y upon the shelf then stopped. She hardly dared
to go on. What if the opening, large enough to admit the light, were
too small for her to pass through? What if the light had been only a
lure to torture her? What if she must return into the darkness with
that thing unknown, the thing with the blazing eyes!

She crept on with her eyes shut. A stronger glow of light upon the
closed lids told her she had reached the end of the shelving. The next
moment would tell her if she had reached freedom or renewed captivity.
She looked up.

Three of Red Snake's young warriors had gained most of the plaudits of
the village during the afternoon of the hunt. They rode together and
not only did they bring in many foxes and coyotes but much news of the
white people. They had met armed men throughout all the mountain
country, riding up and down the river. The armed men had greeted them
fairly and had asked them for information of other white men who had
stolen a girl and carried her away. The white men were thus fighting
among themselves. It was a propitious time for the coining of the new
Queen.

These three young men, about five o'clock in the afternoon, had just
started the drive of a coyote towards the level country when the quarry
doubled suddenly and turned into the hills.

With shouts and shots, the Indians pursued it, but their horses were no
match for it on the devious wooded paths, and grunting their disgust
they saw it dive into a burrow in a rocky hollow of the cliff.

They dismounted and stood about the mouth of the burrow grumbling and
"cursing their luck" in an ancient tongue. At last two of them mounted
and started to ride away, and their companion followed, slowly, leading
his horse.

A sound made him turn his head. With a cry of mingled fear and joy, of
awe and triumph, he threw himself prostrate before the mouth of the
burrow.

The other Indians dashed back. They literally fell from their horses
to the feet of the wonderful being who had risen from the heart of the
earth--the promised goddess who would lead them against the
oppressors. In the poor, disheveled person of Pauline, coming from her
prison cave, they saw their great White Queen.

CHAPTER XV

THE DEATH STONE

As the thrilled and frightened Indian lay prostrate at her feet, he
might well have believed her to be some creature from another world.

Her face was very pale and round it fell in tumultuous glory the
cascades of her