noon
I saw my pursuers coming down the face of the sierra ; but I had still nearly half a mile of start , and , taking the snowy mountain for my guide , I struck out into the open prairie . As I rode off from the mountain foot , the white peak glistened at a distance of thirty miles . There was not a hillock between : not a brake or bush , excepting the low shrubs of the artemisia . It was not yet noon . Could I reach the snowy mountain before sunset ? If so , I trusted in being able to follow our old trail to the mine . Thence , I might keep on to the Del Norte , by striking a branch of the Paloma or some other lateral stream .