it was in truth
killing him; when he crawled on his hands and knees up slight slopes;
when the stars danced and he frowned at them stupidly, seeking the
North Star, seeking to know which way led to Kish Taka. When the first
faint glint of dawn sweetened the air he was lying on his back; he
felt, rather than saw, that a new day was blossoming. He collected his
wandering faculties, fought with the lassitude which stole upon him
whenever his senses were not on the alert and sat up. And he would
have cried out aloud at what he saw were not his throat and mouth and
lips so dry that he was beyond calling out. For yonder, a blurred
moving shape came toward him. The shape was a man's, and he knew that
it was Kish Taka.

Somehow he got to his feet, somehow he dragged his revolver out of its
holster, somehow he took a dozen tottering steps forward. He saw that
Kish Taka had seen him and had stopped; that the Indian carried his
canteen; that he was moving again. Howard lifted his gun, holding it
in both hands. He was afraid that even now his quarry would escape
him, that Kish Taka would run and that he could not follow. His
fingers found the trigger and pressed it as he sought to hold the
wavering muzzle steady. There was a loud report that seemed to tear
his brain to broken shreds, his arms dropped lax at his sides, the
revolver fell, its muzzle burying itself in the sand. His knees sagged
and he went down, settling slowly. As he fell he saw that Kish Taka
was running--but not away from him. Running like a deer was Kish Taka,
running straight to the fallen man.

For the first time in his life, Howard fainted, The pink dawn went
black in his eyes, his brain reeled, the booming as of a distant surf
filled his ears and then unconsciousness engulfed him. When he, knew
anything at all it was that he was sitting up, that two thin brown arms
were about his body, that water was trickling down his throat.

Chapter XIV

The Hate of the Hidden People

When Alan Howard fully understood, he felt his face go red with shame.
There was in his soul something akin to timidity as he put his hand
forth for the hand of Kish Taka. And when the Indian nodded gravely
and gave his own hand, the white man's fingers locked about it hard.
Still East was East and West was West, and again had two strong men met
from the ends of earth.

'I have horses and cows and houses and corn,' said Howard, speaking
slowly and simply that the