amination of the ground.

Nalik'ideyu and Naginlta, Tsoay, watched and listened as if the coyotes
as well as the boy could understand every word.

"There is that also--" Tsoay indicated the one trace left by the unknown
rider, an impression blurred as if some attempt had been made to conceal
it.

"Small and light, the rider is both. Also in fear, I think--"

"We follow?" Tsoay asked.

"We follow," Travis assented. He looked to the coyotes, and as he had
learned to do, thought out his message. This trail was the one to be
followed. When the rider was sighted they were to report back if the
Apaches had not yet caught up.

There was no visible agreement; the coyotes simply vanished through the
wall of grass.

"Then there are others here," Tsoay said as he and Travis began their
return to the foothills. "Perhaps there was a second ship--"

"That horse," Travis said, shaking his head. "There was no provision in
the project for the shipping of horses."

"Perhaps they have always been here."

"Not so. To each world its own species of beasts. But we shall know the
truth when we look upon that horse--and its rider."

It was warmer this side of the mountains, and the heat of the plains
beat at them. Travis thought that the horse might well be seeking water
if allowed his head. Where did he come from? And why had his rider gone
in haste and fear?

This was rough, broken country and the tired, limping horse seemed to
have picked the easiest way through it, without any hindrance from the
man with him. Travis spotted a soft patch of ground with a deep-set
impression. This time there had been no attempt at erasure; the boot
track was plain. The rider had dismounted and was leading the horse--yet
he was moving swiftly.

They followed the tracks around the bend of a shallow cut and found
Nalik'ideyu waiting for them. Between her forefeet was a bundle still
covered with smears of soft earth, and behind her were drag marks from a
hole under the overhang of a bush. The coyote had plainly just
disinterred her find. Travis squatted down to examine it, using his eyes
before his hands.

It was a bag made of hide, probably the hide of one of the split horns
by its color and the scraps of long hair which had been left in a
simple decorative fringe along the bottom. The sides had been laced
together neatly by someone used to working in leather, the closing flap
lashed down tightly with braided thong loops.

As the Apache leane