l you see Silvermane cover ground! He can
look over his shoulder at you and beat any horse in this country. The
Navajos have given up catching him as a bad job. Why--here! Jack! quick,
get out your rifle--coyotes!"

Naab pulled on the reins, and pointed to one side. Hare discerned three
grayish sharp-nosed beasts sneaking off in the sage, and he reached back
for the rifle. Naab whistled, stopping the coyotes; then Hare shot. The
ball cut a wisp of dust above and beyond them. They loped away into the
sage.

"How that rifle spangs!" exclaimed Naab. "It's good to hear it. Jack,
you shot high. That's the trouble with men who have never shot at game.
They can't hold low enough. Aim low, lower than you want. Ha! There's
another--this side--hold ahead of him and low, quick!--too high again."

It was in this way that August and Hare fell far behind the other
wagons. The nearer Naab got to his home the more genial he became. When
he was not answering Hare's queries he was giving information of his
own accord, telling about the cattle and the range, the mustangs, the
Navajos, and the desert. Naab liked to talk; he had said he had not the
gift of revelation, but he certainly had the gift of tongues.

The sun was in the west when they began to climb a ridge. A short
ascent, and a long turn to the right brought them under a bold spur of
the mountain which shut out the northwest. Camp had been pitched in a
grove of trees of a species new to Hare. From under a bowlder gushed the
sparkling spring, a grateful sight and sound to desert travellers. In a
niche of the rock hung a silver cup.

"Jack, no man knows how old this cup is, or anything about it. We named
the spring after it--Silver Cup. The strange thing is that the cup has
never been lost nor stolen. But--could any desert man, or outlaw, or
Indian, take it away, after drinking here?"

The cup was nicked and battered, bright on the sides, moss-green on the
bottom. When Hare drank from it he understood.

That evening there was rude merriment around the campfire. Snap Naab
buzzed on his jews'-harp and sang. He stirred some of the younger
braves to dancing, and they stamped and swung their arms, singing,
"hoya-heeya-howya," as they moved in and out of the firelight.

Several of the braves showed great interest in Snap's jews'-harp and
repeatedly asked him for it. Finally the Mormon grudgingly lent it to
a curious Indian, who in trying to play it went through such awkward
moti