e only tried to creep farther under the
scrubby bushes. Rose began to think that maybe it was more afraid of her
than she was of it.

"Poor doggy!" she said, hobbling around the end of the hedge of scrubby
bushes.

There she saw its head and forepaws. And it was not until then that she
discovered what was the matter with the coyote. Its right fore paw was
fast in a steel trap. A chain hung from the trap. It had broken the
chain and hobbled away with the trap--no knowing how far it had come.

"The poor thing!" Rose said again, at once pitying the coyote more than
she was afraid of it.

Yet when it saw the little girl looking at him it clashed its great jaws
and grinned at her most wickedly. It was not a pleasant thing to look
at.

"But he is hurt, and 'fraid, I suppose," Rose murmured. "Why! he's just
as lame as I am. I guess his foot hurts him in that awful trap a good
deal more than my ankle hurts me. The poor thing!"

The coyote was evidently quite exhausted. It probably had come a good
way with that trap fastened to its paw. But it showed Rose all its
teeth, and they did look very sharp to the little girl.

"I would not want him to snap at me," thought Rose. "And if I went near
enough I guess he would snap. I'll keep away from the poor dog, for I
would not dare try to get the trap off his foot."

She moved away; but she kept the crouching coyote in sight. She did not
like to feel that it was following her without her seeing it do so. And
the coyote seemed to feel that it wanted to keep her in sight. For it
raised its head and watched her with unwinking eyes.

This incident had given Rose something to think about besides her own
lost state and her lame ankle. The latter was not paining as badly as
at first. Still, she did not feel that she could hobble far. And she was
not quite sure now in which direction Pinky, the pony, had run. She
really did not know which way to go.

"It is funny Russ didn't come after me," thought the little girl. "Maybe
those Indians got him. But, then, there was the white man. I thought he
was setting off dynamite. But there wasn't any explosion. I guess I ran
away too quick. But Russ might have followed me, I should think."

She could not quite bring herself to blame her difficulties on Russ,
however, for she very well knew that her own panic had brought her here.
Russ had been brave enough to stay. Russ was always brave. And then, she
had blindly ridden off the trail and come t