Every minute seemed an age, yet it was only ten minutes after they left Lois’ house before they were back; and a few minutes later Raquel had the new horse nicely blanketed and saddled with the patched-up saddle, roping the cinch rings together. A rope bridle was rigged from the pieces with which the animal had been hobbled. With Lois mounted, they went quietly side by side down through the grapefruit grove, plucking a number of the big fruits as they passed. Behind the last house should be the trail which Raquel’s host of the night before had described. She could not in the least remember what direction they had taken to Escondido before. Now she was too far to the right. “Above the houses,” the old woman had said. Ah, there it was, a fair trail surely! And they were on it, winding over foothills in a northeasterly direction. All this while Lois remained silent, dazed. But as they dropped down into an arroyo, out of sight of the rest of the world, she whispered timidly, “Where are we going, Raquel?” “To a ranch called El Escondido, where I hope to find my brother Georgie, and where we can be very comfortable and safe. It’s not far, and we’ll rest by the river we are coming to, and eat something before we start across.” It was very hot there in the sandhills, with no protection from the blazing sun. Before them a peccary scuttled away with her drove of young. Lois’ face was like the white flower of the _Lilia de la Crucifixion_. “Just a _coche Javalina_, the wild pig of this country,” Raquel reassured her. Pigs did not seem formidable to Lois and she relaxed in her saddle. Raquel was glad that the fierce old sow had not seen fit to charge them, for a horse will run from a peccary. Over another hill still! But it was the last, and below them ran a sluggish, muddy stream, yellow and swollen with the rains. There were no trees along the river, only mesquite bushes, Spanish dagger and stunted palms. Lois was already exhausted, though they had ridden scarcely an hour, and Raquel felt as happy as a lizard in the sun. “How much farther?” Lois gasped. “Come, dear, try to pull yourself together.” Raquel spoke sharply, for a glance at Lois showed her that she was letting go of what reserve force she had. Lois winced as if she had been struck, but closed her lips tightly and held desperately to the saddle horn. Raquel rode close and put an arm about her. They reached the sandy flats of the river bed and Raquel leaped off, lifting Lois from her horse. Quickly she sought the one large spot of shade beneath a maguey plant and, spiking the burlap sack and the saddle blankets from one thorn to another, contrived a nice bit of shade. She pulled out a clean shirt that Lois had given her and wet it in the stream; then hurried back to fan Lois. A slight breeze was stirring, and it was surprisingly cooler there in the shade by the river.