. Phases of the
history of the world flashed through her mind--Greek and Roman wars,
dark, mediaeval times, the crimes in the name of religion. On sea, on
land, everywhere--shooting, stabbing, cursing, clashing, fighting men!
Greed, power, oppression, fanaticism, love, hate, revenge, justice,
freedom--for these, men killed one another.

She lay there under the cedars, gazing up through the delicate lacelike
foliage at the blue sky, and she thought and wondered and did not care.

More rattling shots disturbed the noonday quiet. She heard a sliding of
weathered rock, a hoarse shout of warning, a yell of alarm, again the
clear, sharp crack of the rifle, and another cry that was a cry of
death. Then rifle reports pierced a dull volley of revolver shots.
Bullets whizzed over Jane's hiding-place; one struck a stone and whined
away in the air. After that, for a time, succeeded desultory shots; and
then they ceased under long, thundering fire from heavier guns.

Sooner or later, then, Jane heard the cracking of horses' hoofs on the
stones, and the sound came nearer and nearer. Silence intervened until
Lassiter's soft, jingling step assured her of his approach. When he
appeared he was covered with blood.

"All right, Jane," he said. "I come back. An' don't worry."

With water from a canteen he washed the blood from his face and hands.

"Jane, hurry now. Tear my scarf in two, en' tie up these places. That
hole through my hand is some inconvenient, worse 'n this at over my ear.
There--you're doin' fine! Not a bit nervous--no tremblin'. I reckon I
ain't done your courage justice. I'm glad you're brave jest now--you'll
need to be. Well, I was hid pretty good, enough to keep them from
shootin' me deep, but they was slingin' lead close all the time. I used
up all the rifle shells, an' en I went after them. Mebbe you heard. It
was then I got hit. Had to use up every shell in my own gun, an' they
did, too, as I seen. Rustlers an' Mormons, Jane! An' now I'm packin'
five bullet holes in my carcass, an' guns without shells. Hurry, now."

He unstrapped the saddle-bags from the burros, slipped the saddles and
let them lie, turned the burros loose, and, calling the dogs, led the
way through stones and cedars to an open where two horses stood.

"Jane, are you strong?" he asked.

"I think so. I'm not tired," Jane replied.

"I don't mean that way. Can you bear up?"

"I think I can bear anything."

"I reckon you look a little cold an