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Sometime in the afternoon she ith a clear head It was the first time in months that she had wakened without a headache She stared from the shade of the cottonwoods to the distant lavender haze of the desert There was not a sound in all the world Mysterious, rerief More terrible to her than her danger in Kut-le's hands,over her so long, was this sense of awful space, of barren nothingness hich the desert oppressed her Instinctively she turned to look for human companionship Kut-le and Alchise were not to be seen but Molly nodded beside Rhoda's blankets and the thin hag Cesca was curled in the grass near by, asleep

"You awake? Heap hungry?" asked Molly suddenly

Rhoda sat up, groaning at the torturing stiffness of her et 'eh brown hand between both her soft cold palms, "Molly, will you help ers up to Rhoda's sweet face Molly was a squaw, dirty and ignorant Rhoda was the delicate product of a highly cultivated civilization, egoistic, narroed, self-centered And yet Rhoda, looking into Molly's deep brown eyes, saw there that lientleness which is wo why, the white girl bowed her head on the squaw's fat shoulder and sobbed a little A strange look came into Molly's face She was childless and had worked fearfully to justify her existence to her tribe Few hands had touched hers in tenderness Few voices had appealed to her for sy arently

"You no cry!" she said "You no cry, little Sun-head, you no cry!"

"Molly, dear kind Molly, won't you help hter that a white o ho voice one uses to a sobbing child

"You no run 'way! Kut-le catch right off! Make it all harder for you!"

Rhoda shivered a little

"If I once get away, Kut-le never will catch ently

"How you run? No sabe how eat, how drink, how find the trail! Better stay with Molly"

"I would wait till I thought ere near a town Won't you help me? Dear, kind Molly, won't you help me?"