To settle the question the pursuit was forced, and they overtook a couple of mavericks or stray cattle. One of them was turned to account, for Strubell shot it, and the party went into camp.
It was high time they did so, for their ponies were worn out and they themselves were tired and sleepy. Enough fuel was found to start a fire, over which a good meal was prepared, sufficient being cooked and laid aside to allow them to keep up the pursuit for a couple of days without stopping for food.
The fear of Herbert Watrous was that a mistake had been made by his friends who had wandered from the trail, but when daylight dawned, and the Texans made an investigation, they found they were right. Rickard and Slidham were following the very course named by them—that is, in the direction of New Mexico.
“It looks as if it’s going to be a long chase,” said Strubell; “but unless something unexpected happens we shall win.”
NOW came several days’ experience, so similar in its main features that it is not worth while to describe it in detail.
The Texans and Herbert Watrous pushed their ponies to the verge of prudence; but though the skill of the cowboys saved them from going astray, and there never was any danger of losing the trail of the fugitives, they failed to catch sight of them during that period.
They knew that Nick Ribsam rode a horse fully the equal, if not the superior, of those following him, and it was shown that Bell Rickard and Harman Slidham were well mounted. It was easy, therefore, for the three to cover the same ground as their pursuers, and, having as good a start, there was little prospect of the parties gaining sight of each other until those in advance chose to permit it.
Herbert Watrous will never forget that long ride through Western Texas. Had he not undergone a severe preparation he never could have stood it, for it seemed to him that he was in the saddle all the time, except when stretched on the earth asleep. Jill, his faithful pony, developed astonishing endurance, but though the Texans got everything possible out of the animals, they were too prudent to force them to a killing pace; all stood it well.
During that extended ride many streams were crossed. One of them was the North Fork of the Concho, properly the Colorado, on which the capital of Texas stands. Although at certain seasons this becomes a raging torrent, the horses forded it from bank to bank without once losing their feet. Indeed, only for a few paces did the water touch the stirrups of the riders.