With down-bent head she heard his voice hoarse from a
dust-dried throat: he had found the trail and near it a spring, the
cask he carried was full, it would last them for twelve hours. But the
way was heavy and the animals were too spent for a day's march in such
heat. They would not start till evening and would journey through the
night.
She heard his feet brushing toward her through the sage, and smelled
the dust and sweat upon him as he drew up beside her. She was forced
to raise her eyes and murmur a greeting. It was short and cold, and
Daddy John marveled at the ways of women, who welcomed a man from such
labors as if he had been to the creek and brought up a pail of water.
His face, gaunt and grooved with lines, made her heart swell with the
pity she had so freely given David, and the passion that had never been
his. There was no maternal softness in her now. The man beside her
was no helpless creature claiming her aid, but a conqueror upon whom
she leaned and in whom she gloried.
After he had eaten he drew a saddle back into the rock's shade, spread
a blanket and threw himself on it.
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