The moonlight had
increased, and a silver sheen threw up the surrounding scene into
indistinct relief. Beyond, to his right, he detected a small patch of
scrub and spruce, and, without a second thought, he made for it.
A minute later he was out of the saddle beside his horse, screened from
view of the plains by a belt of bush. He secured his horse and moved
to the fringe of his shelter. Here he took up a position facing south,
and his view of the plains beyond became uninterrupted.
He knew what was coming. Instinct warned him. Perhaps even it was the
wish fathering his belief. He felt it was a certainty that the
rustlers were out pursuing their depredations with their customary
unchallenged daring. Who, he wondered, was the present victim, and
what was the extent of the raid?
He had not long to wait. The sound grew. It lost its distant
continuity and became broken into the distinct hoof beats of large
numbers. Furthermore, by the sound of it, they would pass right across
his front. He had been wise in seeking cover.
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