“It’s Gospel,” he assured her. “There are so many queer truths in Nature that I couldn’t begin to think up fabrications to compete with them. Besides I want you to know things as they really are.”
Flash came back without his prey. These little squirrels were hard to catch; had an exasperating way of vanishing in their holes at the very instant his jaws were but a foot from them, then chattering and scolding from beneath his very nose. He sprawled contentedly on the rock and dozed. Even in his sleep the significance of each sound penetrated his consciousness. The hum of their conversation did not disturb him. A red squirrel broke into a voluble chatter in a tree below the rim. One eye flickered open for an instant; closed again. A wheeling hawk screamed harshly overhead and drew only a twitching of one ear. Then he was suddenly alert, standing erect on the edge of the canyon wall, his hair bristling and a low snarl in his throat as he looked off across the hills.
From far away there had sounded the faint report of a rifle. He knew that this meant the presence of men. His thoughts were whirled back to these who lived at Two Ocean Pass; those who
