But though the place was bald and open to the four winds save for a few detached outbuildings, Annie-Many-Ponies went away upon the mesa and no one saw her go.
She did not dare go to the corral for her horse.

The corral was in plain sight of the house, and the eyes of Wagalexa Conka were keen as the eye of the Sioux, his foster brothers.

He would see her there.

He would call: "Annie, come here!" and she would go, and would stand submissive before him, and would be glad that he noticed her; for she was born of the tribe where women obey their masters, and the heritage of centuries may not be lightly lain aside like an outgrown garment.

She felt that this was so; that although her heart might burn with resentment because he had forgotten and must be reminded by a strange white woman that the "squaw" was not present, still, if he called her she must go, because Wagalexa Conka was master there and the master must be obeyed.
Down the dry wash where Applehead had hunted for baling wire she went swiftly, with the straight-backed, free stride of the plainswoman who knows not the muscle-bondage of boned girdle.