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Agnes was not disposed to dispute him, so they lurched on in silence along the dust-cushioned road. "That ain't the one the Indian girl jumped off of, though," said Smith, meditatively. "Isn't it?" She turned to him quickly, ready for a story from the picturesque strangler of bears. Smith was looking between the ears of the off-leader. He volunteered no more.
The messenger drank deep at an irrigation canal, for he turned away from water when he followed the army, and leaving the level, dust-cushioned road behind, plunged into a rock-strewn, rolling land, desolate and silent. The growing light of the moon was his only advantage. The region became savage, the trail of the army wound hither and thither to avoid sudden eminences or sudden hollows.
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