d agility than
Shefford had supposed him capable of. From the ledge they turned their
attention to the narrow crack with its ladder of sticks. Fay had already
ascended and now hung over the rim, her white face and golden hair
framed vividly in the narrow stream of blue sky above.

"Mother Jane! Uncle Jim! You are so slow," she called.

"Wal, Fay, we haven't been second cousins to a canyon squirrel all these
years," replied Lassiter.

This upper half of the climb bid fair to be as difficult for Jane, if
not so painful, as the lower. It was necessary for the Indian to go
up and drop the rope, which was looped around her, and then, with him
pulling from above and Shefford assisting Jane as she climbed, she was
finally gotten up without mishap. When Lassiter reached the level they
rested a little while and then faced the great slide of jumbled rocks.
Fay led the way, light, supple, tireless, and Shefford never ceased
looking at her. At last they surmounted the long slope and, winding
along the rim, reached the point where Fay had led out of the cedars.

Nas Ta Bega, then, was the one to whom Shefford looked for every
decision or action of the immediate future. The Indian said he had seen
a pool of water in a rocky hole, that the day was spent, that here was a
little grass for the mustangs, and it would be well to camp right there.
So while Nas Ta Bega attended to the mustangs Shefford set about such
preparations for camp and supper as their light pack afforded. The
question of beds was easily answered, for the mats of soft needles under
pinyon and cedar would be comfortable places to sleep.

When Shefford felt free again the sun was setting. Lassiter and Jane
were walking under the trees. The Indian had returned to camp. But Fay
was missing. Shefford imagined he knew where to find her, and upon
going to the edge of the forest he saw her sitting on the promontory.
He approached her, drawn in spite of a feeling that perhaps he ought to
stay away.

"Fay, would you rather be alone?" he asked.

His voice startled her.

"I want you," she replied, and held out her hand.

Taking it in his own, he sat beside her.

The red sun was at their backs. Surprise Valley lay hazy, dusky, shadowy
beneath them. The opposite wall seemed fired by crimson flame, save far
down at its base, which the sun no longer touched. And the dark line
of red slowly rose, encroaching upon the bright crimson. Changing,
transparent, yet dusky veils se