The next instant, however, Dawapa had jumped up and seized the young man by the arm.
“Take me home; I don’t like it here. I have fear, Tewa,” Dawapa whispered.
Her companion shook his head.
“It is too far; there will be no time before the storm gets here.” Freeing himself, he walked quickly away.
Half an hour later the first informal Sunrise Camp Fire dance was over. The young men guests had started back on the trail toward the Gardener ranch.
In another half hour Mrs. Burton and the girls were in their tents asleep.
Tewa, the Indian, had disappeared.
Only Mr. Simpson had not retired. He had gone down to his own solitary tent after the young men visitors departed. But he did not seem able to sleep.
The moon had gone down, but the night was still fairly clear, with a few stars overhead.
However, over toward the southwest there was a yellowish white cloud rolling up the horizon. Suddenly, all the vitality and freshness had gone from the atmosphere.