Then he strolled back along the wall, loitering here to gaze into a cave, and there to study crude red paintings in the nooks. And sometimes he halted thoughtfully and did not see anything. At length he rounded a corner of cliff to espy Nas Ta Bega sitting upon the ledge, reposeful and watchful as usual. Shefford told the Indian they would be climbing out soon, and then he sat down to wait and let his gaze rove over the valley.
He might have sat there a long while, so sad and reflective and wondering was his thought, but it seemed a very short time till Fay came in sight with her free, swift grace, and Lassiter and Jane some distance behind. Jane carried a small bundle and Lassiter had a sack over his shoulder that appeared no inconsiderable burden.
“Them beans shore is heavy,” he drawled, as he deposited the sack upon the ground.
Shefford curiously took hold of the sack and was amazed to find that a second and hard muscular effort was required to lift it.
“Beans?” he queried.
“Shore,” replied Lassiter.
“That's the heaviest sack of beans I ever saw. Why—it's not possible it can be.... Lassiter, we've a long, rough trail. We've got to pack light—”
“Wal, I ain't a-goin' to leave this here sack behind. Reckon I've been all of twelve years in fillin' it,” he declared, mildly.
Shefford could only stare at him.
“Fay may need them beans,” went on Lassiter.