Wawataysee took the other blanket and the gun. The summer night was growing chilly here at the edge of the creek. They waded through the other stream. Renée’s head drooped on the man’s shoulder. She had forgotten her troubles in sleep. But presently he had to pause with his burden.
“Let us sit here and rest awhile. And if you could sleep an hour it would refresh you so much.”
Wawataysee leaned against a great tree bole that was like a column. The relaxation was grateful. What with fatigue and hunger, nature was overpowered and they all slept. When Wawataysee awoke the darkness startled her. The moon had gone down. She stretched out her hand in half terror.
“You have had a nice sleep,” began Valbonais cheerfully. “I, too, caught a nap. It must be near morning. Do you feel that you can go on?”
“Oh, yes! And the child? How strong and courageous you are!”
He stood Renée down and she roused. “Oh, where are we?” she cried in affright.
“Here, dear.” Wawataysee took her hand. “We are going to the Indian lodge, where we shall get some breakfast. Can you walk?”
“Why, yes. But I am tired. Will we soon be there? And, oh, I wish it was not so dark!”
Still, she went on without further complaint. Darker and darker it seemed. She gave her other hand to Valbonais. They both felt she lagged a little.
Suddenly a rosy light shot up in the east, and out of it great spires of crimson and gold that set the heavens aflame. The stars hung low in the northwest, and one by one dropped out of sight. Countless birds filled the air with melody, and every tree and shrub shook out its fragrance.