It developed, upon their return to the campfire circle, that everybody
had been in the joke; and they all derived hearty enjoyment from it.
"Reckon that makes you one of us," said Hutter, genially. "We've all had
our scares."
Carley wondered if she were not so constituted that such trickery
alienated her. Deep in her heart she resented being made to show
her cowardice. But then she realized that no one had really seen any
evidence of her state. It was fun to them.
Soon after this incident Hutter sounded what he called the roll-call for
bed. Following Flo's instructions, Carley sat on their bed, pulled off
her boots, folded coat and sweater at her head, and slid down under the
blankets. How strange and hard a bed! Yet Carley had the most delicious
sense of relief and rest she had ever experienced. She straightened out
on her back with a feeling that she had never before appreciated the
luxury of lying down.
Flo cuddled up to her in quite sisterly fashion, saying: "Now don't
cover your head. If it rains I'll wake and pull up the tarp. Good night,
Carley." And almost immediately she seemed to fall asleep.
For Carley, however, sleep did not soon come. She had too many aches;
the aftermath of her shock of fright abided with her; and the blackness
of night, the cold whip of wind over her face, and the unprotected
helplessness she felt in this novel bed, were too entirely new and
disturbing to be overcome at once. So she lay wide eyed, staring at the
dense gray shadow, at the flickering lights upon the cedar. At length
her mind formed a conclusion that this sort of thing might be worth the
hardship once in a lifetime, anyway. What a concession to Glenn's West!
In the secret seclusion of her mind she had to confess that if her
vanity had not been so assaulted and humiliated she might have enjoyed
herself more. It seemed impossible, however, to have thrills and
pleasures and exaltations in the face of discomfort, privation, and an
uneasy half-acknowledged fear. No woman could have either a good or a
profitable time when she was at her worst. Carley thought she would not
be averse to getting Flo Hutter to New York, into an atmosphere wholly
strange and difficult, and see how she met situation after situation
unfamiliar to her. And so Carley's mind drifted on until at last she
succumbed to drowsiness.
A voice pierced her dreams of home, of warmth and comfort. Something
sharp, cold, and fragrant was scratching her eyes. She opened them.
Glenn stood over her, pushing a sprig of cedar into her face.