The darkening blue sky and the
sun-tipped crags of Vermillion Cliffs were signals to start for camp.
They ate like wolves, sat for a while around the camp-fire, a ragged,
weary, silent group; and soon lay down, their dark faces in the shadow of
the cedars.
In the beginning of this toil-filled time Hare had resolutely set himself
to forget Mescal, and he had succeeded at least for a time, when he was
so sore and weary that he scarcely thought at all. But she came back to
him, and then there was seldom an hour that was not hers. The long
months which seemed years since he had seen her, the change in him
wrought by labor and peril, the deepening friendship between him and
Dave, even the love he bore Silvermane--these, instead of making dim the
memory of the dark-eyed girl, only made him tenderer in his thought of
her.
Snow drove the riders from the canyon-camp down to Silver Cup, where they
found August Naab and Snap, who had ridden in the day before.
"Now you couldn't guess how many cattle are back there in the canyons,"
said Dave to his father.
"I haven't any idea," answered August, dubiously.
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