"Day is here," said the Indian.
Jim opened his eyes to see the bright red sun crimsoning the eastern hills, and streaming gloriously over the colored forests. He raised himself on his elbow to look around. Nell was still asleep. The blanket was tucked close to her chin. Her chestnut hair was tumbled like a schoolgirl's; she looked as fresh and sweet as the morning.
"Nell, Nell, wake up," said Jim, thinking the while how he would love to kiss those white eyelids.
Nell's eyes opened wide; a smile lay deep in their hazel shadows.
"Where a I? Oh, I remember," she cried, sitting up. "Oh, Jim, I had such a sweet dream. I was at home with mother and Kate. Oh, to wake and find it all a dream! I am fleeing for life. But, Jim, we are safe, are we not?"
"Another day, and we'll be safe."
"Let us fly," she cried, leaping up and shaking out her crumpled skirt. "Uncle, come!"
Mr. Wells lay quietly with his mild blue eyes smiling up at her. He neither moved nor spoke.
"Eat, drink," said the chief, opening the pack.
"What a beautiful place," exclaimed Nell, taking the bread and meat handed to her. "This is a lovely little glade. Look at those golden flowers, the red and purple leaves, the brown shining moss, and those lichen-covered stones. Why! Some one has camped here. See the little cave, the screens of plaited ferns, and the stone fireplace."