the starlight.

"Nas Ta Bega, what did Withers mean when he said go to the Navajo for
a faith?" asked Shefford.

"He meant the desert is my mother. . . . Will you go with Nas Ta Bega
into the canyon and the mountains?"

"Indeed I will."

They unclasped hands and turned toward the trading-post.

"Nas Ta Bega, have you spoken my tongue to any other white man since
you returned to your home?" asked Shefford.

"No."

"Why do you--why are you different for me?"

The Indian maintained silence.

"Is it because of--of Glen Naspa?" inquired Shefford.

Nas Ta Bega stalked on, still silent, but Shefford divined that,
although his service to Glen Naspa would never be forgotten, still
it was not wholly responsible for the Indian's subtle sympathy.

"Bi Nai! The Navajo will call his white friend Bi Nai--brother," said
Nas Ta Bega, and he spoke haltingly, not as if words were hard to find,
but strange to speak. "I was stolen from my mother's hogan and taken