noon
In front , facing the desert , was a heap of rock that formed a natural rampart . A tiny spring bubbled from the cave floor . Here the little party would seem as secure in their dizzy seclusion as eagles of the Andes . It was barely noon and the mountain air was sweet and exhilarating . Kut-le sat against the rampart , smoking a cigarette , while Molly and Cesca worked over the fire . Rhoda lunched on the tortillas to which Molly had clung through all the vicissitudes of flight . `` Where are the horses ? ''