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As he was about to turn back； he heard another sound： a moan； the soft slap of skin against skin。
Then the moon was out again。 Stealthily； he moved forward； looking carefully to both sides。 The sounds were clearer now； more regular。 He tightened his grip on the flashlight； grasped the trunk of a cottonwood； and peered through the curtain of moonlit leaves。
The first thing he saw was a tangle of clothes on the ground beyond。 For a moment； Holroyd thought somebody had been attacked； and their body dragged off。 Then his eyes moved farther。
On the soft sand beyond the cottonwoods lay Black。 His shirt was bunched up around his armpits； his bare legs were splayed； knees bent toward the sky。 His eyes were squeezed shut。 A small groan escaped him。 Above； Sloane was straddling Black's hips； her fingers spread wide against his chest； the sweat on her naked back glowing in the moonlight。 Holroyd leaned forward with an involuntary movement； staring in shock and fascination。 His face flushed； whether in embarrassment or shame at his own na？veté； he could not say。 Black grunted in bined effort and pleasure as he sheathed himself within her； thigh muscles straining。 Sloane leaned over him； her dark hair falling over her face； her breasts swaying heavily with each thrust。 Holroyd's eyes traveled slowly up her body。 She was staring at Black's face intently； with a look more of rapt attention than of pleasure。 There was something almost predatory in that look。 For a moment； he was reminded of a cat； playing with a mouse。
But that image dissolved as Sloane thrust downward to meet Black； again and again and again； riding him with relentless； merciless precision。
38
WITH A TUG ON THE GUIDE ROPE； NORA brought Arbuckles to a halt。 She stood beside the horse and looked down from the crest of the Devil's Backbone； into the valley the old Indian had called Chilbah。 She felt drained； sickened； by the climb back to the top； and Arbuckles was shaking and lathered with stress。 But they had made it： his hooves； once again freed of iron； had gripped the gritty sandstone。
The wind was blowing hard across the fin of rock and several ragged afternoon thunderheads were coalescing over the distant mountains to the north； but the valley itself remained a vast bowl of sunlight。
Smithback came to a stop beside her； white； silent。 〃So this is Chilbah； sinkhole of evil；〃 he said after a moment。 His tone was meant to be light； but his voice still held a quiver of stress from the terrifying ascent of the hogback ridge。
Nora did not reply immediately。 Instead； she knelt to reshoe the horses； letting a full sense of control return to her limbs。 Then she stood； dusted herself off； and reached into a saddlebag for her binoculars。 She scanned the bottomlands with them； looking for Swire and the horses。 The cottonwoods and swales of grass were a wele sight after the long； hot ride back from the sheep camp。 It was now half past one。 She located Swire alongside the creek； sitting on a rock； watching the remuda graze。 As she stared； she could see him looking up toward them。
〃People are evil；〃 she said at last； lowering the binoculars。 〃Landscapes are not。〃
〃Maybe so；〃 said Smithback。 〃But right from the beginning； I've felt there was something strange about the place。 Something that gave me the willies。〃
Nora glanced at the writer。 〃And I've always thought it was just me；〃 she replied。
They mounted their horses and moved forward； making the descent into the valley in silence。 Nosing their horses directly toward the grassy banks of the creek； they remained in their saddles while the animals waded in to drink； the water burbling around their legs。 From the corner of her eye； Nora could see Swire trotting up the creekbed toward them； riding bareback； without bridle or reins。
He pulled to a stop on the far side of the creek； looking from Nora to Smithback and back。 〃So you brought back both horses；〃 he said； looking at Nora with ill…disguised relief。 〃What about the sons of bitches who killed my horses…you catch them？〃
〃No；〃 said Nora。 〃The person you saw at the top of the ridge was an old Indian man camping upcountry。〃
A look of skepticism crossed Swire's face。 〃An old Indian man？ What the hell was he doing on top of the ridge？〃
〃He wanted to see who was in the valley；〃 Nora replied。 〃He said nobody from his village ever goes into this valley。〃
Swire sat silent a moment； his mouth working a lump of tobacco。 〃So you followed the wrong tracks；〃 he said at last。
〃We followed the only tracks up there。 The tracks of the man you saw。〃
In reply； Swire expertly shot a string of tobacco juice from his lips； forming a little brown crater in the nearby sand。
〃Roscoe；〃 Nora went on； careful to keep her tone even； 〃if you'd met this man； you'd realize he's no horse killer。〃
Swire's mouth continued working。 There was a long； strained silence as the two stared at each other。 Then Swire spat a second time。 〃Shit；〃 he said。 〃I ain't saying you're right。 But if you are； it means the bastards that killed my horses are still around。〃 Then； without another word； he spun his horse with invisible knee pressure and trotted back down the creek。
Nora watched his receding back。 Then she glanced over at the writer。 Smithback merely shrugged in return。
As they set off across the valley toward the dark slot canyon； Nora looked up。 The northern sky had grown lumpy with thunderheads。 She frowned； normally； the summer rains weren't due for another couple of weeks。 But with a sky like this； the rains could be upon them as early as that very afternoon。
She urged her horse into a trot toward the slot canyon。 Better get through before the system moves in； she thought。 Soon； they reached the opening。 They unsaddled their horses； wrapped and stowed the saddles； then turned the animals loose to find the rest of the herd。
It was the work of a long； wet； weary hour to toil through the slot canyon； the gear dead weight on their backs。 At last； Nora parted the hanging weeds and began walking down toward the camp。 Smithback fell in step beside her； breathing hard and shaking mud and quicksand from his legs。
Suddenly； Nora stopped short。 Something was wrong。 The camp was deserted； the fire untended and smoking。 Instinctively； she looked up the cliff face toward Quivira。 Although the city itself was hidden； she could hear the faint sounds of loud； hurried conversation。
Despite her weariness； she shrugged the pack from her back； jogged toward the base of the rope ladder； and climbed to the city。 As she clambered onto the bench； she saw Sloane and Black near the city's central plaza； talking animatedly。 On the far side of the plaza sat Bonarotti； legs crossed； watching them。
Sloane saw her approaching and broke away from Black。 〃Nora；〃 she said。 〃We've been vandalized。〃
Exhausted； Nora sank onto the retaining wall。 〃Tell me about it；〃 she said。
〃It must have happened during the night；〃 Sloane went on； taking a seat beside her。 〃At breakfast； Peter said he wanted to go up and check his equipment before getting to work。 I was going to tell him to take the day off； actually…he didn't look that well。 But he insisted。 Said he'd heard something during the night。 Anyway； next thing I know he was calling down from the top of the cliff。 So I went up after him。〃 She paused。 〃Our munications equipment； Nora 。 。 。 it's all been smashed to pieces。〃
Nora looked over at her。 Sloane was uncharacteristically unkempt； her eyes were red； her dark hair tousled。
〃Everything？〃 Nora asked。
Sloane nodded。 〃The transmitter； the paging network…everything but the weather receiver。 Guess they didn't think to look up in that tree。〃
〃Did anybody else see or hear anything？〃
Black glanced at Sloane； then turned back to Nora。 〃Nothing；〃 he said。
〃I've kept a sharp eye out all day；〃 Sloane said。 〃I haven't seen anybody； or anything。〃
〃What about Swire？〃
〃He went out to the horses before we learned about it。 I haven't had a chance to ask him。〃
Nora sighed deeply。 〃I want to talk to Peter about this。 Where is he now？〃
〃I don't know；〃 Sloane said。 〃He went down the ladder from the summit before I d