st a nickel's worth of salt. Now, you lie down and sleep
while I cut these things up, and then I'll take a turn at it myself?"

He brought me one of the hides for a pillow, and I lay back as gently
as possible that I might not awaken Desiree. Her head and shoulders
rested against my body as she lay peacefully sleeping.

I was awakened by Harry's hand tugging at my arm. Rising on my elbows,
I demanded to know how long I had slept.

"Six or seven hours," said Harry. "I waited as long as I could. Keep
a lookout."

Desiree stirred uneasily, but seemed to be still asleep. I sat up,
rubbing my eyes. The heap of bodies had disappeared; no wonder Harry
was tired! I reproached myself for having slept so long.

Harry had arranged himself a bed that was really comfortable with the
skins of his kill.

"That is great stuff," I heard him murmur wearily; then all was still.

I sat motionless, stiff and numb, but afraid to move for fear of
disturbing Desiree.

Presently she stirred again, and, bending over her, I saw her eyes
slowly open. They met my own with a curious, steadfast gaze--she was
still half asleep.

"Is that you, Paul?" she murmured.

"Yes."

"I am glad. I seem to feel--what is it?"

"I don't know, Desiree. What do you mean?"

"Nothing--nothing. Oh. it feels so good--good--to have you hold me
like this."

"Yes?" I smiled.

"But, yes. Where is Harry?"

"Asleep. Are you hungry?"

"Yes--no. Not now. I don't know why. I want to talk. What has
happened?"

I told her of everything that had occurred since she had swooned; she
shuddered as memory returned, but forgot herself in my attempt at a
humorous description of Harry's valor as a hunter of food.

"You don't need to turn up your nose," I retorted to her expressive
grimace; "you ate some of the stuff yourself."

There was a silence; then suddenly Desiree's voice came:

"Paul--" She hesitated and stopped.

"Yes."

"What do you think of me?"

"Do you want a lengthy review?" I smiled.

What a woman she was! Under those circumstances, and amid those
surroundings, she was still Desiree Le Mire.

"Don't laugh at me," she said. "I want to know. I have never spoken
of what I did that time in the cavern--you know what I mean. I am
sorry now. I suppose you despise me."

"But you did nothing," I objected. "And you wouldn't. You were merely
amusing yourself."

She turned on me quickly with a flash of her old fire.

"Don't