The trail was very
crooked. It seemed to him at such moments as he took note of this
fact, he would save much time by riding due north, but he could not
forget the Indian brothers' reiterated warnings. And, although he
could not throw off a sense of being driven, the desire to arrive
somewhere quickly, still he was strangely content to let Pablo set the
pace.
At noon he dismounted, fed Pablo half the small bag of oats John had
given him, and ate the cold bacon and biscuits John's brother had urged
on him. There was no water for the horse, but Enoch drank deeply from
the canteen and allowed Pablo an hour's rest. Then he mounted and
pushed on, mindful of the necessity of overtaking the miners.
His mind was less calm than it had been the day before, and his
thinking less orderly. He had begun to be nagged by recollections of
office details that he should have settled, of important questions that
awaited his decision. And something deep within him began to tell him
that he was not playing a full man's part in running away. But to this
he replied grimly that he was only seeking for strength to go back.
And finally he muttered that give him two weeks' respite and he would
go back, strength or no strength.
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