She arose from the flat rock upon which she had been resting and began pacing nervously back and forth. Snatches of verses she said aloud, then some strain of a song floated spasmodically across the range, too wide to send back an echo. The moon, with its brief consolation, had gone behind the horizon, and the night was rapidly growing darker. A qualm of fear filled the girl’s heart, as a coyote’s shrill, hungry cry rent the air. She quickly drew forth the weapon which she had always worn, from its snug and inconspicuous pocket, and stood ready to defend rather than for defense.
From out the gloom she felt rather than heard an approach, which she prayed might be Henry West. A low whistle came in response to her call, and soon Mauchacho was led to his mistress and his soft nose brushed caressingly against her arm.
“I had a hard time in finding the saddle or else I might have returned sooner. Have you been very anxious and lonely?”
“Can we hurry away from here, Henry. I cannot bear to feel these dreadful, hungry creatures so near,” replied Bess, as another unearthly cry came from the waiting, anxious coyotes.
West placed Bess in the saddle, flung his own empty one upon the horse and walked swiftly forward leading the way. At length they came to a ranch where West secured a horse, and rode with conservative speed toward home.
It was after numerous futile calls that at last they heard the squeak of the ferry-boat as it came laboriously across the stream in the darkness to meet them. Dark clouds were filling the sky and another rain seemed imminent. Groping his way with the horses, West led them on to the boat and then lifted Bess from the saddle. Silently they stood as the Indian rowed them over the dark water. Startled by a glare of lightning Bess placed her arm through Henry West’s and gave it a pressure of confidence.
“Had it not been for the gleam of the beads showing me your belt I doubt if I could have lifted you, Bess—for our—our ride—today,” said Henry, after a long silence. “Where did you get it? I do not remember ever seeing you wear it before!”
“I have only had it today. An Indian woman gave it to me this morning as I came over on this ferry, because—well, because I held her little dirty baby in my arms!”
“Bess, that same Indian woman was the one who directed me when I discovered Mauchacho’s shoe print in the trail leading away from the right direction. She also told me with tears in her eyes why she gave you her belt. Not wishing to alarm James, I did not even show him where you and Mauchacho had gone, giving him some excuse. I borrowed his spurs, for I knew, intuitively perhaps, that Eagle—even Eagle—might need them, for the first time.”
“And for the last time, also,” added Bess, and tears again came freely.