"No, you don't!" said Joe. "And have your father down on us like a mad moose directly! You run along, or I'll go up to the shack myself, and fetch him back to bring you."
The threat was effective. Kitty turned abruptly, and ran back over the trail.
She ran until she was sure her footfalls had passed out of earshot. Then she stopped, and listened to make sure she was not followed. Satisfied of this, she crept into the underbrush, and began to make her way back, feeling her way with infinite patience over treacherous twigs and dry leaves, doubling and circling to find a way through the thickly springing stems, drawing her skirts close around her, and insinuating her body softly through the clustering leaves. Kitty had never hunted nor practised woodcraft; it was pure instinct that enabled her to make her way through the undergrowth as noiselessly as a lynx. These soft natures have a boldness of their own. She proceeded until through the interstices of the leaves, she could watch every move of the four men around their fire, and watch Ralph that they did him no further injury.
The half-breed had already laid himself down to sleep again. After the manner of his race, he held himself aloof, affecting a stolid unconcern with white men's matters. The three white men talked together low-voiced. It was as if the very magnitude of their good fortune had sobered them. Joe Mixer clapped his thigh and cried softly:
"Bowl of the Mountains! We're made for life! Millionaires, big-bugs, second to none! This means living like a lord, the real thing; steam yachts, private cars, horses, automobiles, jewelled women! And eating and drinking of the best as much as a man can hold—if it's handled right!" He licked his lips greedily, and shot a contemptuous and furtive glance at his two companions, the one weak-minded, the other a physical weakling. The look boded them no good.
Even in the prospect of such riches men must sleep, and one by one they wrapped themselves in their blankets, and lay down. In time they lay all four in a row, feet to the fire, looking in their wrappings like four corpses ready for burial in the sea.
Kitty drew even closer, the better to see how it was with Ralph. He hung for support on the ropes that bound him, his head fallen forward on his breast. A fresh terror attacked her at the sight of his limpness; she crept toward him until she could see his eyes wink in the firelight, and knew that he was at least conscious. Her heart was wrung by the sight. In reality Ralph had passed the extremity of pain, both physical and mental, and was sunk in a kind of lethargy. The effect of what had happened was to fill him with the same hopeless fatalism that Nahnya had. What would happen was bound to happen. The powers were against them and it was useless to struggle.
The brook made no noise where it emptied into the river; its distant brawling was reduced to a murmur here. In the stillness of the forest the breathing of the four sleepers became audible to Kitty. It gave her an idea that caused her heart to set up a beating like a frightened bird's. She listened and found she could distinguish the sounds made by all four, the stertorous snoring of the full-blooded butcher, the quick, gasping breaths of the ferret-man, the wooden snores of the witling, even the deep, slow breathing of the half-breed youth, who did not snore. It was unquestionable that they were all sleeping deeply. Kitty's tongue clave to her palate, and she nearly died with fright at what she was about to do, but she never hesitated. With infinite caution she made her way around through the bush to Ralph's tree, approaching it from behind. The beating of her heart was the most sound she made, and she could not control that.
Arrived at the tree at last, she crouched behind it, not daring to speak to him. Rising to her feet at last, she softly touched his elbow. Ralph started violently, but betrayed no sound. Kitty attacked the knots with shaking fingers. Ordinarily she could never have loosened them, but there was no question of failing now; it had to be done. In the end it was done. Ralph steadied himself against the tree, while she lowered the loosened coil to his feet.
Ralph sank to his knees. Instantly, aided by one hand, he started to drag himself toward the edge of the bank. The other hand trailed helplessly. Kitty tried to steer him in the other direction, but he shouldered her aside. She was obliged to follow him. Once Joe Mixer's snore broke off short; he muttered in his sleep and changed position. Kitty's heart turned over in her breast. Somehow they got down the bank to the sand below. Ralph made straight for his raft, which lay as he had left it, the paddle sticking between the logs.