At noon she again prepared an elaborate meal. She served potatoes and grouse, hot biscuit with sugar syrup, and canned peaches, and coffee done to just the right color and aroma. He declared it wonderful, and they ate with repeated wishes that the Supervisor might turn up in time to share their feast; but he did not. Then Berrie said, firmly: “Now you must take a snooze, you look tired.”
He was, in truth, not only drowsy but lame and tired. Therefore, he yielded to her suggestion.
She covered him with blankets and put him away like a child. “Now you have a good sleep,” she said, tenderly. “I’ll call you when daddy comes.”
With a delicious sense of her protecting care he lay for a few moments listening to the drip of the water on the tent, then drifted away into peace and silence.
When he woke the ground was again covered with snow, and the girl was feeding the fire with wood which her own hands had supplied.
Hearing him stir, she turned and fixed her eyes upon him with clear, soft gaze. “How do you feel by now?” she asked.
“Quite made over,” he replied, rising alertly.
His cheer, however, was only pretense. He was greatly worried. “Something has happened to your father,” he said. “His horse has thrown him, or he has slipped and fallen.” His peace and exultation were gone. “How far is it down to the ranger station?”
“About twelve miles.”
“Don’t you think we’d better close camp and go down there? It is now three o’clock; we can walk it in five hours.”