At last he came to a conclusion and with stern set face he issued a few short orders to his companions. The canteens were refilled. Kut-le lifted Rhoda and the trail was taken to the west. Alchise would have relieved him of his burden, willingly, but Kut-le would not listen to it. Molly trotted anxiously by the young Apache's side, constantly moistening the girl's lips with water.
Rhoda was quite delirious now. She murmured and sometimes sobbed, trying to free herself from Kut-le's arms.
"I'm not sick!" she said, looking up into the Indian's face with unseeing eyes. "Don't let him see that I am sick!"
"No! No! Dear one!" answered Kut-le.
"Don't let him see I'm sick!" she sobbed. "He hurts me so!"
"No! No!" exclaimed Kut-le huskily. "Molly, give her a little more water!"
"Molly!" panted Rhoda, "you tell him how hard I worked--how I earned my way a little! And don't let him do anything for me!"