When she looked again toward the far slopes next the mountains, a black speck
rolled into view, the nucleus of a little dust cloud. Her face brightened a
little; she turned abruptly and sought easy footing down that ridge, and
climbed hurriedly the longer rise beyond. Once or twice, when she was on high
ground, she glanced behind her uneasily, as does one whose mind holds a
certain consciousness of wrongdoing. She did not pause, even then, but hurried
on toward the dust cloud.
On the rim of a shallow, saucer-like basin that lay cunningly concealed until
one stood upon the very edge of it, Annie-Many-Ponies stopped again and stood
looking out from under her spread palm. Presently the dust cloud moved over
the crest of a ridge, and now that it was so much closer she saw clearly the
horseman loping abreast of the dust. Annie-Many-Ponies stood for another
moment watching, with that inscrutable half smile on her lips. She untied the
cerise silk kerchief which she wore knotted loosely around her slim neck,
waited until the horseman showed plainly in the distance and then, raising her
right hand high above her head, waved the scarf three times in slow, sweeping
half circles from right to left.
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