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----- {{frankp242.png}} || bred of the desert ||


which to the right led a narrow canyon. Then he
slowed down and, turning into the canyon, which
wound and twisted due north and south in the
bright moonlight, he continued at a slower pace.
But his heart no longer was in the task. The
weight on his back seemed heavier; there was a
painful swelling of his ankles. He knew the reason
for this pain. It had come from unwonted
contact with hard surfaces and frequent stepping
on loose stones in this strange haste with a strange
people in the hills. Yet he kept on, growing
steadily more weary, yet with pride ever to the
fore, until a faint light began to streak the overhead
sky, stealing cautiously down the ragged
walls of the canyon. Then he found himself pulled
into a walk.

He was facing a narrow defile that wound up
among the overhanging crags. Glad of the privilege
of resting, for a walk was a rest with him now,
he set forward into the uninviting pass. Up and
up he clambered, crowding narrowly past boulders,
rounding on slender ledges, up and ever up. As
he ascended he saw gray-white vales below, felt '
the stimulus of a rarer air, and at last found his
heart fluttering unpleasantly in the higher altitude.
Yet he held grimly to his task, and, when
broad daylight was streaming full upon him, he
found himself on a wide shelf of rock, a ledge
falling sheer on one side to unseen depths, towering
on the other to awe-inspiring heights. Here he
came to a halt. And then, so tired was he, so
faint with exhaustion, so racked of body and spirit,


[[242]]

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