esently it climbed
to a higher bench. Here were brush and grass and huge patches of sage,
so pungent that it stung Slone's nostrils. Then he went down again,
this time to come to a clear brook lined by willows. Here the horses
drank long and Slone refreshed himself. The sun had grown hot. There
was fragrance of flowers he could not see and a low murmur of a
waterfall that was likewise invisible. For most of the time his view
was shut off, but occasionally he reached a point where through some
break he saw towers gleaming red in the sun. A strange place, a place
of silence, and smoky veils in the distance. Time passed swiftly.
Toward the waning of the afternoon he began to climb to what appeared
to be a saddle of land, connecting the canyon wall on the left with a
great plateau, gold-rimmed and pine-fringed, rising more and more in
his way as he advanced. At sunset Slone was more shut in than for
several hours. He could tell the time was sunset by the golden light on
the cliff wall again overhanging him. The slope was gradual up to this
pass to the saddle, and upon coming to a spring, and the first
pine-trees, he decided to halt for a camp. The mustang was almost
exhausted.

Thereupon he hobbled the horses in the luxuriant grass round the
spring, and then unrolled his pack. Once as dusk came stealing down,
while he was eating his meal, Nagger whistled in fright. Slone saw a
gray, pantherish form gliding away into the shadows. He took a quick
shot at it, but missed.

"It's a lion country, all right," he said. And then he set about
building a big fire on the other side of the grassy plot, so to have
the horses between fires. He cut all the venison into thin strips, and
spent an hour roasting them. Then he lay down to rest, and he said:
"Wonder where Wildfire is to-night? Am I closer to him? Where's he
headin' for?"

The night was warm and still. It was black near the huge cliff, and
overhead velvety blue, with stars of white fire. It seemed to him that
he had become more thoughtful and observing of the aspects of his wild
environment, and he felt a welcome consciousness of loneliness. Then
sleep came to him and the night seemed short. In the gray dawn he arose
refreshed.

The horses were restive. Nagger snorted a welcome. Evidently they had
passed an uneasy night. Slone found lion tracks at the spring and in
sandy places. Presently he was on his way up to the notch between the
great wall and the plateau. A growth of