eight o'clock
After a month of drought , it had rained inches in a few hours . The little Rapid Fork of the Cheyenne was a broad flood which carried off most of its bridges , including that on the trail to the Fort . The rain had ceased the day before , but the flood had subsided very little by Saturday night as Hartigan mounted Blazing Star and set out for the fortnightly affair at Fort Ryan . The sky was still blocked with clouds and at eight o'clock it was black dark , so Hartigan left the selection of the trail , as a matter of course , to Blazing Star . From the time of leaving the last light in Cedar Mountain till they drew up under the first lantern at Fort Ryan , Hartigan never saw the horse he was riding , much less the road he was riding on : nor had he touched the reins or given by word or pressure of knee any signal of guidance . The night was too black for his senses , but he knew he was committing his way to senses that were of a keener order than his own , and he rode as a child might -- without thought of fear . He could feel it when they were going down into the canyon of the Rapid Fork , and at the bottom of the slight descent he heard the rush of waters , and noted that Blazing Star lowered his head and snorted softly more than once .