She began the climb, taking advantage of every bit of roughness, of
every projection in the almost sheer wall. A knob of feldspar, a stunted
shrub growing from a crevice, a fault in the rock structure, offered
here and there toe-or hand-holds. She struggled upward, stopped more
than once by the smooth surface against which her soft warm body was
pressing. On such occasions she would lower herself again, turn to the
right or the left, and work toward another objective.

Ramona knew that the least slip, the slightest failure of any one of her
muscles, would send her plunging down to the bottom of the crevasse. The
worst of it was that she could not put any dependence upon her injured
leg. It might see her through or it might not.

It was within a few feet of the top, just below the arrowweed bush, that
she came to an _impasse_. The cold wall offered no hand-hold by which
she could gain the few inches that would bring her within reach of the
bunched roots. She undid her belt, threw one end of it over the body of
the bush, and worked it carefully down until she could buckle it. By
means of this she went up hand over hand till she could reach the
arrowweed. Her knee found support in the loop of the belt, and in
another moment she had zigzagged herself inch by inch over the edge to
the flat surface above.

No sign of the Apaches was to be seen. 'Mona recovered her belt and
began to move up the rock spur toward the summit of the hill. A sound
stopped her in her tracks. It was the beating of a tom-tom.

She knew the Indians must be camped by the lake. They were probably
having a feast and dances. In any case she could not strike direct for
home. She must keep on this side of the hill, make a wide circuit, and
come in from the west.

Already her leg was paining her a good deal. Since five o'clock in the
morning she had eaten nothing. Her throat was parched with thirst. But
these were details that must be forgotten. She had to tramp more than
twenty miles through the desert regardless of her physical condition.

The girl went at it doggedly. She limped along, getting wearier every
mile of the way. But it was not until she discovered that she was lost
to all sense of direction that she broke down and wept. The land here
was creased by swales, one so like another that in the darkness she had
gone astray and did not know north from south.

After tears came renewed resolution. She tried to guide herself by the
stars, but th