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find the last camp； where he could get rifle and ammunition； bake bread；
and rest up before taking again the trail of the rustlers。 He had reason
to believe that this canyon was the one where the fight on the Rim；
and later； on a bench of woodland below； had taken place。
Thereupon he arose and glided down under the spruces toward the level；
grassy open he could see between the trees。 And as he proceeded；
with the slow step and wary eye of an Indian； his mind was busy。
Queen had in his flight unerringly worked in the direction of this
canyon until he became lost in the fog； and upon regaining his bearings
he had made a wonderful and heroic effort to surmount the manzanita
slope and the Rim and find the rendezvous of his comrades。 But he had
failed up there on the ridge。 In thinking it over Jean arrived at a
conclusion that Queen； finding be could go no farther； had waited；
guns in hands； for his pursuer。 And he had died in this position。
Then by strange coincidence his comrades had happened to come across
him and； recognizing the situation； they had taken the shells from his
guns and propped him up with the idea of luring Jean on。 They had
arranged a cunning trick and ambush； which had all but snuffed out
the last of the Isbels。 Colter probably had been at the bottom of
this crafty plan。 Since the fight at the Isbel ranch； now seemingly
far back in the past； this man Colter had loomed up more and more as
a stronger and more dangerous antagonist then either Jorth or Daggs。
Before that he had been little known to any of the Isbel faction。
And it was Colter now who controlled the remnant of the gang and who
had Ellen Jorth in his possession。
The canyon wall above Jean； on the right； grew more rugged and loftier；
and the one on the left began to show wooded slopes and brakes； and at
last a wide expanse with a winding； willow border on the west and a long；
low； pine…dotted bench on the east。 It took several moments of study
for Jean to recognize the rugged bluff above this bench。 On up that
canyon several miles was the site where Queen had surprised Jean and
his comrades at their campfire。 Somewhere in this vicinity was the
hiding place of the rustlers。
Thereupon Jean proceeded with the utmost stealth； absolutely certain
that he would miss no sound； movement； sign； or anything unnatural to
the wild peace of the canyon。 And his first sense to register something
was his keen smell。 Sheep！ He was amazed to smell sheep。 There must
be a flock not far away。 Then from where he glided along under the
trees he saw down to open places in the willow brake and noticed sheep
tracks in the dark； muddy bank of the brook。 Next he heard faint tinkle
of bells； and at length； when he could see farther into the open
enlargement of the canyon； his surprised gaze fell upon an immense gray；
woolly patch that blotted out acres and acres of grass。 Thousands of
sheep were grazing there。 Jean knew there were several flocks of
Jorth's sheep on the mountain in the care of herders； but he had
never thought of them being so far west； more than twenty miles from
Chevelon Canyon。 His roving eyes could not descry any herders or dogs。
But he knew there must be dogs close to that immense flock。 And；
whatever his cunning； he could not hope to elude the scent and sight
of shepherd dogs。 It would be best to go back the way he bad come；
wait for darkness； then cross the canyon and climb out； and work around
to his objective point。 Turning at once； he started to glide back。
But almost immediately he was brought stock…still and thrilling by
the sound of hoofs。
Horses were coming in the direction he wished to take。 They were close。
His swift conclusion was that the men who had pursued him up on the Rim
had worked down into the canyon。 One circling glance showed him that
he had no sure covert near at hand。 It would not do to risk their
passing him there。 The border of woodland was narrow and not dense
enough for close inspection。 He was forced to turn back up the canyon；
in the hope of soon finding a hiding place or a break in the wall where
be could climb up。
Hugging the base of the wall； he slipped on； passing the point where
he had espied the sheep； and gliding on until he was stopped by a bend
in the dense line of willows。 It sheered to the west there and ran
close to the high wall。 Jean kept on until he was stooping under a
curling border of willow thicket； with branches slim and yellow and
masses of green foliage that brushed against the wall。 Suddenly he
encountered an abrupt corner of rock。 He rounded it； to discover that
it ran at right angles with the one he had just passed。 Peering up
through the willows； he ascertained that there was a narrow crack in
the main wall of the canyon。 It had been concealed by willows low down
and leaning spruces above。 A wild； hidden retreat！ Along the base of
the wall there were tracks of small animals。 The place was odorous；
like all dense thickets； but it was not dry。 Water ran through there
somewhere。 Jean drew easier breath。 All sounds except the rustling of
birds or mice in the willows had ceased。 The brake was pervaded by a
dreamy emptiness。 Jean decided to steal on a little farther； then wait
till he felt he might safely dare go back。
The golden…green gloom suddenly brightened。 Light showed ahead； and
parting the willows； he looked out into a narrow； winding canyon；
with an open； grassy； willow…streaked lane in the center and on
each side a thin strip of woodland。
His surprise was short lived。 A crashing of horses back of him in the
willows gave him a shock。 He ran out along the base of the wall； back
of the trees。 Like the strip of woodland in the main canyon； this one
was scant and had but little underbrush。 There were young spruces
growing with thick branches clear to the grass； and under these he
could have concealed himself。 But； with a certainty of sheep dogs
in the vicinity； he would not think of hiding except as a last resource。
These horsemen； whoever they were； were as likely to be sheep herders
as not。 Jean slackened his pace to look back。 He could not see any
moving objects； but he still heard horses； though not so close now。
Ahead of him this narrow gorge opened out like the neck of a bottle。
He would run on to the head of it and find a place to climb to the top。
Hurried and anxious as Jean was； he yet received an impression of
singular； wild nature of this side gorge。 It was a hidden； pine…fringed
crack in the rock…ribbed and canyon…cut tableland。 Above him the sky
seemed a winding stream of blue。 The walls were red and bulged out in
spruce…greened shelves。 From wall to wall was scarcely a distance of a
hundred feet。 Jumbles of rock obstructed his close holding to the wall。
He had to walk at the edge of the timber。 As he progressed； the gorge
widened into wilder； ruggeder aspect。 Through the trees ahead he saw
where the wall circled to meet the cliff on the left； forming an oval
depression； the nature of which he could not ascertain。 But it appeared
to be a small opening surrounded by dense thickets and the overhanging
walls。 Anxiety a