was perhaps fifty or sixty. He called 'Whoa!' again, and made what
haste he could after his horse.

A moment later a second horse appeared against the sky, following the
man, topping the ridge, passing on. In silhouette it appeared no
normal animal but some weird monstrosity, a misshapen body covered
everywhere with odd wart-like excrescences. Close by, these unique
growths resolved themselves into at least a score of canteens and
water-bottles of many shapes and sizes, strung together with bits of
rope. Undoubtedly the hand which had tied the other knots had
constructed these. This horse in turn sniffed and went forward with a
quickened pace.

Finally came the fourth figure of the procession. This was a girl.
Like the man, she was booted; like him, she carried a broad hat in her
hand. Here the similarity ended. She wore an outdoor costume, a
little thing appropriate enough for her environment. And yet it was
peculiarly appropriate to femininity. It disclosed the pleasing lines
of a pretty figure. Her fatigue seemed less than the man's. Her youth
was pronounced, assertive. She alone of the four paused more than an
instant upon the slight eminence; she put back her head and looked up
at the few stars that were shining; she listened to the hushed voice of
the desert. She drew a scarf away from her neck and let the cooling
air breathe upon her throat. The throat was round; no doubt it was
soft and white, and, like her whole small self, seductively feminine.

Having communed with the night, the girl withdrew her gaze from the sky
and hearkened to her companion. His voice, now remarkably eager and
young for a man of his years, came to her clearly through the clumps of
bushes.