As he toed the stirrup, hand on mane and pommel, Gale took one
more look in at the door. Nell stood in the gleam of light, her
hair shining, face like ashes, her eyes dark, her lips parted, her
arms outstretched. That sweet and tragic picture etched its
cruel outlines into Gale's heart. He waved his hand and then
fiercely leaped into the saddle.
Blanco Sol stepped out.
Before Gale stretched a line of moving horses, white against dark
shadows. He could not see the head of that column; he scarcely
heard a soft hoofbeat. A single star shone out of a rift in thin
clouds. There was no wind. The air was cold. The dark space
of desert seemed to yawn. To the left across the river flickered a
few campfires. The chill night, silent and mystical, seemed to
close in upon Gale; and he faced the wide, quivering, black level
with keen eyes and grim intent, and an awakening of that wild
rapture which came like a spell to him in the open desert.
XI
ACROSS CACTUS AND LAVA
BLANCO SOL showed no inclination to bend his head to the alfalfa
which swished softly about his legs. Gale felt the horse's
sensitive, almost human alertness. Sol knew as well as his master
the nature of that flight.
At the far corner of the field Yaqui halted, and slowly the line of
white horses merged into a compact mass. There was a trail here
leading down to the river. The campfires were so close that the
bright blazes could be seen in movement, and dark forms crossed
in front of them.
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