ever stood it?"

The Indian girl was resting near her father, and every little while
putting water on his face and hands. When she heard the voice of Pike
she sat up, and then started quietly to pick up dry yucca stalks and
bits of brushwood for a fire.

"Look at that, would you, Bub," commented Pike, "the minute she sees
you commence to open the cook kit she is rustling for firewood. That
little devil is made of whalebone for toughness. Why, even the burros
are played out, but she is fresh as a daisy after a half hour's
rest!"

Rhodes noted that the excitement by which she had been swayed to
confidence in the morning had apparently burned out on the trail, for
she spoke no more, only served silently as generations of her mothers
of the desert had done, and waited, crouched back of her father, while
the men ate the slender meal of _carne seco_, _atole_, and coffee.

Cap Pike suggested that she join them, but it was her adopted guardian
who protested.

"We won't change their ways of women," he decided. "I notice that when
white folks try to they are seldom understood. How do we know whether
that attitude is an humble effacement, or whether the rank of that
martyred ancester exalts her too greatly to allow equality with white
stragglers of the range?"

Cap Pike snorted disdain.

"You'll be making a Pocahontas of her if you keep on that 'noble
Injun' strain," he remarked.

"Far be it from me! Pocahontas was a gay little hanger-on of the
camps,--not like this silent owl! Her mind seems older than her years,
and just notice her care of him, will you? I reckon he'd have wandered
away and died but for her grip on him through the night."

Miguel sank into sleep almost at once after eating, and the girl waved
over him an alamo branch as a fan with one hand, and ate with the
other, while Rhodes looked over the scant commissary outfit, reckoning
mouths to feed and distance to supplies. The moon was at full, and
night travel would save the stock considerably. By the following noon
they could reach ranches either west or north. He was conscious of the
eyes of the girl ever on his face in mute question, and while Pike
bathed the backs of the animals, and led each to stand in the oozy
drainage of the meager well, she came close to Kit and spoke.

"You say it is a dream, senor, and you laugh, but the red gold of El
Alisal is no dream. He, my father has said it, and after that, I,
Tula, may show it to you. Even my mother d