"I
wish I'd never seen the accursed country."
"Will you go feed the team, or shall I?" Bailey quietly interrupted.
"I'll go." And he went out into the storm with savage resolution, while
Bailey prepared supper.
"The storm is sure to end to-night," he said, as they were preparing for
sleep. As before, Blanche lay down upon the bed, Rivers took the bunk,
and Bailey camped upon the floor, content to see his partner well
bestowed.
Blanche, unable to sleep, lay for a long time listening to the storm,
thinking disconnectedly on the past and the morrow. The strain upon her
was twisting her toward insanity. The never-resting wind appalled her.
It was like the iron resolution of the two men. She saw no end to this
elemental strife. It was the cyclone of July frozen into snow, only more
relentless, more persistent--a tornado of frost. It filled her with such
awe as she had never felt before. It seemed as if she _must not
sleep_--that she must keep awake for the sake of the little heart of
which she had been made the guardian.
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