SON OF THE WIND
place, set high above, he might observe the trend of mountain and valley, the direction of the river, whose voice had reached him from a distance; he might choose, from here, the route best for his compass to follow; perhaps sight certain places more likely than others for the habitat of a horse, some place in the course of the river where a wild creature might go to drink. The window had a look of having been purposely set there by fate. From the top of the watershed, on the following morning, he pointed it out to Esmeralda Charley, just as the sun was getting up over the great head, crowning it with a circlet of terrible gold. The little half-breed, blinking at the sight, let drop unexpectedly the thought of a philosopher. Rocks like that, he observed, that were meant to be looked at, never meant anything more. Carron bit his lip. He knew he was taking a chance as wide as the cañon, but wide chances were all the hope he had in sight.
They would have a little closer look at it anyway, he determined. Here they were at the point nearest to the hills. At the worst they would not have more than three miles. The long back of the watershed stretched with a gentle downward slant out toward the wall of Sugar Loafs, and together the two began to work their way forward along it, among the rocks and bushes.
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