So, walking slowly, painfully, carrying what was left of their small stock of provisions, they started on in the dark. Up a ridge they went and into the thinning edge of the coming dawn; they picked their way among trees and rocks; little by little they were able to see in more detail what lay about them. Along the ridge they tramped northward. They were warmer now that they walked; or, rather, they were some degrees less cold. Gradually their paces grew swifter, as some of the stiffness went out of their bodies; gradually the shadows thinned; the stars paled, the east asserted itself above the other points of the compass, softly tinted. The sleeping world began to awake all about them; birds stirred with the first drowsy twitterings. The pallid eastern tints grew brighter; as from a wine-cup, life was spilled again upon the mountain tops. A bird began a clear-noted, joyous singing; all of a sudden the morning breeze seemed sweeter and softer; there came a brilliant, flaming glory in the sky which drew their eyes; all life forces which had been at ebb began to flow strongly once more; the sun thrust a gleaming golden edge up into the upper world, rolling majestically from the under world. Deveril looked into her eyes and laughed softly; her eyes smiled back into his.... She felt as though she had had a bad dream, but was awake now; as though last night her nerves had tricked her into wrongly judging her companion. Doubtings always flock in the night; joy is never more joyous than when breaking forth with the new day.
"It isn't so bad, after all," said Deveril. "Now, if we only had a pack-mule and a roll of blankets and a bit of canvas.... What more would you ask, Lynette Brooke, for a lark and a holiday to remember pleasantly when we grew to be doddering old folks?"
"As long as you are wishing," returned Lynette lightly, "why not place an order with the King of Ifs for a gun and some fishing-tackle and a frying-pan and some more coffee? And a couple of hats; an outing suit for me." She looked down at her suit; it was torn in numerous places; it was gummed and sticky here and there with the resin from pines; it caught upon every bush. "Then, you know, a needle and some thread; a dozen fresh eggs, bread, and butter...."
"Too much soft living has spoiled you!" he laughed.
"If so, I am in ideal training to get unspoiled in short order!" she laughed back.
And for all of this was the rising sun and the new, bright day responsible; for the ancient way of youth playing up to youth.
What was happening within both of them was a great nervous relaxation. They knew where Taggart and Gallup were, or at least were confident that there was no immediate danger of Taggart and Gallup overhauling them; they knew where Mexicali Joe was and where he was going. For the moment they were freed from that crushing sense of uncertainty welded to menace which had borne down upon them ever since they fled from Big Pine. And consequently joy of life sprang up as a spring leaps the instant that the weight is plucked from it.
"It's our lucky day!" said Deveril.
For the sun was scarcely up when a plump young rabbit hopped square into their path, and Deveril, with a lucky throw, killed it with a rock. And just as they were speaking of thirst, they came to a tiny trickle of water among the rocks; and while Lynette was boiling coffee over a tiny blaze, Deveril was preparing grilled cottontail for breakfast. Savory odors floating out through the woodlands. Lynette was singing softly:
"Merry it is in the good Greenwood!"