Several of the mares began weaving away from the herd, sniffing for water, looking for a spot where they could halt and rest. Suddenly the yells they had come to dread broke the silence and echoed along the canyon walls. Three riders came charging toward them from below. The chestnut screamed a warning. For a moment he hesitated. There was an enemy pack behind them, and now one faced them. With a snort and a toss of his head he sent the band up the far slope out of the canyon. The hunters raced whooping and yelling after the mares. Escape from the canyon did not bring freedom from the worrying red riders. The desert seemed full of them. After every run, when the big stallion thought he had slipped away from his pursuers, a new and fresh band would charge from cover on the jaded mares. In desperation the big horse headed down a deep canyon. The mares could not travel uphill any more. They could not move fast but the hunters did not seem anxious to close in and strike. They kept on the heels of the wild ones. Now there were a dozen of them and they kept up a savage yelling as they stayed close to the band. Up ahead Lady Ebony began to tire. She was not driven by frantic fear and she was eager to stop and rest. At first she had enjoyed the flight, but now she was thirsty and her sides were heaving. She galloped ahead, leaving the band behind. As she raced along she saw a side canyon. Its floor was solid rock, worn smooth by wind and water. She slipped into the narrow opening and halted behind a shoulder of rock. She lowered her head and stood blowing hard. She had left no tracks on the rocky floor. The wild horses galloped past the mouth of the side canyon. A great cloud of dust rolled up after them. Lady Ebony heard the Navajos go whooping past. She stood listening until the pounding of hoofs and the yelling died away. Shaking her head, she trotted up the narrow canyon. She craved water and she wanted to be alone, to lie down and rest. She headed north because to the north lay the tall-grass meadows with clear streams bubbling across them. She moved along steadily, keeping to the bottom of the canyon where she was hidden from sight of any black-eyed hunter who might be sitting on a rim high above. A black rain cloud billowed up above the rims to the north. It rolled down across the desert on the wings of a driving wind which raised clouds of dust and sand. At dusk it swept over the canyon where Lady Ebony was marching along steadily north. It drenched her and gave her needed drinking water, then it moved on down to where the chestnut was making his last stand.