Proceeding at an easy canter the young lieutenant and his wife enjoyed the pure morning air. Here and there they would sometimes catch a glimpse of young coyotes playing at the mouth of a ravine. Overhead swung an eagle which could study from its height every crack in the surface of the plain, and note his foes and his intended prey. In the sage bush of the mesa and the willows along the creeks little birds were swinging and chattering merrily.
Up one long swell they rode and looked across to one still higher. From there, which seemed scarcely more than a mile away, they felt sure they must be able to view a vast stretch of country. Perhaps they could even see the wonderful sacred mountain. But that and another of these deceitful swells of the Western sea of sand and grass and sedge were passed without thought of turning back, and then Mrs. Avery exclaimed:
“Oh! see there! It is a castle!”
And, sure enough, there ahead of them, surmounting another of those “heights of land” or “divides,” gleaming, vari-colored in the sunlight, stood what at first glance might have been mistaken for some old-world castle of colossal size.
The lieutenant pulled his horse to a standstill and gazed in wonder and admiration.
“It is the sacred mountain,” he exclaimed. “And who can wonder that the simple savage peoples it with the children of his fancy, and tells among the tribes the dream of some romantic red yarn-spinner! We must go nearer and bring away some souvenirs to show, along with our description of this wonderful mountain palace and its pretty Indian legend.”
They rode on, causing their horses to leap gaping seams in the crust, and, after considerable difficulty, mounted the broad base which looked like an esplanade surrounding the citadel.
The commanding view of the country was delightful and the young couple lingered long in admiration.
Suddenly, from behind a bluff two miles to the westward, a score of mounted Indians swung into view.
The young lieutenant glanced at his bride and turned pale. Could their horses outfoot the wiry Indian war ponies? He feared the worst, and his throat grew parched as he pictured the fate of his wife in the hands of these red fiends.