trail tedious, and the weight on his back heavier than ever, he felt
less fretful and more contented than at any time since leaving the
little ranch beside the river--possibly because of the thrill of his
double encounter.

Ahead and on either hand the desert soon began to break and lift. As
they went on the dunes grew to be hills and heights, growing, looming,
closing in upon them. Now and again a clump of trees or a shoulder of
rock or a stretch of foliage stepped out in relief against the brown of
the landscape, revealing more than once ideal grazing-land. Also, as
they penetrated deeper into this broken country, the sky overhead showed
change. From a spotless blue it revealed tiny splotches of gray-white
cloud scudding before upper currents. With the passing hours these
clouds became heavy, sullen, and threatening, until the sun, dipping
into the west, sinking in a kind of hazy moisture, left the heavens
completely overcast, cold and bleak and forbidding--a dense mass of
cloud-banks down to the tip of ridge and range. And now came dusk, short
and chill, and with it the slow ascent of a long grade, leading them up
to a ridge, low and ragged, trailing away interminably to north and
south in the gloom. Complete darkness found them deep among high hills.

The men drew rein beside a little stream. They watered the horses, and
then, throwing off saddle-bags and gathering brush, they built a tiny
fire. Glover appeared nervous and worried, and when the meal was ended
turned to mount and be off again. But Johnson called him back. Johnson
was seated on the ground, close beside Jim, and Glover sat down with
them. Thus they waited, silent, reflective, watching, while about them
pressed the close night, seeming by its touch to impart to them
something of its solemnity. Off at one side the horses, bridled and
saddled, waited also--watching and waiting, motionless, and over them
all brooded a stillness that was mighty and portentous. Thus they waited
for two hours, wrapped in profound silence, and then Johnson, after
scanning the sky, rose and made for the horses. The others quickly
followed him. Their trail led into a narrow defile. Up this winding way
they rode, with Johnson in the lead, up and ever up, until they burst
through a clump of brush at the top. There they drew rein and again
waited, silent, reflective, watching. Presently Glover, with eyes turned
eastward, uttered a grunt which meant relief.

The clouds in the ea