“Grace, I simply cannot go another step,” she wailed.
Lighting a match, Grace peered into the face of her little companion, and she saw that Emma really was suffering from exhaustion.
“All right, little pard, we will camp right here. I wish I had a light. I lost my pocket lamp yesterday, but I am going to try to make a fire. You sit down and do the best you can while I feel about for the makings.”
After accumulating a few handfuls of twigs that would burn, Grace placed them beside Emma, and began feeling about for a suitable camping place. She found one under a projection of rock that had been worn out, perhaps by the high waters of centuries. There was shale and dirt under the rocky shelf, which Grace partly scooped out with her hands, and a few moments later a cheerful little fire was burning. By its light Grace cleared away as much more of the dirt and shale as possible, piling in green boughs in their place.
“Is it safe to have a fire?” questioned Emma apprehensively.
“No. We must have warmth or we shall freeze, chilled through as we already are. Get in under the rock and you will soon feel quite comfortable, I know.”
“Aren’t you coming in, too?” asked Emma.
“Yes, after I have laid in sufficient fuel for the night,” replied Grace. “As for the fire, you see I have laid it close to the rock, and I doubt if it could be seen from the top of the mountain.”
“I wish I could do things as you do, Loyalheart.”
“You could if you had to. There! I think we are fixed for the night, and now I will join you. Are you comfortable?” she asked, snuggling down beside Emma.