was tempted to call the others but he
restrained himself. He would let them rest while he kept watch over
the little white beacon, for so, unaccountably, it seemed to him. He
eyed it hungrily, and then a vague comfort and hopefulness came to him
and he fell asleep.

Jack's lusty call to coffee woke him. DeWitt jumped to his feet and
with a new light in his eyes he pointed out his discovery. The meal
was disposed of very hurriedly and, leaving Jack to watch the camp,