The Rainbow Trail

, feeling cramped and sore, yet with unfamiliar exhilaration. The whipping air made him stretch his hands to the fire. An odor of coffee and broiled meat

r one side of dark cliffs and golden streaks of mist

ing," said

shyly repli

Nas Ta Bega

e that of an eagle, a bold, clean-cut profile, and stern, close-shut lips. His eyes were the most striking and attractive feat

horse tracks in the dust. They were those that had been made by Shefford's threatening visitor of the night before. Shefford explained by wo

not understand whether he meant the name of his visitor or somet

that pleased Shefford. He climbed a little stiffly into hi

a?" he

clay or loam, a hundred feet high, and at the bottom ran a swift, shallow stream of reddish water. Then for a time a high growth of greasewood hid the surroundings from Shefford's sight. Presently the trail led out into the open, and Shefford saw that he was at the neck of a wonder

istance it was seen to climb. Shefford found where it disappeared over the foot of a slope that formed a graceful rising line up to the cedared flank of the mesa. The valley floor, widening away to the north, remained level and green. Beyond rose the jagged range of red peaks, a

plain ended or at least broke its level. He was right, for presently the Indian pointed, and Shefford w

" said Na

e, grotesque monuments of yellow cliff. Then close under the foot of the slope he espied t

g at once-the crude stone structures with their earthen roofs, the piles of dirty wool, the Indians lolling around, the

ung in activity rather than face. A gun swung at his hip and a row of brass-tipped cartridges showed in his belt. Shefford looked into a face that he thought he had

at you were coming. I'm the trader Withers," he said to Shefford. Hi

aid he was as glad as he was

His tone expressed a surprise his face di

iefly related what he owed to him. Then Withers looke

let out a dry little laugh and his

dd?" asked

ith a gang of outlaws who hide in the San Juan country.... Rec

brey, the trader there, advised

e foolhardiness of Shefford's act. "Come into the house....

inted upon the whitewashed walls. Withers called his wife and made her acquainted with Shefford. She was a slight, comely little woman, with keen, earnest, dark eyes. She seemed to be serious and quiet, but she made Shefford feel at home immediately. He refused, however, to accept the room offered him, saying th

. "Now you make yourself at home. Stay here-come over to the

ilver money. Then they lingered and with slow, staid reluctance bought one thing and then another-flour, sugar, canned goods, coffee, tobacco, ammunition. The counter was never without two or three Indians leaning on their dark, silver-braceleted arms. But as they were slow to sell and buy and go, so were others slow to come in. Their voices were soft and low and it seemed to Shefford they were whispering. He liked to hear

daughter. The former was a huge, stout Indian wit

head, brown-skinned, with eyes as bright as beads. When the youngster caught sight of Shefford he made a startled dive into the sack of th

careful and cautious. That's why they're rich. This squaw, Yan A

what you call the pon

ngs, and mostly wil

who appeared to be stamping and packing wool with his feet. He grinned at the curious Shefford. But Shefford was more interested in the Mormon. So far as he knew, Whisner was the first man of that creed he had ever met, and he could scarcely hide his eagerness. Venters's stories had been of a long-past generation of Mormons, fanatical, ruthless, and unchangeable. Shefford did not expect to meet Mormons of this kind. B

t he would never be called upon to ride one of those wild brutes, and then he found himself thinking that he would ride one of them, and after

g which had made Kayenta famous. Presently down below the trading-post he saw a trough from which burros were drinking. Here he found the spring, a deep well of eddying water wa

pull their long ears and rub their noses, but the mustangs standing around were unappro

s riding away. Big wagons told how the bags of wool were transported out of the wilds and how supplies were brought in. A wide, hard-packe

of the post, that the feeling of wildness and loneliness returned to him. It was a wonderful count

. . .

before the blazing logs in the huge fireplace, the trader lai

many men and have been a friend to most....

eplied

had tr

es

ide? Don't be afraid to tel

t come t

after you? You'v

f, but no one else," rep

ell me, or keep your se

himself. This man was strong, per

Stay as long as you like. I take no pay from a

Kayenta, what I want to do, how long I shall stay. My thoughts put in words would seem so like dreams. Maybe the

storms we have rainbows that'll make you think you're in another world. The Navajos have rainbow

d thrilled. Here it was again-somethi

and almost as if he read his visitor's mind he be

. Probably she knew more of the Indians' habits, religion, and life than any white person in the West. Both tribes were friendly and peaceable, but there were bad Indians, half-breeds, and outlaws that made the trading-post a venture Withers had long considered precarious, and he wanted to move and intended to some day. His nearest neighbors in New Mexico and Colorado were a hundred miles

ard that name. In his memory it had a place beside the name o

replied Withers. "E

other villages in-in th

f and Monticello are far north across the San Juan.... Ther

d," replied Sh

Withers suddenly showed a semblance of the

tinence-I am deeply serio

" replied the tr

he Mormons or

em. I know them. I believe th

s for

only fair

o curb his thrilling impu

another village.... Was t

aced round to stare at She

traight story about yours

went," repl

n the lookout fo

't even know what you

s.... Yes, that's the name of the village I meant-the one th

became

ed away. I've heard Indians talk about a grand spring that

g," interrup

heard that name for ten years. I can't help seeing what a tenderfoot-stranger-you are to the deser

unable to conce

ear of a rider

wboy? Venters. No, I

named Lassiter?" queried Shef

N

f a Mormon woman nam

N

. He had followed a gleam-he had

a child-a girl-a wom

slowly with a

hard with you-though I'm n

ifted a sh

w I'm nothing-a wander

the other man's eyes; he looked

e said, slowly. "I reckon that's al

. . .

rmth. He felt cold. Withers had affected him strangely. What was the meaning of the trader's

d. I am twenty-four," be

the door inter

," calle

Nas Ta Bega slipped in. He said

ng his friendliness. Then he sat down before the fire, doubled his legs under him after the

er he comes to Kayenta he always visits me like

ty-two I was ready for my career as a clergyman. I preached for a year around at different places and then got a church in my home town of Beaumont. I became exceedingly good friends with a man named Venters, who had recently come to Beaumont. He was a singular man. His wife was a strange, beautiful woman, very res

lized that both seemed to be haunted by the past. They were sometimes sad even in their happiness. They drifted off into dreams. They lived back in another world. They seemed to be listening. Indeed, they were a singularly interestin

t fifteen years before he had been a rider for a rich Mormon woman named Jane Withersteen, of this village Cottonwoods. She had adopted a beautiful Gentile child named Fay Larkin. Her interest in Gentiles earned the displeasure of her churchmen, and as she was proud there came a breach. Venters and a gunman named Lassiter became involved in her quarrel. Finally Venters took to the canyon. Here in the wilds he found the strange girl he eventua