A lean, shaggy pony jumped at the sight of him, almost displacing a red long-haired blanket that covered an @Indian saddle. Quick thuds of hoofs in sand drew his attention to a corral made of peeled poles, and here he saw another pony.
Shefford heard subdued voices. He dismounted and walked to an open door. In the dark interior he dimly made out a high counter, a stairway, a pile of bags of flour, blankets, and silver-ornamented objects. However, the people he had heard were not in that part of the house. Around another corner of the octagon-shaped wall he found another open door, and through it saw goat-skins and a mound of dirty sheep-wool, black and brown and white. It was light in this part of the building.
