fort　and　inaccessibility。　　By　the　time　she　got　there；　the
  woolly　red…and…gray　blankets　were　saturated　with　sun…
  light；　and　she　sometimes　fell　asleep　as　soon　as　she　stretched
  her　body　on　their　warm　surfaces。　　She　used　to　wonder　at
  her　own　inactivity。　　She　could　lie　there　hour　after　hour　in
  the　sun　and　listen　to　the　strident　whir　of　the　big　locusts；
  and　to　the　light；　ironical　laughter　of　the　quaking　asps。　　All
  her　life　she　had　been　hurrying　and　sputtering；　as　if　she
  had　been　born　behind　time　and　had　been　trying　to　catch
  up。　　Now；　she　reflected；　as　she　drew　herself　out　long　upon
  the　rugs；　it　was　as　if　she　were　waiting　for　something　to
  catch　up　with　her。　　She　had　got　to　a　place　where　she　was
  out　of　the　stream　of　meaningless　activity　and　undirected
  effort。
  Here　she　could　lie　for　half　a　day　undistracted；　holding
  pleasant　and　incomplete　conceptions　in　her　mindalmost
  in　her　hands。　　They　were　scarcely　clear　enough　to　be　called
  ideas。　　They　had　something　to　do　with　fragrance　and　color
  and　sound；　but　almost　nothing　to　do　with　words。　　She　was
  singing　very　little　now；　but　a　song　would　go　through　her
  head　all　morning；　as　a　spring　keeps　welling　up；　and　it　was
  like　a　pleasant　sensation　indefinitely　prolonged。　　It　was
  much　more　like　a　sensation　than　like　an　idea；　or　an　act　of
  remembering。　　Music　had　never　come　to　her　in　that　sensu…
  ous　form　before。　　It　had　always　been　a　thing　to　be　struggled
  with；　had　always　brought　anxiety　and　exaltation　and　cha…
  grinnever　content　and　indolence。　　Thea　began　to　won…
  der　whether　people　could　not　utterly　lose　the　power　to
  work；　as　they　can　lose　their　voice　or　their　memory。　　She
  had　always　been　a　little　drudge；　hurrying　from　one　task　to
  anotheras　if　it　mattered！　　And　now　her　power　to　think
  seemed　converted　into　a　power　of　sustained　sensation。　　She
  could　become　a　mere　receptacle　for　heat；　or　become　a　color；
  like　the　bright　lizards　that　darted　about　on　the　hot　stones
  outside　her　door；　or　she　could　become　a　continuous　repeti…
  tion　of　sound；　like　the　cicadas。
  III
  THE　faculty　of　observation　was　never　highly　developed
  in　Thea　Kronborg。　　A　great　deal　escaped　her　eye　as
  she　passed　through　the　world。　　But　the　things　which　were
  for　her；　she　saw；　she　experienced　them　physically　and　re…
  membered　them　as　if　they　had　once　been　a　part　of　herself。
  The　roses　she　used　to　see　in　the　florists'　shops　in　Chicago
  were　merely　roses。　　But　when　she　thought　of　the　moon…
  flowers　that　grew　over　Mrs。　Tellamantez's　door；　it　was　as
  if　she　had　been　that　vine　and　had　opened　up　in　white　flow…
  ers　every　night。　　There　were　memories　of　light　on　the　sand
  hills；　of　masses　of　prickly…pear　blossoms　she　had　found　in
  the　desert　in　early　childhood；　of　the　late　afternoon　sun　pour…
  ing　through　the　grape　leaves　and　the　mint　bed　in　Mrs。
  Kohler's　garden；　which　she　would　never　lose。　　These　recol…
  lections　were　a　part　of　her　mind　and　personality。　　In　Chicago
  she　had　got　almost　nothing　that　went　into　her　subconscious
  self　and　took　root　there。　　But　here；　in　Panther　Canyon；
  there　were　again　things　which　seemed　destined　for　her。
  Panther　Canyon　was　the　home　of　innumerable　swallows。
  They　built　nests　in　the　wall　far　above　the　hollow　groove　in
  which　Thea's　own　rock　chamber　lay。　　They　seldom　ven…
  tured　above　the　rim　of　the　canyon；　to　the　flat；　wind…swept
  tableland。　　Their　world　was　the　blue　air…river　between　the
  canyon　walls。　　In　that　blue　gulf　the　arrow…shaped　birds
  swam　all　day　long；　with　only　an　occasional　movement　of
  the　wings。　　The　only　sad　thing　about　them　was　their　tim…
  idity；　the　way　in　which　they　lived　their　lives　between　the
  echoing　cliffs　and　never　dared　to　rise　out　of　the　shadow　of
  the　canyon　walls。　　As　they　swam　past　her　door；　Thea　often
  felt　how　easy　it　would　be　to　dream　one's　life　out　in　some
  cleft　in　the　world。
  From　the　ancient　dwelling　there　came　always　a　dignified；
  unobtrusive　sadness；　now　stronger；　now　fainter；like
  the　aromatic　smell　which　the　dwarf　cedars　gave　out　in　the
  sun；but　always　present；　a　part　of　the　air　one　breathed。
  At　night；　when　Thea　dreamed　about　the　canyon；or　in
  the　early　morning　when　she　hurried　toward　it；　anticipating
  it；her　conception　of　it　was　of　yellow　rocks　baking　in
  sunlight；　the　swallows；　the　cedar　smell；　and　that　peculiar
  sadnessa　voice　out　of　the　past；　not　very　loud；　that　went
  on　saying　a　few　simple　things　to　the　solitude　eternally。
  Standing　up　in　her　lodge；　Thea　could　with　her　thumb
  nail　dislodge　flakes　of　carbon　from　the　rock　roofthe
  cooking…smoke　of　the　Ancient　People。　　They　were　that
  near！　　A　timid；　nest…building　folk；　like　the　swallows。　　How
  often　Thea　remembered　Ray　Kennedy's　moralizing　about
  the　cliff　cities。　　He　used　to　say　that　he　never　felt　the　hard…
  ness　of　the　human　struggle　or　the　sadness　of　history　as　he
  felt　it　among　those　ruins。　　He　used　to　say；　too；　that　it　made
  one　feel　an　obligation　to　do　one's　best。　　On　the　first　day
  that　Thea　climbed　the　water　trail　she　began　to　have　intui…
  tions　about　the　women　who　had　worn　the　path；　and　who
  had　spent　so　great　a　part　of　their　lives　going　up　and　down
  it。　　She　found　herself　trying　to　walk　as　they　must　have
  walked；　with　a　feeling　in　her　feet　and　knees　and　loins　which
  she　had　never　known　before；which　must　have　come　up
  to　her　out　of　the　accustomed　dust　of　that　rocky　trail。　　She
  could　feel　the　weight　of　an　Indian　baby　hanging　to　her
  back　as　she　climbed。
  The　empty　houses；　among　which　she　wandered　in　the
  afternoon；　the　blanketed　one　in　which　she　lay　all　morning；
  were　haunted　by　certain　fears　and　desires；　feelings　about
  warmth　and　cold　and　water　and　physical　strength。　　It
  seemed　to　Thea　that　a　certain　understanding　of　those
  old　people　came　up　to　her　out　of　the　rock　shelf　on
  which　she　lay；　that　certain　feelings　were　transmitted　to　her；
  suggestions　that　were　simple；　insistent；　and　monotonous；
  like　the　beating　of　Indian　drums。　　They　were　not　expressi…
  ble　in　words；　but　seemed　rather　to　translate　themselves
  into　attitudes　of　body；　into　degrees　of　muscular　tension　or
  relaxation；　the　naked　strength　of　youth；　sharp　as　the　sun…
  shafts；　the　crouching　timorousness　of　age；　the　sullenness　of
  women　who　waited　for　their　captors。　　At　the　first　turning
  of　the　canyon　there　was　a　half…ruined　tower　of　yellow
  masonry；　a　watch…tower　upon　which　the　young　men　used
  to　entice　eagles　and　snare　them　with　nets。　　Sometimes
  for　a　whole　morning　Thea　could　see　the　coppery　breast
  and　shoulders　of　an　Indian　youth　there　against　the　sky；
  see　him　throw　the　net；　and　watch　the　struggle　with　the
  eagle。
  Old　Henry　Biltmer；　at　the　ranch；　had　been　a　great　deal
  among　the　Pueblo　Indians　who　are　the　descendants　of　the
  Cliff…Dwellers。　　After　supper　he　used　to　sit　and　smoke　his
  pipe　by　the　kitchen　stove　and　talk　to　Thea　about　them。
  He　had　never　found　any　one　before　who　was　interested　in
  his　ruins。　　Every　Sunday　the　old　man　prowled　about　in　the
  canyon；　and　he　had　come　to　know　a　good　deal　more　about
  it　than　he　could　account　for。　　He　had　gathered　up　a　whole
  chestful　of　Cliff…Dweller　relics　which　he　meant　to　take
  back　to　Germany　with　him　some　day。　　He　taught　Thea
  how　to　find　things　among　the　ruins：　grinding…stones；　and
  drills　and　needles　made　of　turkey…bones。　　There　were　frag…
  ments　of　pottery　everywhere。　　Old　Henry　explained　to　her
  that　the　Ancient　People　had　developed　masonry　and　pot…
  tery　far　beyond　any　other　crafts。　　After　they　had　made
  houses　for　themselves；　the　next　thing　was　to　house　the
  precious　water。　　He　explained　to　her　how　all　their　customs
  and　ceremonies　and　their　religion　went　back　to　water。　　The
  men　provided　the　food；　but　water　was　the　care　of　the　wo…
  men。　　The　stupid　women　carried　water　for　most　of　their
  lives；　the　cleverer　ones　made　the　vessels　to　hold　it。　　Their
  pottery　was　their　most　direct　appeal　to　water；　the　envelope
  and　sheath　of　the　precious　element　itself。　　The　strongest
  Indian　need　was　expressed　in　those　graceful　jars；　fashioned
  slowly　by　hand；　without　the　aid　of　a　wheel。
  When　Thea　took　her　bath　at　the　bottom　of　the　canyon；
  in　the　sunny　pool　behind　the　screen　of　cottonwoods；　she
  sometimes　felt　as　if　the　water　m