ssed doggedly toward Pend d' Oreille. I daresay he thought I was
attending to that part of it, registering a complaint for both of us.
And if I didn't rise to the occasion it was the fault of my limited
vocabulary. I kept a stiff backbone for a while, but presently a futile
rage against circumstances bubbled up and boiled over. I climbed each
succeeding canyon wall oozing perspiration and profanity, and when the
top was reached took fresh breath and damned the Northwest by sections
in a large, fluent manner of speech. In time, however, the foolishness
of this came home to me, and I subsided into spasmodic growling, saving
my wind for the miles yet to cover.

Well past noon we reached the summit of a hog-backed ridge that
overlooked the tortuous windings of Lost River, a waterless channel
between banks that were void of vegetation. The crest of the divide was
studded with great outcroppings of sand-stone, and in the shadow of one
giant rock we laid down to rest before we descended into that barren
valley where the heat-waves shimmered like crepon silk. The cool bit of
earth was good to stretch upon; for nearly an hour we laid there, beyond
reach of the glowing sun; it was worth almost the treasure we had lost
to ease our aching feet. Then reluctantly we started again.

As we stepped from behind the rock three riders came into sight on the
opposite slope of Lost River. A moment's scrutiny assured us that they
were Mounted Policemen. From habit our eyes swept the surrounding
country, and in a moment we observed other groups of mounted men, an
equal distance apart and traveling in the same general direction--like a
round-up sweeping over a cattle-range.

"They're out for somebody. I shouldn't be surprised if they have
smelled out our friends," said MacRae. "And seeing this bunch is heading
right toward us, we might as well take it easy here till they come up."

Returning to the cool shade, we waited till they crossed that miniature
desert. I looked once or twice, and hoped we would not have to walk over
it; I'd seen the Mohave and the Staked Plains, and I knew it was
sizzling hot in that ancient river-bed--it _is_ hot, and dry, when the
heat-waves play tricks with objects seen from afar. Those three riders
moved in a transparent haze, distorted, grotesque figures; now giants,
broad, uncouth shapes; now pigmies astride of horses that progressed
slowly on long, stiltlike legs, again losing form and waving like tall,
slende