Rhoda took off her buckskins and tattered blue shirt slowly, with lips that would quiver.  This was the last, the very last of Kut-le!  She dressed herself in Katherine’s clothes, then folded up the buckskins and shirt.  She would keep them, always!  When she came out from the tent she stepped awkwardly, for the skirts bothered her, and Jack, waiting nearby, smiled at her.  At another time Rhoda would have joined in his amusement, but now she asked soberly: 

“Which horse is for me?”

“Rhoda!” cried DeWitt, “I really wouldn’t know you!  I thought I never could want you anything but ethereal, but—­Jack!  Isn’t she wonderful!”

Jack grinned.  Rhoda, tanned and oval-cheeked, and straight of back and shoulder, was not to be compared with the invalid Rhoda.

“Gee!” he said.  “Wait till Katherine sees her!”

Rhoda shrugged her shoulders.

“My pleasure in all that is swallowed up by this savage obsession of yours.”

John DeWitt led out Rhoda’s pony.

“You don’t understand, dear,” he said.  “You can’t doubt my heavenly joy at having you safe.  But the outrage of it all—­ That Apache devil!”

“I do understand, John,” answered Rhoda wearily.  “Don’t try to explain again.  I know just how you all feel.  Only, I will not have Kut-le killed.”

“Rhoda,” said DeWitt hoarsely, “I shall kill him as I would a yellow dog!”

Rhoda turned away.  The line of march was quickly formed.  Porter led.  Carlos closed the rear.  DeWitt and Newman rode on either side of Rhoda.  They were not long in reaching the trail down the canon wall.  Here they paused, for the rough ascent was impossible for the horses.  The men looked questioningly at Rhoda but she volunteered no information.  She believed that Kut-le had left the camp at the top long since.  If for any reason he had delayed his going, she knew that he had watched every movement in the white camp and could protect himself easily.

“We can leave Carlos with the horses,” said Porter, “while we climb up and see where the trail leads.”

Rhoda dismounted, still silent, and followed Porter and DeWitt up the trail.  Jack following her.  The trail had been difficult to descend and was very hard to ascend.  There was a dumb purposefulness about the men’s movements that sickened Rhoda.  She had seen too much of men in this mood of late and she feared them, She knew that all the amenities of civilization had been stripped from them and that she was only pitting her feeble strength against a world-old instinct.

Her heart was beating heavily as they neared the top, but not from the hard climb.  She was inured to difficult trails.  There was a sheer pull, shoulder high, at the top.  The four accomplished it in one breathless group, then stood as if paralyzed.

Sunlight flickered through the pines.  Molly and Cesca prepared the trail packs.  And Kut-le sat beside the spring, eying his visitors grimly.  He looked very cool and well groomed in comparison with his trail-worn adversaries.