be going down."
"Why are you doing this? You were clear of it, you were away, you were free. And sometimes I think you do not even like us."
"Shooting down hill that way... it can throw you off your target."
"You didn't answer me."
"Does a man have to have a reason? Maybe it is be cause you loaned me a horse." He paused at the trail's head and pointed off through the trees to the southwest. "You watch for me there. I'll come up west of that small canyon. But don't take it for granted that whoever comes will be me, and I won't come in the night.
"I'll identify myself, so be careful."
"It is good of you to help us, Mr. Carlin. Especially when Frederick has been so difficult."
He threw a quizzical glance at her. "I don't blame him. If I had a girl as lovely as you, I'd be careful, too. I wouldn't want her traipsing around the country with a strange man." "Maybe he trusts me."
"Doesn't look like it. Anyway, it isn't a matter of trusting. Maybe he's afraid I'll just take you and run, leave them all to the desert."
"I'd have something to say about that." She looked at him boldly. "Are you trying to frighten me?" She paused. "After all, I am practically engaged to Frederick."
"Doesn't mean a thing."
He started to walk away, and she looked after him. "Frederick has been difficult," she added.
When he said nothing, but started down the trail, she called after him, "And you're difficult, Mr. Carlin!"
She had no idea whether he heard her or not. She heard his footsteps on the trail, and then they faded, and she was alone. Wind stirred in the cedars, and there was no other sound for a long time.
The air was very clear. She looked north tip the wide valley toward the ranch they had left. Dancing heat waves cut off the view in the distance along the foot of the mountains.
Shalako ... it was a strange name, an exciting name. And he was an exciting man.
Exciting, yet strangely calming at such times as this, for he seemed so completely in command of the situation ... not that any person could be sure of coming out alive from such an ordeal, but she had the feeling that if they failed, if Shalako ever failed in such a situation as this, it would only be after everything possible had been done.
What there was to do, he would do; what there was to consider, he would have considered.
She had told him she was almost engaged to Frederick. Now why had she said that?
It was not true. There was a sort of understanding between them, but nothing had been said, not really. She knew that Frederick wanted to marry her, and she knew she had been considering it.
And now Shalako.
But how could she consider him at all? How would he look among her friends in London?
His weather-beaten features, his big, strong hands, that shaggy, powerful look he had about him.
No, he would not fit.
Or would he? Some of the soldiers from the Northwest Frontier of India were like that... not shaggy, however. But a haircut would take care of that.
But why consider his coming to her life? And what made her believe he would be happy there?
No, this was his country, this was his land, and it was a strong, beautiful land.
She inhaled deeply. There was something about the mountain air that made one want to inhale deeply ... it was like fresh, clear, cold water in the throat.
Buffalo Harris was the last man up the trail. At the last, when Harris waited to follow the others, he stood for a minute or two finishing a cigarette with Shalako.
"Along the east side of the mountains they rise up steep and high for several miles, so I'm going on up this canyon we're in and strike the head of Wolf Canyon. There's an old Indian trail running back toward the south east from there, and a fork in that will take me right into the park."
"You take care. I don't cotton to that general."
"He's a good man, Buff. Just out of his element, that's all. Don't worry about him."
He watched Buffalo start up the cliff, then picked up the roan's lead rope and mounted the stallion. It
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