There was no reply and she turned to the east and rode in that
direction for a while, now and then calling "Bull!" her voice
sounding strange and uncanny in her own ears. In the distance a
coyote yapped and wailed.
She turned and rode west to a point beyond the cabin and then
back again, establishing a beat where she might hope to intercept
the returning Bull before he reached the danger of the ambush. At
intervals she called his name aloud, and presently she halted
frequently to listen for the coming of the lynchers.
It was a matchless Arizona night. The myriad stars blazing in
the blue-black vault of infinite space cast their radiance softly
upon vale and height, relieving the darkness with a gentle
luminosity that rendered distant objects discernible in mass, if
not in form
