w bridle lashed him stingingly; the
moccasined heels dug without mercy into the tender part of his flanks.
He came lunging down over the first rim of the bluff; then since he
must, he gathered himself for the ordeal and came leaping down and down
and down, gaining momentum with every jump. He could not have stopped
then if he had tried--and Annie-Many-Ponies, still the incarnation of
eager pursuit, would not let him try.

At the big flat rock of which Jean had warned her, the pinto would have
swerved. But she yanked him into the straighter descent, down over the
bank. He leaped, and he fell and slid twice his own length, his nose
rooting the soil. Annie-Many-Ponies lurched, came hard against a boulder
and somehow flung herself into place again on the horse. She lifted
his head and called to him in short, harsh, Indian words. The pinto
scrambled to his knees, got to his feet and felt again the sting of the
rein-end in his flanks. Like a rabbit he came bounding down, down
where the way was steepest and most treacherous. And at every jump the
rein-end fell, first on one side and then along the other, as a skilled
canoeman shifts the paddle to force his slight craft forward in a
treacherous current.

Down the last slope he came thundering. On his back Annie-Many-Ponies
lashed him steadily, straining her eyes in the direction which Jean had
taken past the camera. She knew that they were watching her--she knew
also that the camera crank in Pete Lowry's hands was turning, turning,
recording every move of hers, every little changing expression. She
swept down upon them so close that Pete grabbed the tripod with one
hand, ready to lift it and dodge away from the coming collision. Still
leaning, still lashing and straining every nerve in pursuit, she dashed
past, pivoted the pinto upon his hind feet, darted back toward the
staring group and jumped off while he was yet running.

Now that she had done it; now that she had proven that she also had
nerve and much skill in riding, black loneliness settled upon her again.
She came slowly back, and as she came she heard them praise the ride she
had made. She heard them saying how frightened they had been when the
pinto fell, and she heard Wagalexa Conka call to her that she had made
a strong scene for him. She did not answer. She sat down upon a rock, a
little apart from them, and looking as remote as the Sandias Mountains,
miles away to the north, folded her blanket around her and sp