They had but little water remaining in Howard's canteen, and Kish Taka scorned carrying water for himself; but he had outlined the trail they would take and appeared confident that they would not suffer from lack of water. They struck out toward the south-east, the Indian swinging along ahead, his body stooped a little forward, his thin arms hanging loose at his sides. Several times Howard stopped to drink; the Indian drank once only before their arrival at the spring. Here they rested and ate. The night was already far advanced and glorious with its blazing stars, and they did not tarry long. In half an hour they moved on again. As day was breaking Kish Taka led the way up a steep-sided mesa and, catching Howard's arm, pointed out toward the east.
'Here we turn,' he explained. 'Not so far that way, maybe two hours, we find more water. Then we go that way,' and he indicated that they must bear off a little to the south, 'and more water. Then we sleep in shade. Then at night, not too far, see your place.'
It came about that all that Kish Taka had predicted was so. They found water; they spent the long day in the shade of some stunted trees; they ate all but a few scraps of their food; they went on again at sundown. In the pink flush of another dawn they stood together on the uplands back of Last Ridge and saw before them and below them the green of Desert Valley. In the foreground, a thin wisp of smoke arose from the spot where the Longstreets were camped.
'Kish Taka go back now.' The Indian stood, arms folded across his gaunt chest, eyes hard on Howard's. 'Back to the Bad Lands to sit down. Soon Kish Taka's dog comes and with him a man. And while he waits, Kish Taka will make many stones piled up on his brother.'
He swung on his heel to go. But Howard caught at his arm.
'Wait,' he said. 'Two things! One, where that fire is are two people.
An old man and a girl. They are my friends, Kish Taka.'
Kish Taka nodded.
'My frien's,' he said simply.
'The other thing,' said Howard. 'Kish Taka, hungry, killed my calves. He left gold. When again Kish Taka is hungry, let him kill as many calves as he pleases. But let him keep his gold.'
Again the Indian nodded. And this time Howard let him go.