The directions of the scout were carefully followed, and Reuben secured a place behind a rocky barrier near the border of the foothills. His companion proceeded two or three miles farther before he, too, concealed himself. By the time each of the trappers had found his hiding-place, Kit Carson had disappeared from sight. Cautiously the scout made his way up the narrow valley or gorge in which the wild horses had sought refuge for the night. The sun had not yet risen above the eastern horizon, but the light of the coming day was already beginning to appear. This hour was selected because, as has been stated, it was believed by the trappers that the horses would leave their shelter among the hills at the approach of day. Reuben, who had dismounted and thrown the bridle over the head of his horse, an act which as effectually prevented his horse from leaving as if he had been tied to a post, impatiently awaited the coming of the day. He now was almost as eager as his friend to secure the wonderful leader of the drove of wild horses. The shining coat and the proud air of the black horse had marked the animal as one not only of unusual beauty, but of marked speed and power as well. In his mind Reuben again saw the arched neck, the long sweeping tail, the high step, and the pride of the animal as in response to his call the twenty-five or more horses followed his lead. Surely he was worthy of all that the effort to catch him might cost. The horses which the trappers had selected for the chase were all fleet, but as Reuben glanced at his own beast he smiled as he thought of the possibility of the black leader being overtaken by such an animal. To divide the pursuit into relays was the only feasible plan. And his own part, provided the wild leader turned southward, would not be slight. There was, however, the possibility that instead of turning either northward or to the south the black leader might move directly toward the east. In that event pursuit would be well-nigh hopeless. There were no horses in the possession of the trappers that would be able to overtake the fleet-footed leader in a straight chase across the plains. A half-hour slowly passed and still no signs of Kit Carson or of the wild horses had been seen. A second half-hour passed and still the silence was unbroken. The sun was now well above the horizon and the peaks of the mountains were capped with light. Indeed, the glory of the coming day was already reflected from the snowclad mountain peaks, from the occasional little lakes on the mountainside, and from the crags and rocks that were to be seen in whichever direction Reuben looked. The air, too, was marvellous, and Reuben said to himself that, as he breathed it, it almost seemed to him as if he could bite it, it was so strong and bracing.