Mitchell's first move was to send in pursuit of the deserters, with orders to bring them in at all hazards, if found. That last clause was well put in, for Paul Chicot had an easy task in that wild, broken region, in blinding his trail, so that all pursuit was useless. And, with so many long hours the start, it was like sending a horse to run down the locomotive. Long after dark, the different bands straggled in, weary and dejected. Not even a foot-trace had been found to indicate the direction in which the deserters had gone: and now, that faint hope gone, the greater portion of the emigrants gave way to despair. In vain Mitchell strove to cheer them up. He said that it was only a matter of time and patience; that before long some other train must come along which they could join. But the answer came, quick and crushing, because it was the one that was chilling his own heart. It was late in the season. Their train, drawn wholly by oxen, had been long upon the road, and the halt at the "sick-camp" had still further delayed them. They might be the last train on the road--very probably were, since the mountains of California could not be crossed after winter set in. A train might not come along until the spring--and that would be too late. How many of the party could live through a winter in the mountains? The looked-for train would only find their bones. Harassed by such arguments and fears as these, Caleb Mitchell resolved upon a bold course, and yet apparently the only one that was left them. He would make the attempt to guide the train through the mountains himself, at least until they could gain a spot more favorable for a winter's residence than here, if worst came to worst. Fearing to lose more precious time, long before daybreak the next day, the wagon-train was slowly following the lead of Caleb Mitchell, who rode in advance, his heart troubled with fears and doubts, for behind him was the sole remaining tie that made life dear to him, and its fate in a great measure depended upon his skill and prudence. Several hours later, as he saw the crest of a rocky hill, over which the trail led, he abruptly reined in his horse and gazed keenly across the valley before him. He had distinguished the slowly-moving form of human beings, evidently afoot, and the hope that these were the returning deserters set his heart afire. But all too soon this delusion was dispelled, for he now could distinguish the flowing drapery of _a woman_. Anxiously enough he awaited their approach, but as they paused on discovering his figure outlined against the clear sky, he impatiently rode forward. He could now see that there were only two, and the formation of the trail forbid the supposition of an ambush being possible there.