By the time she was again at ease in her room she realized the cowboys had begun to fade out of the picture. Janey did not regret it, though she wondered at herself. Naturally, however, if a girl was going to be abducted against her will, and maltreated, and finally married, she must be quite interested in the man who was daring to do all this.
At lunch she was outspoken about her visit to Randolph's cave. The Bennets were much pleased. Plain indeed was it that they were fond of Randolph and proud of his archaeological work.
"Wal, if you liked that Sagi hole you shore ought to see Beckyshibeta," remarked Bennet.
"Beckyshibeta! My, that's a jawbreaker," replied Janey, with a laugh. "What and where is it?"
"Beckyshibeta means cow water. It's Navajo for a water hole. I never saw it when it wasn't muddy an' shore tastin' of cows. Reckon it's about sixty miles by trail, nearer across country. Wild rocky place where the Indians seldom go. Phil thinks they've a reason for avoiding it, same as in the case of Nonnezoshe, the great Rainbow Bridge. He has a notion there might be a buried pueblo at Beckyshibeta. There are cliff dwellin's still in good state of preservation, an' many ruins. We seldom recommend Beckyshibeta to our visitors. It's far off. The cowboys hate the rocky country because they have to pack hoss feed and water. An' shore there are places interestin' enough near at hand, an' comfortable for camp. But before you an' your father leave you want to see both Nonnezoshe an' Beckyshibeta."
"I'm sure I'd love to," responded Janey.
She did not meet the cowboys again that day until after supper when she walked out to see the sunset, and to look for her father. This was always an attractive hour at the post. Indians were riding up and departing; the picturesque cowboys, mostly through with work for the day, were lounging about on the bales of wool and blankets. The moment Janey arrived they became animated as one man. Janey did not take much notice of them, despite their transparent acts and words. Strolling a little way she halted at the hitching rail to watch the pageant in the gold-and-purple West.
"Mighty cool evenin'," remarked Mohave, in a voice that came clearly to Janey.
"Say, fellars, did anythin' hit you in the eye, kinda like a chunk of ice?" drawled Zoroaster.
"S-s-s-some of y-y-y-youse hombres has done s-s-s-somethin'," stuttered Tay-Tay, belligerently.
"Our gracious Senorita is in one of her grand moods," Diego said.
"Aw, you punchers are locoed," added Ray, scornfully. "Cain't you tell when to get off and walk?"
Janey moved on out of earshot of her loyal cavaliers. It was the first time she had not paid attention to one or all of them. What had happened to her? But she soothed both conscience and concern with former arguments.
In the west the bulge of desert waved black as ebony against the intense gold flare of sky. Above this belt, a broken reef of purple clouds appeared beaten upon by contending tides of silver and rose. Through a ragged rent the sinking sun sent shafts of radiant light down behind the horizon.
In the east the panorama was no less striking and beautiful. The desert sent its walls and domes and monuments of red rock far up into the sky of gorgeous pink and white clouds.
Janey drew a deep full breath. Yes, Arizona was awakening her to something splendid and compelling. How vast and free and windswept this colored desert! She had learned to recognize a faint fragrance of sage, which came only in a north breeze. It was sweet and cool now in her face. Then up over a near-by ridge appeared a black silhouette of an Indian and mustang, wild and lonely. Next the hum of a motorcar broke her absorption. No doubt it was the trader's Studebaker returning with her father.
"Look here, peaches," quizzically remarked her father, when they had gotten indoors. "Anyone would think I'd been absent a month. What's the bright idea?"
"Oh! Did I make such a fuss over you--as that?" asked Janey,
At lunch she was outspoken about her visit to Randolph's cave. The Bennets were much pleased. Plain indeed was it that they were fond of Randolph and proud of his archaeological work.
"Wal, if you liked that Sagi hole you shore ought to see Beckyshibeta," remarked Bennet.
"Beckyshibeta! My, that's a jawbreaker," replied Janey, with a laugh. "What and where is it?"
"Beckyshibeta means cow water. It's Navajo for a water hole. I never saw it when it wasn't muddy an' shore tastin' of cows. Reckon it's about sixty miles by trail, nearer across country. Wild rocky place where the Indians seldom go. Phil thinks they've a reason for avoiding it, same as in the case of Nonnezoshe, the great Rainbow Bridge. He has a notion there might be a buried pueblo at Beckyshibeta. There are cliff dwellin's still in good state of preservation, an' many ruins. We seldom recommend Beckyshibeta to our visitors. It's far off. The cowboys hate the rocky country because they have to pack hoss feed and water. An' shore there are places interestin' enough near at hand, an' comfortable for camp. But before you an' your father leave you want to see both Nonnezoshe an' Beckyshibeta."
"I'm sure I'd love to," responded Janey.
She did not meet the cowboys again that day until after supper when she walked out to see the sunset, and to look for her father. This was always an attractive hour at the post. Indians were riding up and departing; the picturesque cowboys, mostly through with work for the day, were lounging about on the bales of wool and blankets. The moment Janey arrived they became animated as one man. Janey did not take much notice of them, despite their transparent acts and words. Strolling a little way she halted at the hitching rail to watch the pageant in the gold-and-purple West.
"Mighty cool evenin'," remarked Mohave, in a voice that came clearly to Janey.
"Say, fellars, did anythin' hit you in the eye, kinda like a chunk of ice?" drawled Zoroaster.
"S-s-s-some of y-y-y-youse hombres has done s-s-s-somethin'," stuttered Tay-Tay, belligerently.
"Our gracious Senorita is in one of her grand moods," Diego said.
"Aw, you punchers are locoed," added Ray, scornfully. "Cain't you tell when to get off and walk?"
Janey moved on out of earshot of her loyal cavaliers. It was the first time she had not paid attention to one or all of them. What had happened to her? But she soothed both conscience and concern with former arguments.
In the west the bulge of desert waved black as ebony against the intense gold flare of sky. Above this belt, a broken reef of purple clouds appeared beaten upon by contending tides of silver and rose. Through a ragged rent the sinking sun sent shafts of radiant light down behind the horizon.
In the east the panorama was no less striking and beautiful. The desert sent its walls and domes and monuments of red rock far up into the sky of gorgeous pink and white clouds.
Janey drew a deep full breath. Yes, Arizona was awakening her to something splendid and compelling. How vast and free and windswept this colored desert! She had learned to recognize a faint fragrance of sage, which came only in a north breeze. It was sweet and cool now in her face. Then up over a near-by ridge appeared a black silhouette of an Indian and mustang, wild and lonely. Next the hum of a motorcar broke her absorption. No doubt it was the trader's Studebaker returning with her father.
"Look here, peaches," quizzically remarked her father, when they had gotten indoors. "Anyone would think I'd been absent a month. What's the bright idea?"
"Oh! Did I make such a fuss over you--as that?" asked Janey,
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