His suffering and imminent death, which she was
able to alleviate and retard somewhat, worked upon her pity and
compassion so that she forgot her own plight. Half the night she was
tending him, cooling his fever, holding him quiet. Well she realized
that but for her ministrations he would have died. At length he went
to sleep.

And Ellen, sitting beside him in the lonely, silent darkness of that
late hour, received again the intimation of nature, those vague and
nameless stirrings of her innermost being, those whisperings out of the
night and the forest and the sky. Something great would not let go of
her soul. She pondered.

Attention to the wounded man occupied Ellen; and soon she redoubled her
activities in this regard, finding in them something of protection
against Colter.

He had waylaid her as she went to a spring for water, and with a lunge
like that of a bear he had tried to embrace her. But Ellen had been
too quick.

"Wal, are y'u goin' away with me?" he demanded.

"No. I'll stick by my uncle," she replied.

That motive of hers seemed to obstruct his will. Ellen was keen to see
that Colter and his comrades were at a last stand and disintegrating
under a severe strain. Nerve and courage of the open and the wild they
possessed, but only in a limited degree. Colter seemed obsessed by his
passion for her, and though Ellen in her stubborn pride did not yet
fear him, she realized she ought to. After that incident she watched
closely, never leaving her uncle's bedside except when Colter was
absent. One or more of the men kept constant lookout somewhere down
the canyon.

Day after day passed on the wings of suspense, of watching, of
ministering to her uncle, of waiting for some hour that seemed fixed.

Colter was like a hound upon her trail. At every turn he was there to
importune her to run off with him, to frighten her with the menace of
the Isbels, to beg her to give herself to him. It came to pass that
the only relief she had was when she ate with the men or barred the
cabin door at night. Not much relief, however, was there in the shut
and barred door. With one thrust of his powerful arm Colter could have
caved it in. He knew this as well as Ellen. Still she did not have
the fear she should have had. There was her rifle beside her, and
though she did not allow her mind to run darkly on its possible use,
still the fact of its being there at hand somehow strengthened her.
Colter was a