One more difficult stretch had to be overcome before Shotaye could reach the timber crowning the plateau on the northern cliffs of the Rito.  Massive benches or ledges, abrupt and high, seemed to render farther ascent impracticable.  But Shotaye kept on after a short stop without the slightest hesitation.  The trail wound its way upward.  It crept from rocky step to rocky step, led her from crags to narrow bands skirting dizzy cliffs, until she came to a level where the timber of the northern mesa was easily reached.  Once in the shade of pines she looked around; the original object of her expedition returned to her mind, and she scanned with particular care the underbrush in hope of finding there the herbs on which she based the efficacy of her cures.  It thundered audibly, but that was nothing to her.

There, close to a juniper-bush, grew one of the coveted plants.  She went to it, knelt down, and began to pull it up by the roots.

Suddenly she felt both of her upper arms seized with irresistible power.  Her body was jerked backward.  Ere she could think of resistance, she was lying on the ground.  Not a shriek, however, escaped her mouth, for although surprised, the woman had presence of mind enough to think that either Tyope or some Navajo must have attacked her.  In either case it was useless to scream, for in either case she was lost.  As soon however as she was able to glance at her captor her worst fears were dispelled.

The man, or being, whatever he might be, loosened his grip and stood erect.  He looked down into her face and grinned.  That grin did not in the least beautify his already horrible features.  The creature was indeed a man, but so disfigured by paint and accoutrements that any one unaccustomed to the appearance of Indian warriors in full dress must necessarily have taken him for some fiend or demon from the nether world.  He was of robust build, his muscular chest was naked to the waist, a kilt of deer-hide covered his thighs, and his feet rested on small hoops laid horizontally and tied to them like sandals.  Face and body were painted with a black metallic powder; under each eye there was a red dash.  Out of this sinister face the eyes gleamed like living coals; and the smile, though intended for a friendly token, appeared more like a beastly leer.  A close-fitting cap covered the skull to the ears, giving it the appearance of ghastly baldness.  From under this protection coarse locks of black hair protruded.

Shotaye looked up at the monster, and, strange to say, returned his horrid grin with a smile and with encouraging winks.  But the man did not move; he only let go her arms.  So she rose.  Thereupon he touched her right arm with his left hand, pointed at himself with the right, and uttered in a strange dialect, “Tehua.”  Afterward he pointed at her, adding, “tema quio,” and accompanied these words by most significant gestures.

Shotaye did not understand the language, but the signs were clear to her.