The arm about her tightened, the horse stopped, and the voice went on
repeating the coyote call, clearly, mournfully. Rhoda ceased her
struggling for a moment and looked at the face so close to her own. In
the starlight only the eyes and the dim outline of the features were
visible, and the eyes were as dark and menacing to her as the desert
night that shut her in.

Mad with fear, Rhoda strained at the rigid arm. Kut-le dropped the
reins and held her struggling hands, ceased his calling and waited.
Off to the left came an answering call and Kut-le started the pony
rapidly toward the sound. In a few moments Rhoda saw a pair of
horsemen. Utterly exhausted, she sat in terror awaiting her fate.
Kut-le gave a low-voiced order. One of the riders immediately rode
forward, leading another horse. Kut-le slipped another blanket from
this and finished binding Rhoda to her saddle so securely that she
scarcely could move a finger. Then he mounted his horse, and he and
one of the Indians started off, leading Rhoda's horse between them and
leaving the third Indian standing silently behind them.

Rhoda was astride of the pony, half sitting, half lying along his neck.
The Indians put the horses to a trot and immediately the discomfort of
her position was made agony by the rough motion. But the pain cleared
her mind.

Her first thought was that she never would recover from the disgrace of
this episode. Following this thought came fury at the man who was so
outraging her. It only he would free her hands for a moment she would
choke him! Her anger would give her strength for that! Then she
fought against her fastenings. They held her all but motionless and
the sense of her helplessness brought back the fear panic. Utterly