ts of the light, it detached itself from
the darkness, taking the form of a mounted man followed by a pack
animal. The projected rays of red played along the barrel of a rifle
held across the saddle, and struck answering gleams from touches of
metal on the bridle. So soundless was the approach that Susan heard
nothing till a lupine stalk snapped under the horse's hoof. She sat up
and turned. Over the horse's ears she saw a long swarthy face framed
in hanging hair, and the glint of narrowed eyes looking curiously at
her. She leaped to her feet with a smothered cry, Indians in her mind.
The man raised a quick hand, and said:

"It's all right. It's a white man."

He slid off his horse and came toward her. He was so like an Indian,
clad in a fringed hunting shirt and leggings, his movements lithe and
light, his step noiseless, his skin copper dark, that she stood alert,
ready to raise a warning cry. Then coming into the brighter light she
saw he was white, with long red hair hanging from the edge of his cap,
and light-colored eyes that searched her face with a hard look. He was
as wild a figure as any the plains had yet given up, and she drew away
looking fearfully at him.

"Don't be afraid," he said in a deep voice. "I'm the same kind as you."

"Who are you?" she faltered.

"A mountain man. I'll camp with you." Then glancing about, "Where are
the rest of them?"

"They're round somewhere," she answered. "We have sickness here."

"Cholera?" quickly.

She shook her head.

Without more words he went back and picketed his horses, and took the
pack and saddle off. She could see his long, pale-colored figure
moving from darkness into light, and the animals drooping with
stretched necks as their bonds were loosened. When he came back to the
fire he dropped a blanket and laid his gun close to it, then threw
himself down. The rattle of the powder horn and bullet mold he wore
hanging from his shoulder came with the movement. He slipped the strap
off and threw it beside the gun. Then drew one foot up and unfastened
a large spur attached to his moccasined heel. He wore a ragged
otter-skin cap, the animal's tail hanging down on one side. This he
took off too, showing his thick red hair, damp and matted from the heat
of the fur. With a knotted hand he pushed back the locks pressed down
on his forehead. The skin there was untanned and lay like a white band
above the darkness of his face, thin, edged with a