of the trails of a hard
land. He has made his choice to go asleep here in the place where you
tell me the gods are near. He does not want us to have sad hearts, for
he was very sad and very tired, and he will not need food, Tula."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply, only unbound her
hair as she had seen mourning women do, and seated herself apart, her
face hidden in her arms.

"No one is left to mourn but me, and I mourn!" she half chanted. "I
say it for the mother of me, and for my sister, that the ghosts may
listen. Happily he is going now from hard trails! He has chosen at
this place! Happily he has chosen, and only we are sad. No debt is
ours to pay at this place; he has chosen--and a life is paid at El
Alisal! Happily he will find the trail of the birds from this place,
and the trail of the clouds over the high mountain. No one is left to
mourn but me; and I mourn!"

Rhodes understood no word of her lamentations, chanted now loudly, now
lowly, at intervals hour after hour that day. He set grimly to work
digging a grave in the lower part of the ravine, gathering dry grass
for lining as best he could to make clear to the girl that no lack of
care or honor was shown the last man of Cajame's stock.

The work took most of the day, for he carried stone and built a wall
around the grave and covered it with slatelike slabs gathered from a
shattered upheaval of long ago.

Tula watched all this gravely, and with approval, for she drew with
her finger the mark of the sun symbol on one of the slabs.

"It is well to make that mark," she said, "for the sons of Cajame were
priests of the sun. The sign is on the great rock of the trail, and it
is theirs."

With the chisel he carved the symbol as she suggested, glad to do
anything for the one mourner for the dead man who had offered the
treasure of the desert to him.

"That is how he made choice," she said when it was marked plainly.
"Me, I think he was leading us on the night trail to this place--I
think so. He is here to guard the gold of El Alisal for you. That is
how it will be. He has made choice."

Kit got away by himself to think over the unexpected situation. The
girl climbed to a higher point, seated herself, and continued her
chant of mourning. He knew she was following, as best she knew, the
traditional formalities of a woman for the death of a chief. He found
himself more affected by that brave fatalistic recital, now loud and
brave, now wei