So much loveliness was like a knife in Sam's breast. The pain surprised him. It was as if nature had rested him with sleep only to enable him to suffer more keenly.
"What's the use of it if a man must be alone!" his heart cried. "No beauty, no happiness, no peace ever for me! I want her! I want her! I want her!"
Terrified by the trend of his own thoughts, he turned inside and shook Ed Chaney by the shoulder. Ed, with many a snort and grunt, slowly came back to consciousness.
"What's the matter?" he demanded. "The horses—wolves?"
"No, everything is all right," said Sam.
"What's the matter, then?"
"Would you mind staying awake a little?" begged Sam. "I—I can't sleep. Got the horrors, I guess."
"Sure thing!" said Ed. He took "horrors" quite as a matter of course. He was a comfortable soul. He crept to the door and looked out, gradually yawning himself into complete wakefulness.
"God! what a night!" he said simply. "The moon is like a lady coming down to bathe!"
"I hate it!" cried Sam shakily. "Close the flaps."