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TJJE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
clearly by the steadfast flare of a mission.
Loma, the maid of the open, knew the peril that lay ahead of them, and had brought a canteen of water. Slie knew that by traveling in the cool of the night they could reach the edge of the burning desert and get beyond the immediate danger from her people. The white squaw would lie down and sleep, so Loma set her upon the horse and bade her do whatever she chose.
fathers. The cavalcade passed on, scarce giving more than a passing glance. She found the babe and its mother asleep amid the bones and grave-clothes of a chief of a past generation. She left them there to rest, while she lay down beneath the welcome shade, the shadow of the dead seeming to have truly fallen upon her soul.
In a few hours they set out again upon their sun-baked journey, tho
JOHN V^ENTV^ORTH SURVIVES
Daylight found them all east upon the ground from sheer exhaustion, and still a half-day's march from the desert doorway. The first thing her eyes discerned was a thin line of Indian horsemen slowly making their way westward, drowsy from the bloodshed of their white foe.
Nearby was a burial scaffold, and into this she lifted the frightened woman of water and the babe that was his. Then, still wearing the clothes of the dead brave, she made as if she had paused to make fitting orisons to the lofty souls of her
their hearts were filled with the darkness of a stormy night. At dusk they came upon the desert, its gleaming sands striking fire to the eyes and flesh like a jagged flint.
Loma paused and gazed steadfastly at the woman with the soul of water. Must she pass thru the underworld and something worse than her tribe's torture for this pale creature? The cry of the babe suddenly broke thru her rebellious thoughts and scattered them to the hot winds that blew from over the desert. She gave the babe a few drops of the meager supply of