The　fugitives　made　slow　progress。　　They　picked　a　cautious；　winding　way　to　and　fro　in　little　steps　here　and　there　along　the　many　twists　of　the　trail；　up　and　down　the　unavoidable　depressions；　round　and　round　the　holes。　　At　noon；　so　winding　back　upon　itself　had　been　their　course；　they　appeared　to　have　come　only　a　short　distance　up　the　lava　slope。
  It　was　rough　work　for　them；　it　was　terrible　work　for　the　horses。　Blanco　Diablo　refused　to　answer　to　the　power　of　the　Yaqui。　　He　balked；　he　plunged；　he　bit　and　kicked。　　He　had　to　be　pulled　and　beaten　over　many　places。　　Mercedes's　horse　almost　threw　her；　and　she　was　put　upon　Blanco　Sol。　　The　white　charger　snorted　a　protest；　then；　obedient　to　Gale's　stern　call；　patiently　lowered　his　noble　head　and　pawed　the　lava　for　a　footing　that　would　hold。
  The　lava　caused　Gale　toil　and　worry　and　pain；　but　he　hated　the　choyas。　　As　the　travel　progressed　this　species　of　cactus　increased　in　number　of　plants　and　in　size。　　Everywhere　the　red　lava　was　spotted　with　little　round　patches　of　glistening　frosty　white。　　And　under　every　bunch　of　choya；　along　and　in　the　trail；　were　the　discarded　joints；　like　little　frosty　pine　cones　covered　with　spines。　It　was　utterly　impossible　always　to　be　on　the　lookout　for　these；　and　when　Gale　stepped　on　one；　often　as　not　the　steel…like　thorns　pierced　leather　and　flesh。　　Gale　came　almost　to　believe　what　he　had　heard　claimed　by　desert　travelersthat　the　choya　was　alive　and　leaped　at　man　or　beast。　　Certain　it　was　when　Gale　passed　one；　if　he　did　not　put　all　attention　to　avoiding　it；　he　was　hooked　through　his　chaps　and　held　by　barbed　thorns。　　The　pain　was　almost　unendurable。　　It　was　like　no　other。　　It　burned；　stung；　beatalmost　seemed　to　freeze。　　It　made　useless　arm　or　leg。　It　made　him　bite　his　tongue　to　keep　from　crying　out。　It　made　the　sweat　roll　off　him。　　It　made　him　sick。
  Moreover；　bad　as　the　choya　was　for　man；　it　was　infinitely　worse　for　beast。　　A　jagged　stab　from　this　poisoned　cactus　was　the　only　thing　Blanco　Sol　could　not　stand。　　Many　times　that　day；　before　he　carried　Mercedes；　he　had　wildly　snorted；　and　then　stood　trembling　while　Gale　picked　broken　thorns　from　the　muscular　legs。　　But　after　Mercedes　had　been　put　upon　Sol　Gale　made　sure　no　choya　touched　him。
  The　afternoon　passed　like　the　morning；　in　ceaseless　winding　and　twisting　and　climbing　along　this　abandoned　trail。　　Gale　saw　many　waterholes；　mostly　dry；　some　containing　water；　all　of　them　catch…basins；　full　only　after　rainy　season。　　Little　ugly　bunched　bushes；　that　Gale　scarcely　recognized　as　mesquites；　grew　near　these　holes；　also　stunted　greasewood　and　prickly　pear。　　There　was　no　grass；　and　the　choya　alone　flourished　in　that　hard　soil。
  Darkness　overtook　the　party　as　they　unpacked　beside　a　pool　of　water　deep　under　an　overhanging　shelf　of　lava。　　It　had　been　a　hard　day。　The　horses　drank　their　fill；　and　then　stood　patiently　with　drooping　heads。　　Hunger　and　thirst　appeased；　and　a　warm　fire　cheered　the　weary　and　foot…sore　fugitives。　　Yaqui　said；　〃Sleep。〃　　And　so　another　night　passed。
  Upon　the　following　morning；　ten　miles　or　more　up　the　slow…ascending　lava　slope；　Gale's　attention　was　called　from　his　somber　search　for　the　less　rough　places　in　the　trail。
  〃Dick；　why　does　Yaqui　look　back？〃　asked　Mercedes。
  Gale　was　startled。
  〃Does　he？〃
  〃Every　little　while；〃　replied　Mercedes。
  Gale　was　in　the　rear　of　all　the　other　horses；　so　as　to　take；　for　Mercedes's　sake；　the　advantage　of　the　broken　trail。　　Yaqui　was　leading　Diablo；　winding　around　a　break。　　His　head　was　bent　as　he　stepped　slowly　and　unevenly　upon　the　lava。　　Gale　turned　to　look　back；　the　first　time　in　several　days。　　The　mighty　hollow　of　the　desert　below　seemed　wide　strip　of　redwide　strip　of　greenwide　strip　of　graystreaking　to　purple　peaks。　　It　was　all　too　vast；　too　mighty　to　grasp　any　little　details。　　He　thought；　of　course；　of　Rojas　in　certain　pursuit；　but　it　seemed　absurded　to　look　for　him。
  Yaqui　led　on；　and　Gale　often　glanced　up　from　his　task　to　watch　the　Indian。　　Presently　he　saw　him　stop；　turn；　and　look　back。　　Ladd　did　likewise；　and　then　Jim　and　Thorne。　　Gale　found　the　desire　irresistible。　　Thereafter　he　often　rested　Blanco　Sol；　and　looked　back　the　while。　　He　had　his　field…glass；　but　did　not　choose　to　use　it。
  〃Rojas　will　follow；〃　said　Mercedes。
  Gale　regarded　her　in　amaze。　　The　tone　of　her　voice　had　been　indefinable。　　If　there　were　fear　then　he　failed　to　detect　it。　　She　was　gazing　back　down　the　colored　slope；　and　something　about　her；　perhaps　the　steady；　falcon　gaze　of　her　magnificent　eyes；　reminded　him　of　Yaqui。
  Many　times　during　the　ensuing　hour　the　Indian　faced　about；　and　always　his　followers　did　likewise。　　It　was　high　noon；　with　the　sun　beating　hot　and　the　lava　radiating　heat；　when　Yaqui　halted　for　a　rest。　　The　place　selected　was　a　ridge　of　lava；　almost　a　promontory；　considering　its　outlook。　　The　horses　bunched　here　and　drooped　their　heads。　　The　rangers　were　about　to　slip　the　packs　and　remove　saddles　when　Yaqui　restrained　them。
  He　fixed　a　changeless；　gleaming　gaze　on　the　slow　descent；　but　did　not　seem　to　look　afar。
  Suddenly　he　uttered　his　strange　crythe　one　Gale　considered　involuntary；　or　else　significant　of　some　tribal　trait　or　feeling。　It　was　incomprehensible；　but　no　one　could　have　doubted　its　potency。　　Yaqui　pointed　down　the　lava　slope；　pointed　with　finger　and　arm　and　neck　and　headhis　whole　body　was　instinct　with　direction。　　His　whole　being　seemed　to　have　been　animated　and　then　frozen。　　His　posture　could　not　have　been　misunderstood；　yet　his　expression　had　not　altered。　　Gale　had　never　seen　the　Indian's　face　change　its　hard；　red…bronze　calm。　　It　was　the　color　and　the　flintiness　and　the　character　of　the　lava　at　his　feet。
  〃Shore　he　sees　somethin'；〃　said　Ladd。　　〃But　my　eyes　are　not　good。〃
  〃I　reckon　I　ain't　sure　of　mine；〃　replied　Jim。　　〃I'm　bothered　by　a　dim　movin'　streak　down　there。〃
  Thorne　gazed　eagerly　down　as　he　stood　beside　Mercedes；　who　sat　motionless　facing　the　slope。　　Gale　looked　and　looked　till　he　hurt　his　eyes。　　Then　he　took　his　glass　out　of　its　case　on　Sol's　saddle。
  There　appeared　to　be　nothing　upon　the　lava　but　the　innumerable　dots　of　choya　shining　in　the　sun。　　Gale　swept　his　glass　slowly　forward　and　back。　　Then　into　a　nearer　field　of　vision　crept　a　long　white…and…black　line　of　horses　and　men。　　Without　a　word　he　handed　the　glass　to　Ladd。　　The　ranger　used　it；　muttering　to　himself。
  〃They're　on　the　lava　fifteen　miles　down　in　an　air　line；〃　he　said；　presently。　　〃Jim；　shore　they're　twice　that　an'　more　accordin'　to　the　trail。〃
  Jim　had　his　look　and　replied：　　〃I　reckon　we're　a　day　an'　a　night　in　the　lead。〃
  〃Is　it　Rojas？〃　burst　out　Thorne；　with　set　jaw。
  〃Yes；　Thorne。　　It's　Rojas　and　a　dozen　men　or　more；〃　replied　Gale；　and　he　looked　up　at　Mercedes。
  She　was　transformed。　　She　might　have　been　a　medieval　princess　embodying　all　the　Spanish　power　and　passion　of　that　time；　breathing　revenge；　hate；　unquenchable　spirit　of　fire。　　If　her　beauty　had　been　wonderful　in　her　helpless　and　appealing　moments；　now；　when　she　looked　back　white…faced　and　flame…eyed；　it　was　transcendant。
  Gale　drew　a　long；　deep　breath。　　The　mood　which　had　presaged　pursuit；　strife；　blood　on　this　somber　desert；　returned　to　him　tenfold。　　He　saw　Thorne's　face　corded　by　black　veins；　and　his　teeth　exposed　like　those　of　a　snarling　wolf。　　These　rangers；　who　had　coolly　risked　death　many　times；　and　had　dealt　it　often；　were　white　as　no　fear　or　pain　could　have　made　them。　　Then；　on　the　moment；　Yaqui　raised　his　hand；　not　clenched　or　doubled　tight；　but　curled　rigid　like　an　eagle's　claw；　and　he　shook　it　in　a　strange；　slow　gesture　which　was　menacing　and　terrible。
  It　was　the　woman　that　called　to　the　depths　of　these　men。　　And　their　passion　to　kill　and　to　save　was　surpassed　only　by　the　wild　hate　which　was　yet　love；　the　unfathomable　emotion　of　a　peon　slave。　　Gale　marveled　at　it；　while　he　felt　his　whole　being　cold　and　tense；　as　he　turned　once　more　to　follow　in　the　tracks　of　his　leaders。　　The　fight　predicted　by　Belding　was　at　hand。　　What　a　fight　that　must　be！　　Rojas　was　traveling　light　and　fast。　　He　was　gaining。　He　had　bought　his　men　with　gold；　with　extravagant　promises；　perhaps　with　offers　of　the　body　and　blood　of　an　aristocrat　hateful　to　their　kind。　　Lastly；　there　was　the　wild；　desolate　environment；　a　tortured　wilderness　of　jagged　lava　and　poisoned　choya；　a　lonely；　fierce；　and　repellant　world；　a　red　stage　most　somberly　and　fittingly　colored　for　a　supreme　struggle　between　men。
  Yaqui　looked　back　no　more。　　Mercedes　looked　back　no　more。　　But　the　others　looked；　and　the　time　came　when　Gale　saw　the　creeping　line　of　pursuers　with　naked　eyes。
  A　level　line　above　marked　the　rim　of　the　plateau。　　Sand　began　to　show　in　the　little　lava　pits。　　On　and　upward　toiled　the　cavalcade；　still　very　slowly　advancing。　　At　last　Yaqui　reached　the　rim。　　He　stood　with　his　hand　on　Blanco　Diablo；　and　both　were　silhouetted　against　the　sky。　　That　was　the　outlook　for　a　Yaqui。　　And　his　great　horse；　dazzlingly　white　in　the　sunlight；　with　head　wildly　and　proudly　erect；　mane　and　tail　flying　in　the　wind；　made　a　magnificent　picture。　　The　others　toiled　on　and　upward；　and　at　last　Gale　led　Blanco　Sol　over　the　rim。　　Then　all　looked　down　the　red　slope。
  But　shadows　were　gathering　there　and　no　moving　line　could