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17
THEY MOVED UP SERPENTINE CANYON SINGLE file； crossing and recrossing the little creek that flowed in its bottom。 On both sides of the canyon； windblown sand had piled up against the stone cliffs in drifts； covered with a scattering of grass and desert flowers。 Here and there they passed juniper trees； stunted and coiled into fantastic shapes。 Elsewhere； blocks of sandstone had e loose from the canyon walls and spilled across its bottom； creating piles of rubble the horses had to pick through with care。 Canyon wrens flitted about in the shadows； and swallows darted out from beneath overhanging lips of sandstone； their mud nests like warts on the underside of the rock。 A few white clouds drifted past the canyon rims； a quarter mile above their heads。 The group followed silently behind Nora； lost in this strange new world。
Nora inhaled deeply。 The gentle rocking motion of Fiddlehead felt familiar and forting。 She glanced at the animal。 She was a twelve…year…old sorrel； clearly an experienced dude horse； wise and melancholy。 As they proceeded； she proved herself sure…footed in the rocks； putting her nose down and picking her way with the utmost attention to self…preservation。 While she was far from handsome； she was strong and sensible。 Except for Hurricane Deck； Sloane's horse pa？ero； and Swire's own two mounts； the horses were similar to Nora's： not very pretty； but solid ranch stock。 She approved of Swire's judgment； her experience growing up had given her a low opinion of expensive； overbred horses who looked great in the show ring but couldn't wait to kill themselves in the mountains。 She remembered her father buying and selling horses with his usual flair and bluster； turning away pampered animals； saying We don't want any of those country…club horses around here； do we； Nora？
She twisted in the saddle to look back at the other riders trailing behind her； pack horses in tow。 While some of the riders； notably Black and Holroyd； looked lumpy and unbalanced； the rest looked petent； particularly Sloane Goddard； who moved up and down the line with ease； checking cinches and giving suggestions。
And Smithback was a surprise。 Hurricane Deck was clearly a spirited horse； and there were a few tense moments at first while Smithback's oaths and imprecations filled the air。 But Smithback knew enough to show the horse who was boss； and he was now riding confidently。 He may be full of himself； she thought； but he looks pretty good on a horse。
〃Where'd you learn to ride？〃 she called back。
〃I spent a couple of years at a prep school in Arizona；〃 the writer answered。 〃I was a sickly； whining brat of a kid； and my parents thought it would make a man of me。 I arrived late the first term； and all the horses were taken except this one big old guy named Turpin。 He'd chewed on barbed wire at some point and torn his tongue； and it was always hanging out； this long pink disgusting thing。 So nobody wanted him。 But Turpin was the fastest horse at the school。 We'd race down the dry creekbeds or bush…bend through the desert； and Turpin always won。〃 He shook his head at the memory； chuckling。
Suddenly； the smile on his face was replaced with a look of shock。 〃What the hell？〃 He spun around。 Following his gaze； Nora saw Smithback's pack horse； Beetlebum； dart back。 A rope of saliva was dripping off Smithback's leg。
〃That damn horse just tried to bite me！〃 Smithback roared； full of indignation。 The pack horse looked back； his face a picture of surprised innocence。
〃That old Beetlebum；〃 said Swire； shaking his head affectionately。 〃He's sure got a sense of humor。〃
Smithback wiped his leg。 〃So I see。〃
After another half hour of uneventful riding Nora brought the group to a halt。 From an aluminum tube tied to her saddle； she removed the U。S。G。S。 topo onto which Holroyd had superimposed the radar data。 She examined it for a moment； then motioned him over。
〃Time for a GPS reading；〃 she said。 She knew that six miles up Serpentine Canyon they had to branch off into a smaller canyon； marked HARD TWIST on the map。 The trick would be identifying which of the endless parade of side canyons they were passing was Hard Twist。 Down on the canyon bottom； every bend looked the same。
Holroyd dug into his saddlebag and pulled out the GPS unit； a laptop into which he had downloaded all the navigation and waypoint data。 While Nora waited； he booted the puter； then began to tap at the keyboard。 After a few minutes he grimaced； then shook his head。
〃I was afraid of that；〃 he said。
Nora frowned。 〃Don't tell me it isn't powerful enough。〃
Holroyd laughed crookedly。 〃Powerful？ It uses a twenty…four…channel GPS reader with an infrared remote。 It can plot positions； geocode locations automatically； leave breadcrumb trails； everything。〃
〃Then what's the problem？ Broken already？〃
〃Not broken； just unable to get a fix。 It has to locate at least three geostationary satellites simultaneously to get a reading。 With these high canyon walls； it can't even pick up one。 See？〃
He turned the laptop toward Nora； and she nudged her horse closer。 A high…resolution overhead map of the Kaiparowits canyon system filled the screen。 Atop lay smaller windows containing magnified charts of Lake Powell； real…time passes； and data。 In one window； she could see a series of messages：
NMEA MODE ENABLED
ACQUIRING SATELLITES 。 。 。
SATELLITES ACQUIRED SO FAR： 0
3…D FIX UNAVAILABLE
LAT/LONG： N/A
ELEVATION： N/A
EPHEMERIS DATA UNAVAILABLE
RELOCATE UNIT AND REINITIALIZE
〃See this？〃 Holroyd pointed to a small window on the screen in which various red dots orbited in circular tracks。 〃Those are the available satellites。 Green means good reception； yellow means poor reception； and red means no reception。 They're all red。〃
〃Are we lost already？〃 called Black from behind； a note somewhere between apprehension and satisfaction in his voice。 Nora ignored him。
〃If you want a reading；〃 Holroyd said to Nora； 〃you'll have to go up top。〃
Nora glanced at the soaring red walls； streaked with desert varnish； and looked back at Holroyd。 〃You first。〃
Holroyd grinned； powered…down the laptop； and returned it to his saddlebag。 〃This is a great unit when it works。 But I guess way out here； even technology has its limits。〃
〃Want me to climb up and take the reading？〃 Sloane asked； riding forward with an easy smile。
Nora looked at her curiously。
〃I brought some gear；〃 Sloane said； lifting the top of a saddlebag and displaying a gear sling loaded with carabiners； friends； nuts； and pitons。 She gave the rock walls a calculating look。 〃I could make it in three pitches； maybe two。 Doesn't look too bad； I could probably free climb my way up。〃
〃Let's save that for when we really need it；〃 Nora said。 〃I'd rather not take the time right now。 Let's do things the old…fashioned way instead。 Dead reckoning。〃
〃It's your gig；〃 Sloane said good…humoredly。
〃Dead reckoning；〃 Smithback murmured。 〃Never did like the sound of that。〃
〃We may not have satellites；〃 Nora said。 〃But we've got maps。〃 Spreading Holroyd's map across her saddlehorn； she stared at it closely； estimating their approximate speed and travel time。 She marked a dot at their probable position； the date and time beside it。
〃Done a lot of this before？〃 Holroyd asked at her side。
Nora nodded。 〃All archaeologists have to be good at reading maps。 It's hell finding some of the remoter ruins。 And what makes it harder is this。〃 She pointed to a note in the corner of the map that read WARNING： DATA NOT FIELD…CHECKED。 〃Most of these maps are created from stereogrammatic images taken from the air。 Sometimes what you see from a plane is a lot different from what you see on foot。 As you can see； your radar image…which is absolutely accurate…doesn't always correspond to what's printed on the map。〃
〃Reassuring；〃 she heard Black mutter。
Replacing the map； Nora nudged her horse forward and they continued up the canyon。 The walls broadened and the stream diminished； in some places even disappearing for a while； leaving only a damp stretch of sand to mark its underground course。 Each time they passed a narrow side canyon； Nora would stop and mar