al belles of America, a little foot is the rule--a
large one the exception. I had tracked many a pair much smaller than
those; but never had I seen the footprints of an Indian with the _toes
turned out_; and such was the peculiarity of those now before me. This
observation--which I did not make till after some time had elapsed--
filled me with astonishment, and something more. It was suggestive of
many and varied emotions. The girl or woman who had made these tracks
could never have been strapped to an Indian cradle. She must be white!

CHAPTER SIXTY NINE.

A RIVAL STALKER.

It was not by any conjuncture that I arrived at this conclusion. I was
quite confident that the footsteps were not those of a _squaw_--all
inexplicable as was the contrary hypothesis. I observed that they were
very recent--of less than an hour's age. As I rose from regarding them,
a new sign appeared on the same bed of sand--the footmarks of a wolf!
No--I was deceived by resemblance. On nearer examination, they were not
wolf-tracks I saw; but those of a dog, and evidently a large one. These
were also fresh like the woman's tracks--made doubtless at the same
time. The dog had accompanied the woman, or rather had been following
her: since a little further on, where both were in the same line, his
track was uppermost.

There were two special reasons why this sign should astonish me: a
_white_ woman in such a place, and _wearing moccasins_! But for the
style of the _chaussure_, I might have fancied that the tracks were
those of some one who had strayed from the caravan. I might have
connected them with _her_--ever uppermost in my thoughts. But--no.
Small though they were, they were yet too large for those _mignon_ feet,
well-remembered. After all, I _might_ be mistaken? Some dusky maiden
might have passed that way, followed by her dog? This hypothesis would
have removed all mystery, had I yielded to it. I could not: it was
contrary to my tracking experience. Even the dog was not Indian: the
prints of his paws proclaimed him of a different race.

My perplexity did not hinder me from quenching my thirst. The pain was
paramount; and after assuaging it, I turned my eyes once more towards
the cliff. The wild ram had not stirred from his place. The noble
animal was still standing upon the summit of the rock. He had not even
changed his attitude. In all likelihood, he was acting as the sentinel
of a flock, that was browsing beh