big man whose eyes had looked
so kindly into his, with a childlike feeling of rest and content. He
lay thus until the sun rose high in the heavens the next morning, when
he was awakened by the insistent neighing of his horse which had risen
almost to a cry of fear.

"Poor beast. Poor beast," he muttered. His vocal chords seemed to have
stiffened and dried, and his attempt to call out to reassure the
animal resulted only in a hoarse croak. He devoured the meat of the
little quail left in the jar and drank the few remaining drops of
broth, then crawled out to look after the needs of his horse before
making further search for food for himself. He gathered all his little
strength to hold the frantic creature, maddened with hunger, and
tethered him where he could graze for half an hour, then fetched him
water as the big man had done, a little at a time in the great
dipper.

After these efforts he rested, sitting in the doorway in the sun, and
then searched out a meal for himself. The big man's larder was well
stocked, and although Harry King did not appear to be a western man,
he was a good camper, and could bake a corn dodger or toss a flapjack
with a fair amount of skill. As he worked, everything seemed like a
dream to him. The murmuring of the trees far up the mountain side, the
distant roar of falling water that made him feel as if a little way
off he might find the sea, filled his senses with an impression of
unseen forces at work all about him, and the peculiar clearness and
lightness of the atmosphere made him feel as if he were swaying over
the ground and barely touching his feet to the earth, instead of
walking. He might indeed be in an enchanted land, were it not for his
hunger and the reality of his still hungry horse.

After eating, he again stretched himself on the earth and again slept
until his horse awakened him. It was well. The sun was setting in the
golden notch of the hills, and once more he set himself to the same
task of laboriously giving his horse water and tethering him where the
grass was lush and green, then preparing food for himself, then
sitting in the doorway and letting the peace of the place sink into
his soul.

The horror of his situation when the big man found him had made no
impression, for he had mercifully been unconscious and too stupefied
with weariness to realize it. He had even no idea of how he had come
to the cabin, or from which direction. Inertly he thought over it. A
trai