grassy bank, and finding the tracks of the
horses, he followed them. They led along the wall. As soon as he had
assured himself that Nas Ta Bega had gone down the canyon he abandoned
the tracks and pushed ahead swiftly. He heard the soft rush of running
water. In the center of the canyon wound heavy lines of bright-green
foliage, bordering a rocky brook. The air was close, warm, and sweet
with perfume of flowers. The walls were low and shelving, and soon lost
that rounded appearance peculiar to the wind-worn slopes above. Shefford
came to where the horses had plowed down a gravelly bank into the clear,
swift water of the brook. The little pools of water were still muddy.
Shefford drank, finding the water cold and sweet, without the bitter
bite of alkali. He crossed and pushed on, running on the grassy levels.
Flowers were everywhere, but he did not notice them particularly. The
canyon made many leisurely turns, and its size, if it enlarged at all,
was not perceptible to him yet. The rims above him were perhaps fifty
feet high. Cottonwood-trees began to appear along the brook, and
blossoming buck-brush in the corners of wall.

He had traveled perhaps a mile when Nas Ta Bega, appearing to come out
of the thicket, confronted him.

"Hello!" called Shefford. "Where're Fay--and the others?"

The Indian made a gesture that signified the rest of the party were
beyond a little way. Shefford took Nas Ta Bega's arm, and as they
walked, and he panted for breath, he told what had happened back on the
slopes.

The Indian made one of his singular speaking sweeps of hand, and he
scrutinized Shefford's face, but he received the news in silence. They
turned a corner of wall, crossed a wide, shallow, boulder-strewn place
in the brook, and mounted the bank to a thicket. Beyond this, from a
clump of cottonwoods, Lassiter strode out with a gun in each hand. He
had been hiding.

"Shore I'm glad to see you," he said, and the eyes that piercingly fixed
on Shefford were now as keen as formerly they had been mild.

"Gone! Lassiter--they're gone," broke out Shefford. "Where's Fay--and
Jane?"

Lassiter called, and presently the women came out of the thick brake,
and Fay bounded forward with her swift stride, while Jane followed with
eager step and anxious face. Then they all surrounded Shefford.

"It was Shadd--and his gang," panted Shefford. "Eight in all. Three or
four Piutes--the others outlaws. They lost track of us. Went below the
pl