"Come ahead!"
The little camp was only an open space at the cañon edge, with a sheepskin shelter over a tiny fire. Beside the fire stood a sheep-herder, a swarthy figure wrapped from head to foot in sheepskins. Over in the darkness by the mountain wall were the many nameless sounds that tell of animals herding for the night. The shepherd greeted them with the perfect courtesy of the Mexican.
"Señors, the camp is yours!"
Kut-le lifted the shivering Rhoda from her horse. The rain was lessening but the cold was still so great that Rhoda huddled gratefully by the little fire under the sheepskin shelter. Kut-le refused the Mexican's offer of tortillas and the man sat down to enjoy their society. He eyed Rhoda keenly.
"Ah! It is a señorita!" Then he gasped. "It is perhaps the Señorita Rhoda Tuttle!"
Rhoda jumped to her feet.
"Yes! Yes! How did you know?"
Kut-le glared at the herder menacingly, but the little fellow did not see. He spoke up bravely, as if he had a message for Rhoda.
"Some people told me yesterday. They look for her everywhere!"
Rhoda's eyes lighted joyfully.