Once again on the road David and Susan stood looking at one another.
Each was pale and short of breath, and it was difficult for the young
girl to force her stiffened lips into a smile. The sunset struck with
fierce brilliancy across the endless plain, and against it, the Indians
bending low, fled in a streak of broken color. In the other direction
Leff's running figure sped toward the camp. From the distance a rifle
shot again sundered the quiet. After silence had reclosed over the
rift a puff of smoke rose in the air. They knew now it was Daddy John,
fearing they had lost the way, showing them the location of the camp.
Spontaneously, without words, they joined hands and started to where
the trail of smoke still hung, dissolving to a thread. The fleeing
figure of Leff brought no comments to their lips. They did not think
about him, his cowardice was as unimportant to them in their mutual
engrossment as his body was to the indifferent self-sufficiency of the
landscape. They knew he was hastening that he might be first in the
camp to tell his own story and set himself right with the others before
they came.
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