Here and there on the sloping floor the cattle lay in quiet groups, while a little way apart Buckskin and Silvertip browsed industriously.
At first they saw no sign of anything human in all the shadowy place. Arnold’s keen eyes swept the Pot from side to side, while Cattle Kate’s went slowly round the wall.
“That’s funny,” said the man, “Provine——”
“Look,” said Kate, “over toward the left—against the cliff.”
The light in the east struck first at the western face of the precipice, so that an object standing back against the perpendicular surface got its full benefit.
Arnold bent forward in his saddle and looked long at this object.
It was very still, a point of prominence in the shadows, and its very immobility gave it a certain grimness.
Then he touched his horse and rode forward.
“Good Lord!” he said as he pulled rein a distance from it, “Good Lord!”
For the object was Nance Allison—or what had been Nance Allison some few hours back.