o steeped in love, Annie-Many-Ponies stood up with her face to the
mountains and sorrow in her eyes, and chanted again the wailing, Omaha
mourning-song. And just behind her the little black dog, that had
followed close to her heels all the way, sat upon his haunches and
pointed his nose to the sky and howled.

For a long time she wailed. Then to the mountains that she loved she
made the sign of peace-and-farewell, and turned herself stoically to the
keeping of her oath. Her bundle that was so big and heavy she placed
in the saddle and fastened with the saddle-string and with the red sash
that had bound it across her chest and shoulders. Then, as her great
grandmother had plodded across the bleak plains of the Dakotas at her
master's behest, Annie-Many-Ponies took the bridle reins and led the
horse out of the ruin, and started upon her plodding, patient journey
to what lay beyond the mountains. Behind her the black horse walked with
drooping head, half asleep in the warm sunlight. At the heels of the
horse followed the little black dog.

CHAPTER IX. RIDERS IN THE BACKGROUND

Luck, as explained elsewhere, was sweating and swearing at the heat
in Bear Canon. The sun had crept around so that it shone full into a
certain bowlder-strewn defile, and up this sunbaked gash old Applehead
was toiling, leading the scrawniest burro which Luck had been able to
find in the country. The burro was packed with a prospector's outfit
startlingly real in its pathetic meagerness. Old Applehead was picking
his way among rocks so hot that he could hardly bear to lay his bare
hand upon them, tough as that hand was with years of exposure to heat
and cold alike. Beads of perspiration were standing on his face, which
was a deep, apoplectic crimson, and little trickles of sweat were
dropping off his lower jaw.

He was muttering as he climbed, but the camera fortunately failed to
record the language that he used. Now and then he turned and yanked
savagely at the lead rope; whereupon the burro would sit down upon its
haunches and allow Applehead to stretch its neck as far as bone and
tough hide and tougher sinew would permit Someone among the group
roosting in the shade across the defile and well out of camera range
would laugh, and Luck, standing on a ledge just behind and above the
camera, would shout directions or criticism of the "business."

"Come on back, Applehead," Luck yelled when the "prospectorp" had turned
a corner of rock and di