Grunt, on his kaiila, had now taken his place at the head of the line, the packkaiila behind him.

I looked at the red-haired girl, first in the coffle, the burden' balanced withher small hands on her head. Grunt, I knew, had some special disposition in mindfor her. Yet, now, she, like the others, served as a mere pack animal, one ofthe beasts of his coffle, bearing his goods.

No white man, I recalled, was to bring more than two kaiila across the line ofthe wands. No group of white men was to bring more than ton kaiila across thatseemingly placid boundary.

The red-haired girl looked well in the coffle, moving in the grass, the chain onher neck, in the brief slave tunic. So, too, did the others. Slave girls arebeautiful, even those who must serve as mere beasts of burden. Grunt, Irecalled, in urging his coffle forward, had not struck the lead girl, his lovelyred-haired beast, with the lash, as he had several of the others. He had chosen,for some reason, to spare her its stroke. This was, I suspected, because be hadsomething more in mind for her than a burden and a place in the coffle. He had,clearly, something else in mind for her. He was apparently willing to take histime with her, and to bring her along easily and gently, at least for a time.

This was, perhaps, because she seemed already to understand that it would be herbusiness to please men, and that she was a slave. She would have to understandlater, of course, what it was to be a slave, fully. That would be time enoughfor her to feel the boot and the whip.

"It is here," Grunt had said.

I looked again ahead, out beyond that seemingly placid boundary, out beyond thewands.

I checked my weapons. Then I, too, urged my kaiila forward. In a few moments Iand my pack kaiila, too, had crossed the line of the wands.

"It is here," Grunt had said.

I pulled up the kaiila and looked behind me. Now I, too, had crossed thatboundary marked by the supple-feathered wands. I saw the feathers moving in thewind. Now I, too, had crossed the Ihanke, Now I, too, was within the Barrens.

I urged my kaiila forward again, after Grunt and the coffle. I did not wish tofall behind.

"You are aware, are you not," I asked Grunt, "That we are being followed?"

"Yes," he said.

It was toward the noon of our second day in the Barrens.

"I trust that their intentions are peaceful," I said.

"That is unlikely," he smiled.

"Are we not yet in the country of the Dust Legs?" I inquired. This was aperimeter tribe, which, on the whole, was favorably disposed towards whites.

Most trading was done with Dust Legs. Indeed, it was through the Dust Legs thatmost of the goods of the interior might reach civilization, the Dust Legs, ineffect, acting as agents, and intermediaries. Many tribes, apparently, would notdeal on a face-to-face basis with whites. This had to do with the hatred andsuspicion fostered by that tradition called the Memory. Too, it was oftendifficult to control their young men. Although small trading groups werewelcomed in the country of the Dust Legs, such groups seldom penetrated the moreinterior territories. Too many of them had failed to return. Grunt was unusualin having traded as far east as the country of the Fleer and the Yellow Knives.

Too, he had entered, at least once, the country of the Sleen and the Kaiila.

Some of these territories, apparently, had scarcely been penetrated since thedays of the first white explorers of the Barrens, men such as Boswell, Diaz,Bento, Hastings and Hogarthe.

"Yes," said Grunt.

"Why, then, do you conjecture that their intentions may be hostile?" I asked.

"They are not Dust Legs," he said.

We wheeled our kaiila about, and the coffle stopped. The girls put down theirburdens, gratefully. We observed the dust in the distance, some pasangs acrossthe prairie.

"They are, then," I speculated, "Fleer or Yellow Knives."

"No," he said.

"I do not understand," I said.

"Observe the dust," he said. "Its front is narrow, and it does not behave asthough raised by the wind."

"The wind direction, too," I said, "would be incorrect."

"Accordingly," said Grunt, "you conjecture that the dust is raised by the pawsof running kaiila."

"Yes," I said.

"In that you are correct," he said. "What else do you note?" he asked.

"I do not understand," I said. I was growing apprehensive. It was early in theday. I had little doubt but what the distant riders could overtake us, andeasily, before nightfall.

"It is so obvious," said Grant, "that you have noted it, but have not consideredits significance."

"What?" I asked.

"You can detect that dust," he said.

"Yes," I said, "of course."

"Does that not seem to you of interest?" he asked.

"I do not understand," I said.

"To raise dust like that, in this terrain," said Grunt, "you must ride acrossdraws, rather than avoid them, and you must ride in a cluster, where the dustwill rise, cloudlike, rather than rise and fall, in a narrow line, swiftlydissipated by the wind."

"What are you telling me?" I asked.

Grunt grinned. "If we were being followed by red savages," he said, "I do notthink that you, with your present level of skills, would be aware of it"

"I do not understand," I said.

"That dust," he said, "does not rise from the paws of the kaiila of Dust Legs,nor of Yellow Knives nor Fleer. It is not raised, at all, by the kaiila of redsavages. They would not ride so openly, so carelessly, so stupidly. They wouldavoid, where possible, grassless, dry areas, and they would ride at intervals,in single file. This arrangement not only obscures their numbers but lowers andnarrows the dust line."

"White men, then, follow us," I said.

"I thought they would," said Grunt.

"They cannot be white men," I said. "Observe the front of dust. That must beraised by fifteen or twenty kaiila."

"True," smiled Grunt. "They are fools."

I swallowed, hard. A law, imposed on white men entering their lands by redsavages, had been violated.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"I have had trouble with them before," smiled Grunt. "I have been waiting forthem."

"Who are they?" I asked.

"They want you," he said. "I thought they would follow this time. You are thebait."

"I? ' I asked.

"You came with me of your own free will, did you not?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, irritably.

"Accordingly," he grinned, "you cannot blame me."

"I am not interested in blaming anyone," I said. "I would just like to know whatis going on."

"They will also be interested in the second and third girls," he said.

I looked to Ginger and Evelyn, lying in the grass, exhausted, their burdensbeside them.

"They are the Hobarts," I said, "and the men from the Bar Ina.

"Yes' said Grunt.

"You said they would not make pleasant enemies," I said.

"They will not," he said.

"We cannot outrun them with the girls," I said. "We must make a stand." I lookedabout, swiftly, for high ground or shelter.

"No," said Grunt.

"What, then, are we to do? ' I asked.

"We shall continue on, as we were," said Grunt. "We shall not even suggest, byour behavior, that we are aware of their approach."

"I do not understand," I said.

"To be sure," said Grunt, "we should waste little time." He then rode his kaiilaabout the coffle of girls, cracking his whip, viciously. Several cried out infear. They had already felt that whip, through the thin brown cloth of theirslave tunics or across the backs of their legs. "Hei! Hei!" called Grunt. "Onyour feet, you stupid sluts, you luscious beasts! Up! Up! Burdens up! Burdensup! Have we all day to dally? No, my luscious beasts, no! Burdens up! Burdensup!" The girls scrambled to their feet, struggling to lift their burdens. Thewhip cracked again and a girl cried out with pain, one more tardy than the rest.