"Sleep now," he said to Fou-tan; "and when you are rested, I shall sleep."
The girl would have demurred, wishing him to sleep first; but even as she voiced her protest, exhaustion overcame her and she sank into a profound slumber. Seated with his back against the limestone wall of their retreat, King sought desperately to keep awake; but the monotonous sound of the running water, which drowned all other sounds, acted as a soporific, which, combined with outraged Nature's craving for rest, made the battle he was waging a difficult one. Twice he dozed and then, disgusted with himself, he arose and paced to and fro the length of their sanctuary, but the instant that he sat down again he was gone.
It was mid-afternoon when King awoke with a start. He had been the victim of a harrowing dream, so real that even as he awoke he grasped his spear and leaped to his feet, but there was no danger menacing. He listened intently, but the only sound came from the leaping waters of the stream.
Fou-tan opened her eyes and looked at him. "What is it?" she asked.
He grimaced in self-disgust. "I slept at my post," he said. "I have been asleep a long time, and I have just awakened."
"I am glad," she said with a smile. "I hope that you have slept for a long time."
"I have slept almost as long as you have, Fou-tan," he replied; "but suppose that they had come while I slept."
"They did not come, however," she reminded him.
"Well, right or wrong, we have both slept now," he said, "and my next business is to obtain food."
"There is plenty in the forest," she said.