Towards morning they rode more slowly. Their horses were growing jaded.
They talked in lower tones as they looked toward the east. It was as if
they feared they might waken some one too soon. There is something awesome
about the dawning of a new day, and especially when one has been sailing a
sea of silver all night. It is like coming back from an unreal world into
a sad, real one. Each was almost sorry that the night was over. The new
day might hold so much of hardship or relief, so much of trouble or
surprise; and this night had been perfect, a jewel cut to set in memory
with every facet flashing to the light. They did not like to get back to
reality from the converse they had held together. It was an experience for
each which would never be forgotten.
Once there came the distant sound of shots and shouts. The two shrank
nearer each other, and the man laid his strong hand protectingly on the
mane of the girl's horse; but he did not touch her hand. The lady of his
thoughts had sometimes let him hold her jewelled hand, and smiled with
drooping lashes when he fondled it; and, when she had tired of him, other
admirers might claim the same privilege. But this woman of the
wilderness--he would not even in his thoughts presume to touch her little
brown, firm hand. Somehow she had commanded his honor and respect from the
first minute, even before she shot the bird.
Once a bob-cat shot across their path but a few feet in front of them, and
later a kit-fox ran growling up with ruffled fur; but the girl's quick
shot soon put it to flight, and they passed on through the dawning morning
of the first real Sabbath day the girl had ever known.
"It is Sunday morning at home," said the man gravely as he watched the sun
lift its rosy head from the mist of mountain and valley outspread before
them. "Do you have such an institution out here?"
The girl grew white about the lips. "Awful things happen on Sunday," she
said with a shudder.
He felt a great pity rising in his heart for her, and strove to turn her
thoughts in other directions. Evidently there was a recent sorrow
connected with the Sabbath.
"You are tired," said he, "and the horses are tired. See! We ought to stop
and rest. The daylight has come, and nothing can hurt us. Here is a good
place, and sheltered. We can fasten the horses behind these bushes, and no
one will guess we are here."
She assented, and they dismounted. The man cut an opening into a clump of
thick growth with his knife, and there they fastened the weary horses,
well hidden from sight if any one chanced that way. The girl lay down a
few feet away in a spot almost entirely surrounded by sage-brush which had
reached an unusual height and made a fine hiding-place. Just outside the
entrance of this natural chamber the man lay down on a fragrant bed of
sage-brush. He had gathered enough for the girl first, and spread out the
old coat over it; and she had dropped asleep almost as soon as she lay
down. But, although his own bed of sage-brush was tolerably comfortable,
even to one accustomed all his life to the finest springs and hair
mattress that money could buy, and although the girl had insisted that he
must rest too, for he was weary and there was no need to watch, sleep
would not come to his eyelids.