Then he heard a voice. It was not the voice of either of his comrades, nor was it the voice of either outlaw. It was a voice soft and low, the voice of the Rocky Mountains calling to him the way to go; the scarce audible murmur of the stream far in the distance. To Westy the sound was as welcome as a log would be to a man drowning. He heard it, a low, steady ripple, far in the fathomless night. Here was a voice he need not fear, thrice welcome voice that would guide him to his friends and arouse no one.
He ran now in the direction of this distant sound. Now and again he had to pause and listen, so faint was it. Once, when the fitful breeze was wrong, he could not hear it. He paused in the still, lonesome night, caught the faint murmur, and hurried on.
He was not running down hill, that was sure. But the murmur of the brook was louder now; he was approaching it. Soon it had swelled into a merry, little song with an accompaniment of splashing as it hurried over rocks. The cheery preoccupation of the rushing stream was in odd contrast to all about; it seemed so carefree and intent there in the very neighborhood of the most harrowing experience of Westy’s life. It was quite happy and at home, alone in the Rockies.
Presently he reached it and knew that he was at a point about half a mile below the cleft. Instead of going straight toward the cleft he had descended the hill southward, converging toward the brook, and reaching it at a point where it had flowed down into comparatively level country. He stood near a large rock which he remembered passing when they had followed the stream up to the cleft.
And now, nerve-racked and fatigued in body, his bare feet sore and bleeding, Westy paused for just a moment to make sure of his direction. He knew where he was, the rock was like an oasis in the trackless desert, and the brook was like a trail. But he was not going to trifle with his good fortune now. He would verify every surmise. He would not make a mistake in his elation. He could see nothing. In which direction, then, was the cleft?
He was almost certain about this; yes, of course ............