The Rainbow Trail

top of Navajo Mountain behind, and to the fore the vast, rolling descent of cedar groves and sage flats and sandy washes. No d

een beaten flat. This, the Navajo said, was a track where the young braves had raced their mus

you ever race here

ome, and now I cannot ride well enough to race the

Shefford's attention to a big yellow rock lying alon

as Ta Bega had spoken. "Get down, and let's see." Sheffo

nd, bending over, clasped the stone in his arms. He was an exceedingly heavy and powerful man, and it was plain to Shefford that he meant to lift the stone if that were possible. Joe's broad shoulders strained, flattened; his arm

ord, with his lazy smile.

the Indian's eyes made Shefford curious about this stone. He bent over and grasped it as Joe had done. He braced himself and lifted with

t some day," observed Joe. Then he pointe

his head and sp

them can carry it he is a man. He who carries it farthest is the biggest man. And just so soon as any Indian can no longer lift it

at I am not a man," said S

, mounting, rode up the trail. But

ut I have never been a man. I never lifted that stone. S

ful. Could greater injury be done to man than

hite lambs, and some that appeared to be painted, and some so beautiful with their fleecy white all except black faces or ears or tails or feet. They ran right under Nack-yal's legs and bumped against Shefford, and kept bleating their thin-piped welcome. Under the cedars surrounding the several hogans were mustangs that took Shefford's eye. He saw an iron-gray with white mane and tail sweeping to the ground; and a fiery black, wilder than any other beast he had

nd beaten and gray, came out of the principal hogan. He wore a blanket round his bent shoulders. His name was Hosteen Doetin, and it meant gentle man. His fine, old, wrinkled face lighted with a smile of kindly inte

tling, kicking, plunging melee. A cloud of dust hid them, and then a thudding of swift hoofs told of a run throug

king out this load," he growled. "It

in said he would send to the camp and have the Piutes bring their share over. The suggestion suited Joe, who wanted to save his burros as much as possible. Accordingly, a messenger was despatched to the Piute camp.

ng light. It began very soft and low, a strange, broken murmur, like the music of a brook, and as it swelled that weird and mournful tone was slowly l

f his hogan, his blanket ar

ne by one the stars in the deep-blue sky paled and went out and the blue dome changed and lightened. Night had vanished on invisible wings and silence broke to the music of a mockingbird. The rose in the east deepened; a wisp of cloud turned gold; dim distant mountains showed dark against the red; and low down in a notch

e desert was his mother, but the sun was his life. To the keeper of the winds and rains, to

gs of the Earth let

hings of the Earth let

orses go and peacef

ns, give me many

ens, help me to

th, my Mother, let

ll is well, now all is

faith w

tribe of Navajos. A bride would rise from

visitors of night. His mustangs whistled to him from the ridge-tops, standing clear with heads up and manes flying, and then trooped down

e hogan of a sick relative, and joined in the song and the dance and the prayer that drove away the evil spirit of illness. Down in the valle

e the pine. Work and ride and play that you may be strong. Talk straight. Love your brother. Give

rail. The lofty pine, the lichened rock, the tiny bluebell, the seared crag-all whispered their secrets. For him their spirits spoke. In the morning light Old Stone Fa

nce that had so many whisperings was all about him, the loneliness of the wild was his. His falcon eye saw mustang and sheep, the puff of dust down on the cedar level, the Indian riding on a distant ridge, the gray walls, and the blue cl

d the west, and t

it, God of

orses in

heep in t

amily in

wake to

worthy of

well, now a

well, now a

e out of the west and the gray shadows creep out of the canyon to meet the twi

is blankets with his dark face tranquil in the starlight. All was well in his lonely world. Phantoms hovered, illness lingered, injury and pain and death were th

. . .

rapper, the trader, the prospector, and the missionary-so the white man had come, some of him good, no doubt, but more of him evil; and the young brave learned a thirst that co

. . .

d, "Withers told me you had a mix

t to say," re

Glen

Ta Bega'

tioned it. Who wa

Presbrey, the

he loo

dark eyes, the weak chin, the mild expressio

e long gown. That's what he called the missionary. These old fellows will never forget what's come down from father to son about the Spanish padres. Well, anyway, Willetts has been here twice after

Ta Bega?" a

re slow. They may take a week to pack that load over here. But if Nas Ta Beg

about this missionary?"

worked for Mormon interests, someway or other. That's on the quiet. Savvy? This matter of him coming after Glen Naspa, reckon that's all right. The missionaries all go af

ve of the

Jacob Hamblin?... Well, he was a Mormon missionary among the Navajos. The Navajos were as

e converts of them," repli

rd, I'll admit this: a good man, strong with his body, and learned in ways with his hands, with some knowledge of medicine, can better the condition of th

ould leave them!" repli

.... Willetts is after Glen Naspa. And if I know I

roke off and related the incide

mperturbably. "Let him talk love to her or rope her

controlling himself. From this single point of

ed Shefford. "But-if old Hosteen Doetin objects to the girl leavi

e matter is Glen Naspa. If

y something in this kind and genial Mormon, and he wanted to forget it. Just as he had never talk

ord spent the morning high on the slope, learning more with every hour in the silence and loneliness, that he

his intention to spy on them. He merely wanted to avoid a meeting. But the missionary's hand on the girl's arm, and her up-lifted head, her pretty face, strange, intent, troubled, struck Shefford with an unusual and irresistible curiosity. Willetts was talkin

e benefit of a doubt; and if he really cared for the Indian girl, and admitted or betrayed it, to think all the better of him for the fact. Glen Naspa was certainly pretty enough, and probably lovable enough, to please any lonely man

utes. They dismounted and led the mustangs down to the pool below the spring. Shefford saw another mustang, standing bridle down and carrying a pack behind the saddle. Some squaws with children hanging behind their skirts were standing at the door of Hosteen Doetin's hogan. Shefford glanced in to

the missionary. The old Navajo could work no longer. His sons were gone. His squaw was worn out. He had no o

id not look so mild as Shefford had him pictured in memory, nor did he appe

ajo lifted a

rist! Me hungry!... M

ntention to take the girl away. "Him come-big talk-Jesus-a

rned to the

he a relativ

don't know what. But it's n

better wait till Nas Ta Bega

t Indian may be gone a week. She's

looked at

a, do you

Bega would come back! It was thought of the Indian that made Shefford stubborn. What his stand ought to be was hard to define, unless

ion he seemed to find himself. He peered deliberately and searchingly into the other's

a missionary!" he b

are for G

to save the soul of heathen," he rep

her interest in you-exce

s violent tremor showed that under h

re an adventurer-an outcast. I've my duty here. I'm a mi

we're alone now out here on the desert. And this girl's brother is absent. You haven

insulting

e had expected and which damned the

e a liar!" said S

I've heard all about you. Heretic! Atheist! Driven fr

missionary had learned his secret-most likely from the Mormons in Stonebridge. And the terms of disgrace were coals of fire upon Shefford's head. Strangely, however, he did not bow to them, as had been his humble

ied, when the other had ceased. "N

l take

quickly, mounted, and rode off. Shefford saw him halt a moment under the cedars to speak with the three strange Indians, and then he galloped away. It came to Shefford then that he had been unconscious of the last strained moment of tha

spa flounce sullenly down, for all the world like any other thwarted girl. Ho

aimed, contemptuously. Then he gave Shefford

present. But Shefford felt that he had made

lves, and, so far as he knew, had no intercourse with any one at the camp. This would not have seemed unusual, considering the taciturn habit of Indians, had he not remembered seeing Willetts s

: Strong hands bound it while other strong hands held him. He could not cry out. He could not struggle. A heavy weight, evidently

. This kept on and grew worse for what seemed a long time. Then the horse was stopped and a rude hand tumbled him to the ground. Again he was rolled over on his face. Strong fingers plucked at his clothes, and he believed he was being searched. His captors were as silent as if they had been dumb. He felt when they took

ughly handled, he had not been hurt. He associated the assault with the three strange visitors of the preceding

ewhat as he breathed. He had really sunk down a little in this pile of soft earth. The day was not far off, as he could tell by the brightening of the gray. He began to suffer with the cold, and then slowly he seemed to freeze and grow numb. In an effort to roll over upon his back he discovered that hi

ervaded his body, slowly moving, as if poison had entered the blood of his veins. Then a puncture, as from a hot wire, entered the skin of his breast. Unmistakably it was a bite. By dint of great effort he twisted his head to see a big red ant on his breast. Then he heard a faint sound, so exceedingly faint that he could not tell what it was like. But prese

ants, and in an instant he was writhing in pain so horrible and so unendurable that he nearly fainted. But he was too strong to faint suddenly. A bath of vitriol, a stripping of his skin and red embers of fire thrown upon raw flesh, could not have equaled this. There was fury in the bites and poison in the fangs of th

given merciful death-agony under which his physical being began spasmodi

the roar in his ear

d to shade round the d

ugh the grass and sage, rolled him over and over, an