Rimrock Trail

crumbled, weathered margin, crept along the face of the cliff above a deep ca?on where the night shadows had already

long climb, not yet inured to the saddle. The horses traveled gamely, sure-footed but obviously losing end

orced to dismount and lead the nervous beasts, Sandy doing the coaxing, helping Molly over the difficult places. He rode a mare named Gold

e lay ahead, the path little better than one made by the goats for which the pass was named. Behi

?" asked Molly. "Wil

er-night, we'll hire us a car an' keep movin'. Yo're sure game,

ead with an att

ge," she admitted, looking into the gloomy trough

t off. Trail's bound to be better once we git atop the mesa and start down. Mesa's right narrer, as I remember. T'other side's away from th

. "Downhill all the way soon an' then a drink to wash out

y quick up here,

inland seas. A hard skeleton of igneous rock, with clayey soil for flesh, riven and seamed and pitted, crumbling and dusty in the sun, ever disintegrating with wind and water and frost. Under a rain the trail was slimy as a whale's back. The cloud was soggy with moisture. Bursting, it would send torrents roaring down every ravine, wash out weathere

here the flood would be confined, their chance for escape would be infinitesimal. Even on the heights it

fore he mounted. And he whispered something in t

olly," he said. "I'm lettin' Goldie

d drifted down upon it, glooming and glowing on its sunset side. The crag pierced it, ripped it as it glided along, like the knife of a diver in the belly of a shark. A cold wind blew from the riven mass. Then came the hiss of descending waters. There was neither thun

ming from the rim of her Stetson, the thud of the rain on her tired shoulders heavy as shot. The bay slipped, lurched, scrambled frantically for footing, hind feet skidding in the clay, haunches gathering desperately, heaving beneath her to the effort that brought him back to the trail. She saw Sandy ahead, dimly, like a sheeted ghost, twisted in his saddle, watching her. From

er of augmenting waters. Masses of broken cloud swept on above their heads, purple and crimson and orange as they streamed across the summit like the tattered banners of a routed army. The light rayed upward at an acute angle. In a few moments it would be dark.

e ground slopping away beneath him, slid slowly down toward the gulf, the girl, her weight flung forward on the withers, her face white as paper, turning to hi

w. There was no time to spin a loop. But his hand detached the rope, flying fin

back, whistling as it streaked across the girl's shoulders. She clutched for it, with plenty o

oke to t

saddle. The bay was cat-footed; with the help of the mare Sandy believed he could dig and scrape and climb to safety. It

brink of death for a moment, two-three-and then the mare began to move slowly forward, neck curved, ears cocked to her master's urging, while the bay sloshed through the treacherous muck, found foothold, lost

's oveh an' stars comin' out. We're top of the pass. We'll git down inter th

ared from his hold, gaspin

t I knew you'd pull me out. I'm plumb shamed of

. Wonder did he strain himself?" He passed cl

hone through the flying wrack. A clean, strong wind blew through the throat of the pass. Sandy recoiled his lariat, gave Molly a hand to her foot to lift her to her saddle, mounted himself and they ro

between horses and machines. There he expected to put up the horses until they could be returned to Three Star, and there he figured on hiring a car and a driver if, as he anticipated, there were no more trains that night.