Joy groaned as she limped along. By resting many times the girls reached the clump of Palo Verde trees, and were glad to drop down in their scant shade. Joy's face was white and strained.
"I know what I'd do if I had my way," announced Enid anxiously. "I'd get you home at once."
"But I won't go. I want to wait for the others."
Enid sat down on the ground beside Joy, crouched under the bushes.
They were close to the wall of the cliff.
"What a funny rock!" said Enid. "I wonder what causes these strange formations. Doesn't that look like an altar? And there is a figure of a man in a long robe. And the professor will tell us that it is all made by the rain."
"Yes," said Joy indifferently. "You know, Enid, I'm tired of this Arizona country. I hate these bare mountains, and I hate the herds of cattle that stare at you and then race madly away. Everything is unfriendly. Yet, I'm almost sure I'll be homesick, like Kit, when I once get away."
"It's glorious!" answered Enid.
"It frightens me. Everything seems cruel. I'd give a dollar this minute to see a soft, green meadow."
"I'm perfectly happy right here, I wouldn't have it different." Enid was gazing over the ranges of mountains that seemed to go on and on.
It was half an hour later when the girls heard Bet's familiar call.