They were too
frightened to talk; not only the paralysing awe of the earthquake was
upon them, but the least imaginative saw his home levelled to the
ground, his relatives and friends trodden down into the cracking earth.
Hills lay between them and the Casa Encarnacion.
There were two exits from the valley where the branding had taken place:
one, very narrow, to the right, which led directly to the house, the
other straight ahead, almost as broad as the valley itself. The boys saw
at a glance that pursued and pursuers had taken the more spacious way,
and they followed without consultation.
The crushed grass looked like green blood, but there was no other
evidence of slaughter; the mustangs had been fleeter than the cattle.
The latter had evidently kept well together, for on either side of a
swath some three hundred yards in width, the grass stood high.
They were in a wide valley now; they could see the great mountains,
still faint under their vapourous mist, the redwoods as rigid of outline
as if the heart of the world beneath had never changed its measure. Just
beyond this valley was a wood, then the Mission. Were twenty thousand
hoofs trampling among its ruins?
They left the valley, entered the wood, galloped down its narrow path,
and emerged.
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