Then Venters rested the horse and
used his eyes. Near at hand were a cow and a calf and several
yearlings, and farther out in the sage some straggling steers. He
caught a glimpse of coyotes skulking near the cattle. The slow
sweeping gaze of the rider failed to find other living things
within the field of sight. The sage about him was breast-high to
his horse, oversweet with its warm, fragrant breath, gray where
it waved to the light, darker where the wind left it still, and
beyond the wonderful haze-purple lent by distance. Far across
that wide waste began the slow lift of uplands through which
Deception Pass cut its tortuous many-canyoned way.
Venters raised the bridle of his horse and followed the broad
cattle trail. The crushed sage resembled the path of a monster
snake. In a few miles of travel he passed several cows and calves
that had escaped the drive. Then he stood on the last high bench
of the slope with the floor of the valley beneath. The opening of
the canyon showed in a break of the sage, and the cattle trail
paralleled it as far as he could see. That trail led to an
undiscovered point where Oldring drove cattle into the pass, and
many a rider who had followed it had never returned. Venters
satisfied himself that the rustlers had not deviated from their
usual course, and then he turned at right angles off the cattle
trail and made for the head of the pass.
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