ns! Travis caught at that identification,
tried to use it as a thread to draw closer to the beginning of his
mystery.

Mexicans.... And he was an Apache, one of the Eagle people, one who rode
with Cochise. No!

Sweat again beaded his face where the water had cooled it. He was not of
that past. He was Travis Fox, of the very late twentieth century, not a
nomad of the middle nineteenth! He was of Team A of the project!

The Arizona desert and then this! From one to the other in an instant.
He looked about him in rising fear. Wait! He had been in the dark when
he got out of the desert, lying in a box. Getting out, he had crawled
down a passage to reach moonlight, strange moonlight.

A box in which he had lain, a passage with smooth metallic walls, and an
alien world at the end of it.

The coyote's ears twitched, her head came up, she was staring at the
man's drawn face, at his eyes with their core of fear. She whined.

Travis caught up the two pieces of horn, thrust them into his sash belt,
and got to his feet. Nalik'ideyu sat up, her head cocked a little to one
side. As the man turned to seek his own back trail she padded along in
his wake and whined for Naginlta. But Travis was more intent now on what
he must prove to himself than he was on the actions of the two animals.

It was a wandering trail, and now he did not question his skill in being
able to follow it so unerringly. The sun was hot. Winged things buzzed
from the bushes, small scuttling things fled from him through the tall
grass. Once Naginlta growled a warning which led them all to a detour,
and Travis might not have picked up the proper trace again had not the
coyote scout led him to it.

"Who are you?" he asked once, and then guessed it would have better been
said, "What are you?" These were not animals, or rather they were more
than the animals he had always known. And one part of him, the part
which remembered the desert rancherias where Cochise had ruled, said
they were spirits. Yet that other part of him.... Travis shook his
head, accepting them now for what they were--welcome company in an alien
place.

The day wore on close to sunset, and still Travis followed that
wandering trail. The need which drove him kept him going through the
rough country of hills and ravines. Now the mist lifted above towering
walls of mountains very near him, yet not the mountains of his memory.
These were dull brown, with a forbidding look, like sun-dried skulls