opening
between the black cliffs.

"Sagi," replied the Indian.

That did not mean anything to Shefford, and he asked if the Sagi was the
pass, but the Indian shook his head.

"Wife?" asked Shefford, pointing to the girl.

The Indian shook his head again. "_Bi-la_," he said.

"What you mean?" asked Shefford. "What _bi-la_?"

"Sister," replied the Indian. He spoke the word reluctantly, as if the
white man's language did not please him, but the clearness and correct
pronunciation surprised Shefford.

"What name--what call her?" he went on.

"Glen Naspa."

"What your name?" inquired Shefford, indicating the Indian.

"Nas Ta Bega," answered the Indian.

"Navajo?"

The Indian bowed with what seemed pride and stately dignity.

"My name John Shefford. Come far way back toward rising sun. Come stay
here long."

Nas Ta Bega's dark eyes were fixed steadily upon Shefford. He reflected
that he could not remember having felt so penetrating a gaze. But
neither the Indian's eyes nor face gave any clue to his thoughts.

"Navajo no savvy Jesus Christ," said the Indian, and his voice rolled
out low and deep.

Shefford felt both amaze and pain. The Indian had taken him for a
missionary.

"No!... Me no missionary," cried Shefford, and he flung up a
passionately repudiating hand.

A singular flash shot from the Indian's dark eyes. It struck Shefford
even at this stinging moment when the past came back.

"Trade--buy wool--blanket?" queried Nas Ta Bega.

"No," replied Shefford. "Me want ride--walk far." He waved his hand to
indicate a wide sweep of territory. "Me sick."

Nas Ta Bega laid a significant finger upon his lungs.

"No," replied Shefford. "Me strong. Sick here." And with motions of his
hands he tried to show that his was a trouble of the heart.

Shefford received instant impression of this Indian's intelligent
comprehension, but he could not tell just what had given him the
feeling. Nas Ta Bega rose then and walked away into the shadow. Shefford
heard him working around the dead cedar-tree, where he had probably gone
to get fire-wood. Then Shefford heard a splintering crash, which was
followed by a crunching, bumping sound. Presently he was astounded to
see the Indian enter the lighted circle dragging the whole cedar-tree,
trunk first. Shefford would have doubted the ability of two men to drag
that tree, and here came Nas Ta Bega, managing it easily. He laid the
trunk on the fire, and then proceeded to