When Anastacio called, he went with the rest, but lagged behind. The door of the Mission sala was open. The priests entered first, their heads scornfully erect; then the brethren, the soldiers, and servants. As Roldan and Adan were about to enter, the door was suddenly pulled to, coarse hands were clapped over their mouths, and, kicking, struggling, biting, scratching, they were borne swiftly across the courtyard and out of the gates. There they were set on their feet, and found themselves face to face with Anastacio. "Don't yell," he said. "There is no one to come to the rescue. We shall not hurt you unless you try to run away. Then I myself will beat you. Get on that horse, both of you." "I am tired," said Roldan, indifferently. "I want to sleep." "Sleep? Very well. Come here." He lifted him upon a large horse, then mounted behind and encircled him with one arm. "Go to sleep," he said; and cantered rapidly down the valley, followed by his thieving horde. VII When Roldan awoke he shivered slightly: the breath of winter was about him. He peered into the dusk, but could only gather that he was in a forest of huge trees on the side of a mountain. High above the wind was surging. He had a curious sense of travelling through the depths of the sea in a vacuum, the roar of suspended waters just over his head. Behind, between the giant trees, was a moving column of horses and men. "Where are we?" he asked Anastacio. "In the mountains, in a redwood forest. My pueblo is not far." "What mountains? What forest?" "That you will not know." "Where is Adan?" "On a stout mustang between two faithful followers of mine." "They are unnecessary. He would not leave me." "Perhaps not. Sometimes the white man lies and sometimes he is true." Roldan sat up; his tired head had rested against the shoulder of his captor. "Suppose I get behind you," he said. "It will be more comfortable for us both. That is, if you can trust me," with an attempt at sarcasm. "I trust you. Get behind." Roldan slipped down, sprang up, then strained his eyes once more into the depths of the forest. Nothing moved but that winding procession. Occasionally a coyote yapped or a wildcat yelled. Suddenly something fell against his face, pricking it gently. He looked over Anastacio's shoulder. They were passing into an open. The air was full of white, whirling particles. "It snows," said Anastacio; "but we are soon there."