understand whether he meant the name of his visitor or something else,
but the menace connected with the word was clear enough.

Glen Naspa mounted her pony, and it was a graceful action that pleased
Shefford. He climbed a little stiffly into his own saddle. Then Nas
Ta Bega got up and pointed northward.

"Kayenta?" he inquired.

Shefford nodded and then they were off, with Glen Naspa in the lead.
They did not climb the trail which they had descended, but took one
leading to the right along the base of the slope. Shefford saw down
into the red wash that bisected the canyon floor. It was a sheer wall
of red clay or loam, a hundred feet high, and at the bottom ran a
swift, shallow stream of reddish water. Then for a time a high growth
of greasewood hid the surroundings from Shefford's sight. Presently
the trail led out into the open, and Shefford saw that he was at the
neck of a wonderful valley that gradually widened with great jagged
red peaks on the left and the black mesa, now a mountain, running away
to the right. He turned to find that the opening of the Sagi could no
longer be seen, and he was conscious of a strong desire to return and
explore that canyon.

Soon Glen Naspa put her pony to a long, easy, swinging canter and her
followers did likewise. As they got outward into the valley Shefford
lost the sense of being overshadowed and crowded by the nearness of
the huge walls and crags. The trail appeared level underfoot, but at
a distance it was seen to climb. Shefford found where it disappeared
over the foot of a slope that formed a graceful rising line up to the
cedared flank of the mesa. The valley floor, widening away to the