Miriam did not turn, but her bearing changed; her hands fell to her sides; she seemed bewildered.

Freeman sprang angrily to his feet: the picture became blurred; it flowed into streaks of vague color; it was gone.

There were only the brassy sky, and the painted crags quivering in the heat.
"That was not a mirage: it was a miracle," muttered the young man to himself.

"Forty miles at least, and it seemed scarcely three hundred yards! What does it mean ?" The sun sank behind the hills, and a transparent shadow filled the gorge.

Freeman, uneasy in mind, and unable to remain inactive, filled his canteen at the spring, and descended to the rugged trail at the bottom.