ought of
trying to storm and enter, single-handed, such an impregnable fortress.
And yet, if her friends were there, perhaps they would see her when she
drew near and come to show her the way. Strange that they should have
gone on and left her with those treacherous Indians! Strange that they
should have trusted them so, in the first place! Her own instincts had
been against trusting the man from the beginning. It must be confessed
that during her reflections at this point her opinion of the wisdom and
judgment of the Brownleighs was lowered several notches. Then she began
to berate herself for having so easily been satisfied about her escort.
She should have read the letter more carefully. She should have asked
the Indians more questions. She should, perhaps, have asked Jasper
Kemp's advice, or got him to talk to the Indian. She wished with all her
heart for Bud, now. If Bud were along he would be saying some comical
boy-thing, and be finding a way out of the difficulty. Dear, faithful
Bud!

The sun rose higher and the morning grew hotter. As she descended to the
valley her burdens grew intolerable, and several times she almost cast
them aside. Once she lost sight of her pony among the sage-brush, and it
was two hours before she came to him and was able to capture him and
strap on her burdens. She was almost too exhausted to climb into the
saddle when all was ready; but she managed to mount at last and started
out toward the rugged crag ahead of her.

The pony had a long, hot climb out of the valley to a hill where she
could see very far again, but still that vast emptiness reigned. Even
the eagle had disappeared, and she fancied he must be resting like a
great emblem of freedom on one of the points of the castle-like
battlement against the sky. It seemed as if the end of the world had
come, and she was the only one left in the universe, forgotten, riding
on her weary horse across an endless desert in search of a home she
would never see again.

Below the hill there stretched a wide, white strip of sand, perhaps two
miles in extent, but shimmering in the sun and seeming to recede ahead
of her as she advanced. Beyond was soft greenness--something
growing--not near enough to be discerned as cornfields. The girl drooped
her tired head upon her horse's mane and wept, her courage going from
her with her tears. In all that wide universe there seemed no way to go,
and she was so very tired, hungry, hot, and discouraged! Th