r is often the result of a private vendetta. The brave is bound,
not only by natural affection and family pride, but still more powerfully
by sense of honor and by public opinion, to avenge the slaughter of a
relative. Whether he wishes it or not, and frequently no doubt when he
does not wish it, he must black his face, sing his death-song, set out
alone if need be, encounter labors, hardships, and dangers, and never rest
until his sanguinary account is settled. The tyranny of Mrs. Grundy in
civilized cities and villages is nothing to the despotism which she
exercises among those slaves of custom, the red men of the American
wildernesses. Manga Colorada, bereaved and with blackened face, lay in
wait for the first step of the emigrants outside of their city of refuge.

We must return to Coronado. Although Clara's rejection of his suit left
him vindictively and desperately eager for a catastrophe of some sort, a
week elapsed before he dared take his mad plunge into the northern desert.
It was a hundred miles to the San Juan; the intervening country was a
waste of rocks, almost entirely destitute of grass and water; the mules
and horses must recruit their full strength before they could undertake
such a journey. They must not only be strong enough to go, but they must
have vital force left to return.

It is astonishing what labors and dangers the man was willing to face in
his vain search for a spot where he might commit a crime in safety. Such a
spot is as difficult to discover as the Fountain of Youth or the
Terrestrial Paradise. More than once Coronado sickened of his seemingly
hopeless and ever lengthening pilgrimage of sin. Not because it was
sinful--he had little or no conscience, remember--only because it was
perplexing and perilous.

It was in vain that Thurstane protested against the crazy trip northward.
Coronado sometimes argued for his plan; said the route improved as it
approached the river; hoped the party would not be broken up in this
manner; declared that he could not spare his dear friend the lieutenant.
Another time he calmly smoked his cigarito, looked at Thurstane with
filmy, expressionless eyes, and said, "Of course you are not obliged to
accompany us."

"I have not the least intention of quitting you," was the rather indignant
reply of the young fellow.

At this declaration Coronado's long black eyebrows twitched, and his lips
curled with the smile of a puma, showing his teeth disagreeably.

"M