"Aren't you sleeping?" she asked softly.

"No."

With trembling limbs, and eyes fixed on the darkness from whence had
come the scream, she stepped cautiously to the pile of wood, and threw
more limbs and bits of logs into the blaze. Then she seated herself
again, resolved that she would not fall asleep. But presently she
started to her feet in another panic at sight of a dark form moving in
the blackness. But it was only Tuesday, coming nearer to the fire, as
if he too had been alarmed by the wild beast's cry. She settled down
once more to her vigil, her rifle across her lap.

In spite of her resolution, her head sank to her knees again, and she
was aroused at length by the cold. It bit through the blankets and
clothing into the flesh of her limbs; sharp shivers ran up and down
her back; and she was very miserable. Rising stiffly, she walked a
while before the fire until she stumbled from weariness; then sat down
again, and nodded, only to be waked by the frost gnawing at her flesh.
Again and again she slept and woke in accentuated misery. But finally
she saw, with unspeakable relief, that the stars were paling in their
blue-black vault. She turned toward Thunder Mountain, and watched the
dim line of the cliff sharpening against the whitening sky. Yet all
was blackness in the gulch, and it seemed a long time before a soft
gray light began to steal in upon the red light of the fire, and a new
crispness came into the air. She waited until she could make out the
forms of trees across the valley, shrouded in thin morning mist,
before she threw the last few sticks of wood on the dying fire, and
crept to the side of Haig, where she lay down close beside him, with
her blankets wrapped around her. There she fell into a heavy sleep,
and did not waken until the sun, rising above Thunder Mountain, shone
warm in her face.

For some seconds she lay luxuriating in the warmth that seemed
incredible after that night of cold and terror. Then she moved softly,
raised herself on one elbow, and looked at Philip. He slept. His face
was haggard under his three days' growth of beard. She leaned over
him, and pressed her lips ever so lightly to his forehead. He did not
stir.

Tuesday grazed a few yards away; the vale lay green and peaceful in
the sunlight; and from the pine woods, where that hideous cry had
lifted in the night, came now only the gentle murmur of the breeze in
the massed foliage. By contrast with the chill horror of the n