he rear. Wolf circled them all,
keeping the flanks close in, heading the lambs that strayed, and, ever
vigilant, made the drive orderly and rapid.

The trail to the upper range was wide and easy of ascent, the first of
it winding under crags, the latter part climbing long slopes. It forked
before the summit, where dark pine trees showed against the sky, one
fork ascending, the other, which Piute took, beginning to go down. It
admitted of no extended view, being shut in for the most part on the
left, but there were times when Hare could see a curving stream of sheep
on half a mile of descending trail. Once started down the flock could
not be stopped, that was as plain as Piute's hard task. There were times
when Hare could have tossed a pebble on the Indian just below him, yet
there were more than three thousand sheep, strung out in line between
them. Clouds of dust rolled up, sheets of gravel and shale rattled down
the inclines, the clatter, clatter, clatter of little hoofs, the steady
baa-baa-baa filled the air. Save for the crowding of lambs off the
trail, and a jamming of sheep in the corners, the drive went on without
mishap. Hare was glad to see the lambs scramble back bleating for their
mothers, and to note that, though peril threatened at every steep turn,
the steady down-flow always made space for the sheep behind. He was
glad, too, when through a wide break ahead his eye followed the face of
a vast cliff down to the red ground below, and he knew the flock would
soon be safe on the level.

A blast as from a furnace smote Hare from this open break in the wall.
The air was dust-laden, and carried besides the smell of dust and the
warm breath of desert growths, a dank odor that was unpleasant.

The sheep massed in a flock on the level, and the drivers spread to
their places. The route lay under projecting red cliffs, between the
base and enormous sections of wall that had broken off and fallen
far out. There was no weathering slope; the wind had carried away the
smaller stones and particles, and had cut the huge pieces of pinnacle
and tower into hollowed forms. This zone of rim merged into another of
strange contrast, the sloping red stream of sand which flowed from the
wall of the canyon.

Piute swung the flock up to the left into an amphitheatre, and there
halted. The sheep formed a densely packed mass in the curve of the wall.
Dave Naab galloped back toward August and Hare, and before he reached
them shouted