The Call of the Canyon Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  Two warm sunny days in early May inclined Mr. Hutter to the opinion thatpleasant spring weather was at hand and that it would be a propitioustime to climb up on the desert to look after his sheep interests. Glenn,of course, would accompany him.

  "Carley and I will go too," asserted Flo.

  "Reckon that'll be good," said Hutter, with approving nod.

  His wife also agreed that it would be fine for Carley to see thebeautiful desert country round Sunset Peak. But Glenn looked dubious.

  "Carley, it'll be rather hard," he said. "You're soft, and riding andlying out will stove you up. You ought to break in gradually."

  "I rode ten miles today," rejoined Carley. "And didn't mind it--much."This was a little deviation from stern veracity.

  "Shore Carley's well and strong," protested Flo. "She'll get sore, butthat won't kill her."

  Glenn eyed Flo with rather penetrating glance. "I might drive Carleyround about in the car," he said.

  "But you can't drive over those lava flats, or go round, either. We'dhave to send horses in some cases miles to meet you. It's horseback ifyou go at all."

  "Shore we'll go horseback," spoke up Flo. "Carley has got it all overthat Spencer girl who was here last summer."

  "I think so, too. I am sure I hope so. Because you remember what theride to Long Valley did to Miss Spencer," rejoined Glenn.

  "What?" inquired Carley.

  "Bad cold, peeled nose, skinned shin, saddle sores. She was in bed twodays. She didn't show much pep the rest of her stay here, and she nevergot on another horse."

  "Oh, is that all, Glenn?" returned Carley, in feigned surprise. "Why,I imagined from your tone that Miss Spencer's ride must have occasionedher discomfort.... See here, Glenn. I may be a tenderfoot, but I'm nomollycoddle."

  "My dear, I surrender," replied Glenn, with a laugh. "Really, I'mdelighted. But if anything happens--don't you blame me. I'm quite surethat a long horseback ride, in spring, on the desert, will show you agood many things about yourself."

  That was how Carley came to find herself, the afternoon of the next day,astride a self-willed and unmanageable little mustang, riding in therear of her friends, on the way through a cedar forest toward a placecalled Deep Lake.

  Carley had not been able yet, during the several hours of their journey,to take any pleasure in the scenery or in her mount. For in the firstplace there was nothing to see but scrubby little gnarled cedars anddrab-looking rocks; and in the second this Indian pony she rode haddiscovered she was not an adept horsewoman and had proceeded to takeadvantage of the fact. It did not help Carley's predicament to rememberthat Glenn had decidedly advised her against riding this particularmustang. To be sure, Flo had approved of Carley's choice, and Mr.Hutter, with a hearty laugh, had fallen in line: "Shore. Let her rideone of the broncs, if she wants." So this animal she bestrode musthave been a bronc, for it did not take him long to elicit from Carley amuttered, "I don't know what bronc means, but it sounds like this ponyacts."

  Carley had inquired the animal's name from the young herder who hadsaddled him for her.

  "Wal, I reckon he ain't got much of a name," replied the lad, witha grin, as he scratched his head. "For us boys always called himSpillbeans."

  "Humph! What a beautiful cognomen!" ejaculated Carley, "But according toShakespeare any name will serve. I'll ride him or--or--"

  So far there had not really been any necessity for the completion ofthat sentence. But five miles of riding up into the cedar forest hadconvinced Carley that she might not have much farther to go. Spillbeanshad ambled along well enough until he reached level ground where a longbleached grass waved in the wind. Here he manifested hunger, then acontrary nature, next insubordination, and finally direct hostility.Carley had urged, pulled, and commanded in vain. Then when she gaveSpillbeans a kick in the flank he jumped stiff legged, propelling her upout of the saddle, and while she was descending he made the queer jumpagain, coming up to meet her. The jolt she got seemed to dislocate everybone in her body. Likewise it hurt. Moreover, along with her idea ofwhat a spectacle she must have presented, it quickly decided Carley thatSpillbeans was a horse that was not to be opposed. Whenever he wanted amouthful of grass he stopped to get it. Therefore Carley was alwaysin the rear, a fact which in itself did not displease her. Despitehis contrariness, however, Spillbeans had apparently no intention ofallowing the other horses to get completely out of sight.

  Several times Flo waited for Carley to catch up. "He's loafing on you,Carley. You ought to have on a spur. Break off a switch and beat himsome." Then she whipped the mustang across the flank with her bridlerein, which punishment caused Spillbeans meekly to trot on withalacrity. Carley had a positive belief that he would not do it for her.And after Flo's repeated efforts, assisted by chastisement from Glenn,had kept Spillbeans in a trot for a couple of miles Carley began todiscover that the trotting of a horse was the most uncomfortable motionpossible to imagine. It grew worse. It became painful. It gradually gotunendurable. But pride made Carley endure it until suddenly she thoughtshe had been stabbed in the side. This strange piercing pain mustbe what Glenn had called a "stitch" in the side, something common tonovices on horseback. Carley could have screamed. She pulled the mustangto a walk and sagged in her saddle until the pain subsided. What ablessed relief! Carley had keen sense of the difference between ridingin Central Park and in Arizona. She regretted her choice of horses.Spillbeans was attractive to look at, but the pleasure of riding himwas a delusion. Flo had said his gait resembled the motion of a rockingchair. This Western girl, according to Charley, the sheep herder, wasnot above playing Arizona jokes. Be that as it might, Spillbeans nowmanifested a desire to remain with the other horses, and he broke out ofa walk into a trot. Carley could not keep him from trotting. Hence herstate soon wore into acute distress.

  Her left ankle seemed broken. The stirrup was heavy, and as soon as shewas tired she could no longer keep its weight from drawing her foot in.The inside of her right knee was as sore as a boil. Besides, she hadother pains, just as severe, and she stood momentarily in mortal dreadof that terrible stitch in her side. If it returned she knew she wouldfall off. But, fortunately, just when she was growing weak and dizzy,the horses ahead slowed to a walk on a descent. The road wound down intoa wide deep canyon. Carley had a respite from her severest pains. Neverbefore had she known what it meant to be so grateful for relief fromanything.

  The afternoon grew far advanced and the sunset was hazily shrouded ingray. Hutter did not like the looks of those clouds. "Reckon we're infor weather," he said. Carley did not care what happened. Weather oranything else that might make it possible to get off her horse! Glennrode beside her, inquiring solicitously as to her pleasure. "Ride ofmy life!" she lied heroically. And it helped some to see that she bothfooled and pleased him.

  Beyond the canyon the cedared desert heaved higher and changed itsaspect. The trees grew larger, bushier, greener, and closer together,with patches of bleached grass between, and russet-lichened rockseverywhere. Small cactus plants bristled sparsely in open places;and here and there bright red flowers--Indian paintbrush, Flo calledthem--added a touch of color to the gray. Glenn pointed to where darkbanks of cloud had massed around the mountain peaks. The scene to thewest was somber and compelling.

  At last the men and the pack-horses ahead came to a halt in a levelgreen forestland with no high trees. Far ahead a chain of soft grayround hills led up to the dark heaved mass of mountains. Carley saw thegleam of water through the trees. Probably her mustang saw or scentedit, because he started to trot. Carley had reached a limit of strength,endurance, and patience. She hauled him up short. When Spillbeansevinced a stubborn intention to go on Carley gave him a kick. Then ithappened.

  She felt the reins jerked out of her hands and the saddle propel herupward. When she descended it was to meet that before-experienced jolt.

  "Look!" cried Flo. "That bronc is going to pitch."

  "Hold on, Carley!" yelled Glenn.

  De
sperately Carley essayed to do just that. But Spillbeans jolted herout of the saddle. She came down on his rump and began to slide back anddown. Frightened and furious, Carley tried to hang to the saddle withher hands and to squeeze the mustang with her knees. But another joltbroke her hold, and then, helpless and bewildered, with her heart inher throat and a terrible sensation of weakness, she slid back at eachupheave of the muscular rump until she slid off and to the ground in aheap. Whereupon Spillbeans trotted off toward the water.

  Carley sat up before Glenn and Flo reached her. Manifestly they wereconcerned about her, but both were ready to burst with laughter. Carleyknew she was not hurt and she was so glad to be off the mustang that, onthe moment, she could almost have laughed herself.

  "That beast is well named," she said. "He spilled me, all right. And Ipresume I resembled a sack of beans."

  "Carley--you're--not hurt?" asked Glenn, choking, as he helped her up.

  "Not physically. But my feelings are."

  Then Glenn let out a hearty howl of mirth, which was seconded by aloud guffaw from Hutter. Flo, however, appeared to be able to restrainwhatever she felt. To Carley she looked queer.

  "Pitch! You called it that," said Carley.

  "Oh, he didn't really pitch. He just humped up a few times," repliedFlo, and then when she saw how Carley was going to take it she burstinto a merry peal of laughter. Charley, the sheep herder was grinning,and some of the other men turned away with shaking shoulders.

  "Laugh, you wild and woolly Westerners!" ejaculated Carley. "It musthave been funny. I hope I can be a good sport.... But I bet you I ridehim tomorrow."

  "Shore you will," replied Flo.

  Evidently the little incident drew the party closer together. Carleyfelt a warmth of good nature that overcame her first feeling ofhumiliation. They expected such things from her, and she should expectthem, too, and take them, if not fearlessly or painlessly, at leastwithout resentment.

  Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while doingso she took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At secondglance the place had a certain attraction difficult for her to define.She could see far, and the view north toward those strange gray-coloredsymmetrical hills was one that fascinated while it repelled her. Near athand the ground sloped down to a large rock-bound lake, perhaps a milein circumference. In the distance, along the shore she saw a whiteconical tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects she took forsheep.

  The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeettogether, turned them loose. Twilight had fallen and each man appearedto be briskly set upon his own task. Glenn was cutting around the footof a thickly branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bedfor her and Flo. All that Carley could see that could be used for suchpurpose was a canvas-covered roll. Presently Glenn untied a rope fromround this, unrolled it, and dragged it under the cedar. Then he spreaddown the outer layer of canvas, disclosing a considerable thicknessof blankets. From under the top of these he pulled out two flat littlepillows. These he placed in position, and turned back some of theblankets.

  "Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp overthem," directed Glenn. "If it rains pull the tarp up over your head--andlet it rain."

  This direction sounded in Glenn's cheery voice a good deal morepleasurable than the possibilities suggested. Surely that cedar treecould not keep off rain or snow.

  "Glenn, how about--about animals--and crawling things, you know?"queried Carley.

  "Oh, there are a few tarantulas and centipedes, and sometimes ascorpion. But these don't crawl around much at night. The only thing toworry about are the hydrophobia skunks."

  "What on earth are they?" asked Carley, quite aghast.

  "Skunks are polecats, you know," replied Glenn, cheerfully. "Sometimesone gets bitten by a coyote that has rabies, and then he's a dangerouscustomer. He has no fear and he may run across you and bite you in theface. Queer how they generally bite your nose. Two men have been bittensince I've been here. One of them died, and the other had to go to thePasteur Institute with a well-developed case of hydrophobia."

  "Good heavens!" cried Carley, horrified.

  "You needn't be afraid," said Glenn. "I'll tie one of the dogs near yourbed."

  Carley wondered whether Glenn's casual, easy tone had been adopted forher benefit or was merely an assimilation from this Western life. Notimprobably Glenn himself might be capable of playing a trick on her.Carley endeavored to fortify herself against disaster, so that when itbefell she might not be wholly ludicrous.

  With the coming of twilight a cold, keen wind moaned through the cedars.Carley would have hovered close to the fire even if she had not beentoo tired to exert herself. Despite her aches, she did justice tothe supper. It amazed her that appetite consumed her to the extent ofovercoming a distaste for this strong, coarse cooking. Before the mealended darkness had fallen, a windy raw darkness that enveloped heavilylike a blanket. Presently Carley edged closer to the fire, and thereshe stayed, alternately turning back and front to the welcome heat. Sheseemingly roasted hands, face, and knees while her back froze. The windblew the smoke in all directions. When she groped around with blurred,smarting eyes to escape the hot smoke, it followed her. The othermembers of the party sat comfortably on sacks or rocks, without muchnotice of the smoke that so exasperated Carley. Twice Glenn insistedthat she take a seat he had fixed for her, but she preferred to standand move around a little.

  By and by the camp tasks of the men appeared to be ended, and allgathered near the fire to lounge and smoke and talk. Glenn and Hutterengaged in interested conversation with two Mexicans, evidently sheepherders. If the wind and cold had not made Carley so uncomfortable shemight have found the scene picturesque. How black the night! She couldscarcely distinguish the sky at all. The cedar branches swished inthe wind, and from the gloom came a low sound of waves lapping a rockyshore. Presently Glenn held up a hand.

  "Listen, Carley!" he said.

  Then she heard strange wild yelps, staccato, piercing, somehowinfinitely lonely. They made her shudder.

  "Coyotes," said Glenn. "You'll come to love that chorus. Hear the dogsbark back."

  Carley listened with interest, but she was inclined to doubt that shewould ever become enamoured of such wild cries.

  "Do coyotes come near camp?" she queried.

  "Shore. Sometimes they pull your pillow out from under your head,"replied Flo, laconically.

  Carley did not ask any more questions. Natural history was not herfavorite study and she was sure she could dispense with any first-handknowledge of desert beasts. She thought, however, she heard one ofthe men say, "Big varmint prowlin' round the sheep." To which Hutterreplied, "Reckon it was a bear." And Glenn said, "I saw his fresh trackby the lake. Some bear!"

  The heat from the fire made Carley so drowsy that she could scarcelyhold up her head. She longed for bed even if it was out there in theopen. Presently Flo called her: "Come. Let's walk a little beforeturning in."

  So Carley permitted herself to be led to and fro down an open aislebetween some cedars. The far end of that aisle, dark, gloomy, with thebushy secretive cedars all around, caused Carley apprehension she wasashamed to admit. Flo talked eloquently about the joys of camp life, andhow the harder any outdoor task was and the more endurance and pain itrequired, the more pride and pleasure one had in remembering it. Carleywas weighing the import of these words when suddenly Flo clutched herarm. "What's that?" she whispered, tensely.

  Carley stood stockstill. They had reached the furthermost end of thataisle, but had turned to go back. The flare of the camp fire threw a wanlight into the shadows before them. There came a rustling in the brush,a snapping of twigs. Cold tremors chased up and down Carley's back.

  "Shore it's a varmint, all right. Let's hurry," whispered Flo.

  Carley needed no urging. It appeared that Flo was not going to run. Shewalked fast, peering back over her shoulder, and, hanging to Carley'sarm, she rounded a large cedar that h
ad obstructed some of thefirelight. The gloom was not so thick here. And on the instant Carleyespied a low, moving object, somehow furry, and gray in color. Shegasped. She could not speak. Her heart gave a mighty throb and seemed tostop.

  "What--do you see?" cried Flo, sharply, peering ahead. "Oh!... Come,Carley. Run!"

  Flo's cry showed she must nearly be strangled with terror. But Carleywas frozen in her tracks. Her eyes were riveted upon the gray furryobject. It stopped. Then it came faster. It magnified. It was a hugebeast. Carley had no control over mind, heart, voice, or muscle. Herlegs gave way. She was sinking. A terrible panic, icy, sickening,rending, possessed her whole body.

  The huge gray thing came at her. Into the rushing of her ears brokethudding sounds. The thing leaped up. A horrible petrifaction suddenlymade stone of Carley. Then she saw a gray mantlelike object cast asideto disclose the dark form of a man. Glenn!

  "Carley, dog-gone it! You don't scare worth a cent," he laughinglycomplained.

  She collapsed into his arms. The liberating shock was as great as hadbeen her terror. She began to tremble violently. Her hands got back asense of strength to clutch. Heart and blood seemed released from thatice-banded vise.

  "Say, I believe you were scared," went on Glenn, bending over her.

  "Scar-ed!" she gasped. "Oh--there's no word--to tell--what I was!"

  Flo came running back, giggling with joy. "Glenn, she shore took you fora bear. Why, I felt her go stiff as a post!... Ha! Ha! Ha! Carley, nowhow do you like the wild and woolly?"

  "Oh! You put up a trick on me!" ejaculated Carley. "Glenn, how couldyou? ... Such a terrible trick! I wouldn't have minded somethingreasonable. But that! Oh, I'll never forgive you!"

  Glenn showed remorse, and kissed her before Flo in a way that made somelittle amends. "Maybe I overdid it," he said. "But I thought you'd havea momentary start, you know, enough to make you yell, and then you'dsee through it. I only had a sheepskin over my shoulders as I crawled onhands and knees."

  "Glenn, for me you were a prehistoric monster--a dinosaur, orsomething," replied Carley.

  It developed, upon their return to the campfire circle, that everybodyhad been in the joke; and they all derived hearty enjoyment from it.

  "Reckon that makes you one of us," said Hutter, genially. "We've all hadour scares."

  Carley wondered if she were not so constituted that such trickeryalienated her. Deep in her heart she resented being made to showher cowardice. But then she realized that no one had really seen anyevidence of her state. It was fun to them.

  Soon after this incident Hutter sounded what he called the roll-call forbed. Following Flo's instructions, Carley sat on their bed, pulled offher boots, folded coat and sweater at her head, and slid down under theblankets. How strange and hard a bed! Yet Carley had the most delicioussense of relief and rest she had ever experienced. She straightened outon her back with a feeling that she had never before appreciated theluxury of lying down.

  Flo cuddled up to her in quite sisterly fashion, saying: "Now don'tcover your head. If it rains I'll wake and pull up the tarp. Good night,Carley." And almost immediately she seemed to fall asleep.

  For Carley, however, sleep did not soon come. She had too many aches;the aftermath of her shock of fright abided with her; and the blacknessof night, the cold whip of wind over her face, and the unprotectedhelplessness she felt in this novel bed, were too entirely new anddisturbing to be overcome at once. So she lay wide eyed, staring at thedense gray shadow, at the flickering lights upon the cedar. At lengthher mind formed a conclusion that this sort of thing might be worth thehardship once in a lifetime, anyway. What a concession to Glenn's West!In the secret seclusion of her mind she had to confess that if hervanity had not been so assaulted and humiliated she might have enjoyedherself more. It seemed impossible, however, to have thrills andpleasures and exaltations in the face of discomfort, privation, and anuneasy half-acknowledged fear. No woman could have either a good or aprofitable time when she was at her worst. Carley thought she would notbe averse to getting Flo Hutter to New York, into an atmosphere whollystrange and difficult, and see how she met situation after situationunfamiliar to her. And so Carley's mind drifted on until at last shesuccumbed to drowsiness.

  A voice pierced her dreams of home, of warmth and comfort. Somethingsharp, cold, and fragrant was scratching her eyes. She opened them.Glenn stood over her, pushing a sprig of cedar into her face.

  "Carley, the day is far spent," he said, gayly. "We want to roll up yourbedding. Will you get out of it?"

  "Hello, Glenn! What time is it?" she replied.

  "It's nearly six."

  "What!... Do you expect me to get up at that ungodly hour?"

  "We're all up. Flo's eating breakfast. It's going to be a bad day, I'mafraid. And we want to get packed and moving before it starts to rain."

  "Why do girls leave home?" she asked, tragically.

  "To make poor devils happy, of course," he replied, smiling down uponher.

  That smile made up to Carley for all the clamoring sensations of stiff,sore muscles. It made her ashamed that she could not fling herself intothis adventure with all her heart. Carley essayed to sit up. "Oh, I'mafraid my anatomy has become disconnected!... Glenn, do I look a sight?"She never would have asked him that if she had not known she could bearinspection at such an inopportune moment.

  "You look great," he asserted, heartily. "You've got color. And as foryour hair--I like to see it mussed that way. You were always one to haveit dressed--just so.... Come, Carley, rustle now."

  Thus adjured, Carley did her best under adverse circumstances. And shewas gritting her teeth and complimenting herself when she arrived at thetask of pulling on her boots. They were damp and her feet appearedto have swollen. Moreover, her ankles were sore. But she accomplishedgetting into them at the expense of much pain and sundry utterancesmore forcible than elegant. Glenn brought her warm water, a mitigatingcircumstance. The morning was cold and thought of that biting desertwater had been trying.

  "Shore you're doing fine," was Flo's greeting. "Come and get it beforewe throw it out."

  Carley made haste to comply with the Western mandate, and was once againconfronted with the singular fact that appetite did not wait upon thetroubles of a tenderfoot. Glenn remarked that at least she would notstarve to death on the trip.

  "Come, climb the ridge with me," he invited. "I want you to take a lookto the north and east."

  He led her off through the cedars, up a slow red-earth slope, away fromthe lake. A green moundlike eminence topped with flat red rock appearednear at hand and not at all a hard climb. Nevertheless, her eyesdeceived her, as she found to the cost of her breath. It was both faraway and high.

  "I like this location," said Glenn. "If I had the money I'd buy thissection of land--six hundred and forty acres--and make a ranch of it.Just under this bluff is a fine open flat bench for a cabin. You couldsee away across the desert clear to Sunset Peak. There's a good springof granite water. I'd run water from the lake down into the lower flats,and I'd sure raise some stock."

  "What do you call this place?" asked Carley, curiously.

  "Deep Lake. It's only a watering place for sheep and cattle. But there'sfine grazing, and it's a wonder to me no one has ever settled here."

  Looking down, Carley appreciated his wish to own the place; andimmediately there followed in her a desire to get possession of thistract of land before anyone else discovered its advantages, and tohold it for Glenn. But this would surely conflict with her intentionof persuading Glenn to go back East. As quickly as her impulse had beenborn it died.

  Suddenly the scene gripped Carley. She looked from near to far, tryingto grasp the illusive something. Wild lonely Arizona land! She sawragged dumpy cedars of gray and green, lines of red earth, and a roundspace of water, gleaming pale under the lowering clouds; and in thedistance isolated hills, strangely curved, wandering away to a blackuplift of earth obscured in the sky.

  These appeared to be mere steps leading
her sight farther and higher tothe cloud-navigated sky, where rosy and golden effulgence betokened thesun and the east. Carley held her breath. A transformation was going onbefore her eyes.

  "Carley, it's a stormy sunrise," said Glenn.

  His words explained, but they did not convince. Was this sudden-burstingglory only the sun rising behind storm clouds? She could see the cloudsmoving while they were being colored. The universal gray surrenderedunder some magic paint brush. The rifts widened, and the gloom of thepale-gray world seemed to vanish. Beyond the billowy, rolling, creamyedges of clouds, white and pink, shone the soft exquisite fresh bluesky. And a blaze of fire, a burst of molten gold, sheered up from behindthe rim of cloud and suddenly poured a sea of sunlight from east towest. It transfigured the round foothills. They seemed bathed inethereal light, and the silver mists that overhung them faded whileCarley gazed, and a rosy flush crowned the symmetrical domes. Southwardalong the horizon line, down-dropping veils of rain, just touched withthe sunrise tint, streamed in drifting slow movement from cloud toearth. To the north the range of foothills lifted toward the majesticdome of Sunset Peak, a volcanic upheaval of red and purple cinders, bareas rock, round as the lower hills, and wonderful in its color. Full inthe blaze of the rising sun it flaunted an unchangeable front. Carleyunderstood now what had been told her about this peak. Volcanic fireshad thrown up a colossal mound of cinders burned forever to the huesof the setting sun. In every light and shade of day it held true to itsname. Farther north rose the bold bulk of the San Francisco Peaks,that, half lost in the clouds, still dominated the desert scene. Then asCarley gazed the rifts began to close. Another transformation began, thereverse of what she watched. The golden radiance of sunrise vanished,and under a gray, lowering, coalescing pall of cloud the round hillsreturned to their bleak somberness, and the green desert took again itscold sheen.

  "Wasn't it fine, Carley?" asked Glenn. "But nothing to what you willexperience. I hope you stay till the weather gets warm. I want you tosee a summer dawn on the Painted Desert, and a noon with the great whiteclouds rolling up from the horizon, and a sunset of massed purple andgold. If they do not get you then I'll give up."

  Carley murmured something of her appreciation of what she had just seen.Part of his remark hung on her ear, thought-provoking and disturbing. Hehoped she would stay until summer! That was kind of him. But her visitmust be short and she now intended it to end with his return East withher. If she did not persuade him to go he might not want to go for awhile, as he had written--"just yet." Carley grew troubled in mind. Suchmental disturbance, however, lasted no longer than her return with Glennto camp, where the mustang Spillbeans stood ready for her to mount. Heappeared to put one ear up, the other down, and to look at her with mildsurprise, as if to say: "What--hello--tenderfoot! Are you going to rideme again?"

  Carley recalled that she had avowed she would ride him. There was noalternative, and her misgivings only made matters worse. Nevertheless,once in the saddle, she imagined she had the hallucination that toride off so, with the long open miles ahead, was really thrilling. Thisremarkable state of mind lasted until Spillbeans began to trot, andthen another day of misery beckoned to Carley with gray stretches ofdistance.

  She was to learn that misery, as well as bliss, can swallow up thehours. She saw the monotony of cedar trees, but with blurred eyes; shesaw the ground clearly enough, for she was always looking down, hopingfor sandy places or rocky places where her mustang could not trot.

  At noon the cavalcade ahead halted near a cabin and corral, which turnedout to be a sheep ranch belonging to Hutter. Here Glenn was so busy thathe had no time to devote to Carley. And Flo, who was more at home ona horse than on the ground, rode around everywhere with the men. Mostassuredly Carley could not pass by the chance to get off Spillbeans andto walk a little. She found, however, that what she wanted most was torest. The cabin was deserted, a dark, damp place with a rank odor. Shedid not stay long inside.

  Rain and snow began to fall, adding to what Carley felt to be adisagreeable prospect. The immediate present, however, was cheered bya cup of hot soup and some bread and butter which the herder Charleybrought her. By and by Glenn and Hutter returned with Flo, and allpartook of some lunch.

  All too soon Carley found herself astride the mustang again. Glennhelped her don the slicker, an abominable sticky rubber coat thatbundled her up and tangled her feet round the stirrups. She was glad tofind, though, that it served well indeed to protect her from raw windand rain.

  "Where do we go from here?" Carley inquired, ironically.

  Glenn laughed in a way which proved to Carley that he knew perfectlywell how she felt. Again his smile caused her self-reproach. Plainindeed was it that he had really expected more of her in the way ofcomplaint and less of fortitude. Carley bit her lips.

  Thus began the afternoon ride. As it advanced the sky grew morethreatening, the wind rawer, the cold keener, and the rain cut likelittle bits of sharp ice. It blew in Carley's face. Enough snow fell towhiten the open patches of ground. In an hour Carley realized thatshe had the hardest task of her life to ride to the end of the day'sjourney. No one could have guessed her plight. Glenn complimented herupon her adaptation to such unpleasant conditions. Flo evidently was onthe lookout for the tenderfoot's troubles. But as Spillbeans, had takento lagging at a walk, Carley was enabled to conceal all outward sign ofher woes. It rained, hailed, sleeted, snowed, and grew colder all thetime. Carley's feet became lumps of ice. Every step the mustang tooksent acute pains ramifying from bruised and raw places all over herbody.

  Once, finding herself behind the others and out of sight in the cedars,she got off to walk awhile, leading the mustang. This would not do,however, because she fell too far in the rear. Mounting again, she rodeon, beginning to feel that nothing mattered, that this trip would be theend of Carley Burch. How she hated that dreary, cold, flat land the roadbisected without end. It felt as if she rode hours to cover a mile. Inopen stretches she saw the whole party straggling along, separated fromone another, and each for himself. They certainly could not be enjoyingthemselves. Carley shut her eyes, clutched the pommel of the saddle,trying to support her weight. How could she endure another mile? Alas!there might be many miles. Suddenly a terrible shock seemed to rackher. But it was only that Spillbeans had once again taken to a trot.Frantically she pulled on the bridle. He was not to be thwarted. Openingher eyes, she saw a cabin far ahead which probably was the destinationfor the night. Carley knew she would never reach it, yet she clung ondesperately. What she dreaded was the return of that stablike pain inher side. It came, and life seemed something abject and monstrous. Sherode stiff legged, with her hands propping her stiffly above the pommel,but the stabbing pain went right on, and in deeper. When the mustanghalted his trot beside the other horses Carley was in the lastextremity. Yet as Glenn came to her, offering a hand, she still hid heragony. Then Flo called out gayly: "Carley, you've done twenty-five mileson as rotten a day as I remember. Shore we all hand it to you. And I'mconfessing I didn't think you'd ever stay the ride out. Spillbeans isthe meanest nag we've got and he has the hardest gait."