These were still in their
colthood, however, and the saddle-horses merely flicked ears in their
direction and gave them no more heed.
"I'm glad you're sure of the country, up here on top," Luck said to Applehead
when they had climbed, by the twisting, sandy trail, to the sand dunes that
lay on the edge of the mesa and stretched vaguely away under the stars. To the
rim-rook line that separated this first mesa from the higher one beyond, Luck
himself knew the sand- hills well. But beyond the broken line of hills off to
the northwest he had never gone--and there lay the territory that belongs to
the Navajos, who are a tricky tribe and do not love the white people who buy
their rugs and blankets and, so claim the Navajos, steal their cattle and
their horses as well.
At the rim of lava rock they made a dry camp and lay down in what comfort they
could achieve, to doze and wait for daylight so that they could pick up the
trail of the red automobile.
CHAPTER XI. ALL THIS WAR-TALK ABOUT INJUNS
Over his second cup of coffee the pale eyes of Big Medicine goggled
thoughtfully at the forbidding wall of lava rock that stretched before them as
far as he could see to left or right.
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