The boys would have covered the ground more effectively if they had not been somewhat nervous as a result of the events of the preceding night. They fully expected that the men who had tried to enter their room at the inn would waylay them somewhere on the road that day. The country through which they passed was ideal for such an enterprise, for there was frequent and abundant shelter for an ambush. They were, therefore, constantly on the _qui vive_, and examined rather carefully before passing every spot that seemed favorable for an attack from robbers. Such vigilance retarded their speed, and they had a feeling that they were making very little progress. The packs, too, though not really heavy, were burdensome, and toward night made the boys’ legs, which lately had not been used to tramping, drag distressingly. “I guess those fellows at Timmy got scared last night after all,” remarked Raymond as the day waned and there had been no alarm. “I hope so,” replied Sidney; “a long mountain tramp is bad enough without having to watch out all the time for highwaymen.” “I don’t believe they would have come out so far as this, anyway. There were plenty of good places to hold us up back on the road. What do you say to making camp? I’m dead tired.” “I’m ready to stop. If we don’t get too tired to-day we’ll travel better to-morrow.” “Yes, and the day after, and the day after that, and so on _ad infinitum_. I guess it will take us _ad infinitum_ to get through.” “It won’t do for us to get discouraged at this stage of the game, Ray.” “I’m not discouraged; I’m only ready to quit for the night, and here’s a good place.” The travelers were following up a ravine through which a small stream flowed, a tributary of the larger stream on which Timour Khan Shoura was situated. At the point where Raymond proposed to stop, the wall of the ravine was a rocky bluff that rose nearly perpendicularly. A short spur jutted out, forming a small cove which faced up the ravine and made a well-sheltered spot. Across to the other side the distance was perhaps two hundred yards, and midway flowed the stream. About half a mile farther up, the walls of the ravine drew together until a narrow gorge was formed. The boys unslung their blanket rolls and threw themselves down on the ground with exclamations of relief. The disturbance of the night before, with the nervous strain and consequent loss of sleep, was a greater tax on their strength than they had realized at the time. All day they had been keyed up by the expectation of trouble, which they had been braced to meet and defeat. When the necessity for alertness, as they supposed, was removed, and the tension was relaxed, they settled down, feeling too languid to exert themselves further.