She wondered grimly whose blood it was, and stared at it strangely before her eyes went again worshipfully to the mountains which she loved and which she must leave and perhaps never see again as they looked from there, and from the ranch.
She must ride and ride until she was around on the other side of that last one that had the funny, pointed cone top like a big stone tepee.
On the other side was Ramon, and the priest, and the strange new life of which she was beginning to feel afraid.

There would be no more riding up to camera, laughing or sighing or frowning as Wagalexa Conka commanded her to do.

There would be no more shy greetings of the slim young woman in riding skirt--the friendship scenes and the black-browed anger, while Pete Lowry turned the camera and Luck stood beside him telling her just what she must do, and smiling at her when she did it well.
There would be Ramon, and the priest and the wide ring of shiny gold--what more?
The mountains, all pink and violet and smiling green and soft gray--the mountains hid the new life from her.

And she must ride around that last, sharp-pointed one, and come into the new life that was on the other side--and what if it should be bitter?
What if Ramon's love did not live beyond the wide ring of shiny gold?
She had seen it so, with other men and other maids.
No matter.

She had sworn the oath that she would go.