They need have no dread of Indians there, and they had left no trail to be followed easily.
They would halt there, for the men needed the rest, and he and Black Bill would take short searches to try and find the Lost Valley and its mysterious people.
Several times in the last day the giant negro had halted and regarded his surroundings in a fixed way. He seemed to be trying to recall some feature in the landscape as though he had seen it before.
It had been two months and more since he was there before, if he had passed that way in his wanderings, and then the trees were bright green, in midsummer.
Now they were changing to autumn tints, and, as is well known, this changed the whole aspect of the country.
The springs the negro had not seen, though there were people from the Lost Valley who had been there.
“Black Bill has been near here before, I feel certain, Sergeant Buck, and our plan is to scout about the mountains until we strike some locality familiar to him.”
“We can all have a rest, and Miller is really not well yet.”
“No, sir, and it is not any wonder, when you think them red devils had his hands tied behind him during all their retreat, and his legs so tightly bound that the flesh was cut into.”
“Yes; but he will rally quickly here and soon will be well.
“He is a brave and noble-hearted man, if he did break the law by invading this country as a gold boomer.”
“He is all you say of him, chief, and the boys are very much attached to him, sir.
“Then, too, sir, he’s another strong arm and brave heart, if we get into trouble, which I now believe we will not, as Black Bill seems to be a terror the redskins won’t face,” said Sergeant Buck.
The spot selected was all that could be wished.
Wikiups were built as a shelter, for the cold nights were coming on, and the men made themselves most comfortable right near a large spring.
Leaves furnished good mattresses to spread blankets upon, the provisions were plentiful, and very little use had been made of the ammunition, save to kill game.
As there was no game near the spring, it was decided to send several scouts on a hunt the next day to get deer, and in the streams the fish were plentiful.
The scouts had realized the virtue of being blacked up in that country, and Don Miller had transferred himself also, in appearance at least, to a negro.