y and footsore he was. Then he rested. But his eyes
roved to and fro, and his mind was active. What a wild and lonesome
spot! The low murmur of shallow water came up to him from a deep, narrow
cleft. Shadows were already making the canyon seem full of blue haze. He
saw a bare slope of stone out of which cedar-trees were growing. And as
he looked about him he became aware of a singular and very perceptible
change in the lights and shades. The sun was setting; the crags were
gold-tipped; the shadows crept upward; the sky seemed to darken swiftly;
then the gold changed to red, slowly dulled, and the grays and purples
stood out. Shefford was entranced with the beautiful changing effects,
and watched till the walls turned black and the sky grew steely and a
faint star peeped out. Then he set about the necessary camp tasks.

Dead cedars right at hand assured him a comfortable night with steady
fire; and when he had satisfied his hunger he arranged an easy seat
before the blazing logs, and gave his mind over to thought of his weird,
lonely environment.

The murmur of running water mingled in harmonious accompaniment with the
moan of the wind in the cedars--wild, sweet sounds that were balm to his
wounded spirit! They seemed a part of the silence, rather than a break
in it or a hindrance to the feeling of it. But suddenly that silence
did break to the rattle of a rock. Shefford listened, thinking some wild
animal was prowling around. He felt no alarm. Presently he heard the
sound again, and again. Then he recognized the crack of unshod hoofs
upon rock. A horse was coming down the trail. Shefford rather resented
the interruption, though he still had no alarm. He believed he was
perfectly safe. As a matter of fact, he had never in his life been
anything but safe and padded around with wool, hence, never having
experienced peril, he did not know what fear was.

Presently he saw a horse and rider come into dark prominence on the
ridge just above his camp. They were silhouetted against the starry
sky. The horseman stopped and he and his steed made a magnificent black
statue, somehow wild and strange, in Shefford's sight. Then he came on,
vanished in the darkness under the ridge, presently to emerge into the
circle of camp-fire light.

He rode to within twenty feet of Shefford and the fire. The horse was
dark, wild-looking, and seemed ready to run. The rider appeared to be an
Indian, and yet had something about him suggesting the