im. He believed himself a man stricken in
soul, unworthy, through doubt of God, to minister to the people who had
banished him. Perhaps a labor of Hercules, a mighty and perilous work of
rescue, the saving of this lost and imprisoned girl, would help him in
his trouble. She might be his salvation. Who could tell? Always as a boy
and as a man he had fared forth to find the treasure at the foot of the
rainbow.

II. THE SAGI

Next morning the Indian girl was gone and the tracks of her pony led
north. Shefford's first thought was to wonder if he would overtake her
on the trail; and this surprised him with the proof of how unconsciously
his resolve to go on had formed.

Presbrey made no further attempt to turn Shefford back. But he insisted
on replenishing the pack, and that Shefford take weapons. Finally
Shefford was persuaded to accept a revolver. The trader bade him good-by
and stood in the door while Shefford led his horse down the slope
toward the water-hole. Perhaps the trader believed he was watching the
departure of a man who would never return. He was still standing at the
door of the post when Shefford halted at the pool.

Upon the level floor of the valley lay thin patches of snow which
had fallen during the night. The air was biting cold, yet stimulated
Shefford while it stung him. His horse drank rather slowly and
disgustedly. Then Shefford mounted and reluctantly turned his back upon
the trading-post.

As he rode away from the pool he saw a large flock of sheep approaching.
They were very closely, even densely, packed, in a solid slow-moving
mass and coming with a precision almost like a march. This fact
surprised Shefford, for there was not an Indian in sight. Presently he
saw that a dog was leading the flock, and a little later he discovered
another dog in the rear of the sheep. They were splendid, long-haired
dogs, of a wild-looking shepherd breed. He halted his horse to watch the
procession pass by. The flock covered fully an acre of ground and the
sheep were black, white, and brown. They passed him, making a little
pattering roar on the hard-caked sand. The dogs were taking the sheep in
to water.

Shefford went on and was drawing close to the other side of the basin,
where the flat red level was broken by rising dunes and ridges, when he
espied a bunch of ponies. A shrill whistle told him that they had seen
him. They were wild, shaggy, with long manes and tails. They stopped,
threw up their