uniting into anything
like a trail. She wondered, if she could bring herself to drink the
blood of a jack-rabbit, and if it would quench her thirst. But the
thought was repellent, and, besides, she was not a good shot with a
revolver. Nor did the cactus offer any relief, since it was only just
coming into bloom, and as yet bore no fruit.

The sun had grown red and huge when at last in the hard-baked dirt she
discovered fresh hoof-prints. These seemed to lead along the line in
which she was traveling, and she followed them gladly, encouraged when
they were joined by others, for, although they meandered aimlessly,
they formed something more like a trail than anything she had as yet
seen. Guessing at their general direction, she hurried on, coming
finally into a region where the soil was shallow and scarcely served to
cover the rocky substratum. A low bluff rose on her left, and along its
crest scattered Spanish daggers were raggedly silhouetted against the
sky.

She was in a well-defined path now; she tried to run, but her legs were
heavy; she stumbled a great deal, and her breath made strange,
distressing sounds as it issued from her open lips. Hounding the steep
shoulder of the ridge, she hastened down a declivity into a knot of
scrub-oaks and ebony-trees, then halted, staring ahead of her.

The nakedness of the stony arroyo, the gnarled and stunted thickets,
were softened by the magic of twilight; the air had suddenly cooled;
overhead the empty, flawless sky was deepening swiftly from blue to
purple; the chaparral had awakened and echoed now to the sounds of
life. Nestling in a shallow, flinty bowl was a pool of water, and on
its brink a little fire was burning.

It was a tiny fire, overhung with a blackened pot; the odor of
greasewood and mesquite smoke was sharp. A man, rising swiftly to his
feet at the first sound, was staring at the new-comer; he was as alert
as any wild thing. But the woman scarcely heeded him. She staggered
directly toward the pond, seeing nothing after the first glance except
the water. She would have flung herself full length upon the edge, but
the man stepped forward and stayed her, then placed a tin cup in her
hand. She mumbled something in answer to his greeting and the hoarse,
raven-like croak in her voice startled her; then she drank, with
trembling eagerness, drenching the front of her dress. The water was
warm, but it was clean and delicious.

"Easy now. Take your time," said the m