from
the rim of the walls. Lake was wounded, hindering the swift flight
necessary to escape deeper into the canyon. Here they hid for days,
while the Mormon recovered and the Indian took stealthy trips to try to
locate the enemy. Lack of water and grass for the burros drove them
on. They climbed out of a side canyon, losing several burros on a rough
trail, and had proceeded to within half a day's journey of Red Lake
when they were attacked while making camp in a cedar grove. Shefford
sustained an exceedingly painful injury to his leg, but, fortunately,
the bullet went through without breaking a bone. With that burning pain
there came to Shefford the meaning of fight, and his rifle grew hot in
his hands. Night alone saved the trio from certain fatality. Under the
cover of darkness the Indian helped Shefford to escape. Joe Lake looked
out for himself. The pack-train was lost, and the mustangs, except
Nack-yal.

Shefford learned what it meant to lie out at night, listening for
pursuit, cold to his marrow, sick with dread, and enduring frightful
pain from a ragged bullet-hole. Next day the Indian led him down into
the red basin, where the sun shone hot and the sand reflected the heat.
They had no water. A wind arose and the valley became a place of flying
sand. Through a heavy, stifling pall Nas Ta Bega somehow got Shefford to
the trading-post at Red Lake. Presbrey attended to Shefford's injury
and made him comfortable. Next day Joe Lake limped in, surly and somber,
with the news that Shadd and eight or ten of his outlaw gang had gotten
away with the pack-train.

In short time Shefford was able to ride, and with his companions went
over the pass to Kayenta. Withers already knew of his loss, and all he
said was that he hoped to meet Shadd some day.

Shefford showed a reluctance to go again to the hidden village in the
silent canyon with the rounded walls. The trader appeared surprised, but
did not press the point. And Shefford meant sooner or later to tell him,
yet never quite reached the point. The early summer brought more work
for the little post, and Shefford toiled with the others. He liked the
outdoor tasks, and at night was grateful that he was too tired to think.
Then followed trips to Durango and Bluff and Monticello. He rode fifty
miles a day for many days. He knew how a man fares who packs light and
rides far and fast. When the Indian was with him he got along well,
but Nas Ta Bega would not go near the towns.