“Now we must go on. Renée, you must keep the blanket about you,” the elder said.
“But it is so warm. I am most smothered.”
“It will be cooler presently,” in a consoling tone.
“And I am so hungry!” she said, half crying.
They had eaten nothing since morning.
“We are all hungry. And if we can find those kindly Indians they will give us a feast.”
“I hope she is right.” Valbonais thought.
They walked briskly onward for a while. The moon came up and shed its silver radiance, setting the little stream with gems and showering the trees with her effulgent flood. But to-night they could not enjoy it—could hardly keep hope alive.
“I am so tired!” Renée began to cry in earnest and stopped short. The reaction had come and she shivered with a chill. Her slight frame was in a collapse.
“I will carry her,” said Valbonais. “We shall get along faster.”