“It was silly of me to faint. But when I saw that dreadful thing leap–” She faltered, and lay shuddering. Fearful that she was about to swoon again, Blake slapped her hand between his palms with stinging force.
“You’re it!” he shouted. “The joke’s on you! Kitty jumped just the other way, and he won’t come back in a hurry with that fire to head him off. Jump up now, and we’ll do a jig on the strength of it.”
She attempted a smile, and a trace of color showed in her cheeks. With an idea that action would further her recovery, he drew her to a sitting position, stepped quickly behind, and, with his hands beneath her elbows, lifted her upright. But she was still too weak and giddy to stand alone. As he released his grip, she swayed and would have fallen had he not caught her arm.
“Steady!” he admonished. “Brace up; you’re all right.”
“I’m–I’m just a little dizzy,” she murmured, clinging to his shoulder. “It will pass in a minute. It’s so silly, but I’m that way–Tom, I–I think you are the bravest man–”
“Yes, yes–but that’s not the point. Leave go now, like a sensible girl. It’s about time to hit the trail.”
He drew himself free, and without a glance at her blushing face, began to gather up their scattered outfit. His hat lay where he had weighted it down with the cocoanut. He tossed the nut into the skin bag, and jammed the hat on his head, pulling the brim far down over his eyes. When he had fetched his club, he walked back past the girl, with his eyes averted.
“Come on,” he muttered.
The scarlet in the girl’s cheeks swept over her whole face in a burning wave, which ebbed slowly and left her colorless. Blake had started off without a backward glance. She gazed about with a bewildered look at the palms and the barren ridge and the fiery tidal wave of flame. Her gaze came back to Blake, and she followed him.
Within a short distance she found herself out of the sheltering lee of the ridge. The first wind gust almost overthrew her. She could never have walked against such a gale; but with the wind at her back she was buoyed up and borne along as though on wings. Her sole effort was to keep her foothold. Had it been their morning trip, she could have cried out with joy and skipped along before the gusts like a school-girl. Now she walked as soberly as the wind would permit, and took care not to lessen the distance between herself and Blake.