n. Remember what
Scarbreast said. Then rest. That's the secret. If you eat and rest you
will gain strength."

The edge of the wall was not a hundred paces from the camp; and when
Hare strolled out to it after supper, the sun had dipped the under
side of its red disc behind the desert. He watched it sink, while the
golden-red flood of light grew darker and darker. Thought seemed remote
from him then; he watched, and watched, until he saw the last spark of
fire die from the snow-slopes of Coconina. The desert became dimmer and
dimmer; the oasis lost its outline in a bottomless purple pit, except
for a faint light, like a star.

The bleating of sheep aroused him and he returned to camp. The fire was
still bright. Wolf slept close to Mescal's tent; Piute was not in sight;
and Naab had rolled himself in blankets. Crawling into his bed, Hare
stretched aching legs and lay still, as if he would never move again.
Tired as he was, the bleating of the sheep, the clear ring of the bell
on Black Bolly, and the faint tinkle of lighter bells on some of the
rams, drove away sleep for a while. Accompanied by the sough of the wind
through the cedars the music of the bells was sweet, and he listened
till he heard no more.

A thin coating of frost crackled on his bed when he awakened; and out
from under the shelter of the cedar all the ground was hoar-white. As
he slipped from his blankets the same strong smell of black sage
and juniper smote him, almost like a blow. His nostrils seemed glued
together by some rich piny pitch; and when he opened his lips to breathe
a sudden pain, as of a knife-thrust, pierced his lungs. The thought
following was as sharp as the pain. Pneumonia! What he had long
expected! He sank against the cedar, overcome by the shock. But he
rallied presently, for with the reestablishment of the old settled
bitterness, which had been forgotten in the interest of his situation,
he remembered that he had given up hope. Still, he could not get back
at once to his former resignation. He hated to acknowledge that the
wildness of this desert canyon country, and the spirit it sought to
instil in him, had wakened a desire to live. For it meant only more to
give up. And after one short instant of battle he was himself again.
He put his hand under his flannel shirt and felt of the soreness of his
lungs. He found it not at the apex of the right lung, always the one
sensitive spot, but all through his breast. Little panting breath