As it had not only stopped raining by this time, but the clouds had exhausted themselves and vanished from the strip of sky visible above their heads, they had no difficulty in starting a fire.
In the ruddy glow the yellow current, roaring and sweeping near by, took on the hue of blood, but our friends were too hungry, weary and anxious to be impressed by this.
Wah Shin had plenty of food cooked, but he very wisely thought that it would be more palatable if warmed over and a cup of good coffee added to the meal.
Despite the dangers that surrounded them and the woful anxiety about his father, that was never absent from Sam Willett's heart, he could not help being impressed by the wild weirdness of the situation.
He kept his feelings bravely to himself and expressed pleasure at the appetites shown by his friends, while trying to comfort them with a half-felt hope that they might be able to escape from the cañon on the morrow.
[CHAPTER VIII.—MR. WILLETT AND HANK TIMS.]
Mr. Willett and his friend and fellow prisoner, Hank Tims, were kept securely guarded in a tent situated in about the center of the straggling habitations that went to make up the camp at Hurley's Gulch.
Hank, who knew the country and the climate better than any white man in it, was well aware, from the continuence and violence of the storm, that it was spread over a wide area, and that the heavy rainfall and the consequent melting of snow on the crests of the higher mountains would flood all the streams flowing into the great Colorado.
He did not wish voluntarily to confess his fears to Mr. Willett, and yet he felt that it was only right that that gentleman should know what effect the storm might have on their own lives.
"Do you know what I have been thinking ever since night came and the rain has been dashing on the canvas over our heads, as if determined to get in?" said Mr. Willett, along toward morning, on the day following the departure of Ulna for Gold Cave Camp.