Darkness still lay over the river when they went again to their toil. Lounsbury, himself offered to cook breakfast and tried to convince himself the act entitled him to praise. In reality, he was only impatient to hasten their departure. Vosper packed the hungry horses, slyly depositing portions of their supplies and equipment in the evergreen thickets to lighten his own work. He further lightened the packs by putting a load on Mulvaney. And they climbed down to the water's edge to glance once more at the turbulent stream.
"No use of waiting any more," Lounsbury said at last.
"Of course not. Get on your horse." Then they rode away, these two worthy men, back toward the settlements. Some of the pack horses—particularly the yellow Baldy and his kind—moved eagerly when they saw that their masters had changed directions. But Vosper had to urge Mulvaney on with oaths and blows.
VIII
In Virginia's first moment of wakening she could not distinguish realities from dreams. All the experiences of the night before seemed for the moment only the adventures of a nightmare. But disillusionment came quickly. She opened her eyes to view the cabin walls, and the full dreadfulness of her situation swept her in an instant.
Her tears came first. She couldn't restrain them, and they were simply the natural expression of her fear and her loneliness and her distress. For long moments she sobbed bitterly, yet softly as she could. But Virginia was of good metal, and in the past few days she had acquired a certain measure of self-discipline. She began to struggle with her tears. They would waken Bill, she thought—and she had not forgotten his bravery and his toil of the night before. She conquered them at last, and, miserable and sick of heart, tried to go back to sleep.
Her muscles pained her, her throat was raw from the water, and when she tried to make herself comfortable her limbs were stiff and aching. But she knew she had to look her position in the face. She turned, pains shooting through her frame, and gazed about her.
The cabin, she could see, was rather larger than any of those in which they had camped on their journey. It was well-chinked and sturdy, and even had the luxury of a window. For the moment she didn't see Bill at all. She wondered if he had gone out. Then, moving nearer to the edge of her cot, she looked over intending to locate the clothes she had taken off the night before. Then she saw him, stretched on the floor in the farthest corner of the room.
He gave the impression of having dropped with exhaustion and fallen to sleep where he lay. She could see that he still wore the tattered overcoat he had found hanging on the wall, and the two blankets were still wrapped about him. He was paying for his magnificent efforts of the night before. Morning was vivid and full at the window, but he still lay in heavy slumber.