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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

I saw her bend her face forward into her
hands.
"What shall we do?" she asked at length.
"I do not know," said I to her soberly; "but since there is water here
and a little shelter, it is my belief that we ought to stop here for the
night."
She looked out across the gray monotony that surrounded us, toward the
horizon now grown implacable and ominous. Her eyes were wide, and
evidently she was pondering matters in her mind. At last she turned to
me and held out her hands for me to assist her in dismounting.
"John Cowles, _of Virginia_," she said, "I am sorry we are lost."
I could make no answer, save to vow silently that if I lived she must be
returned safely to her home, unhurt body and soul. I dared not ponder on
conventions in a case so desperate as I knew ours yet might be. Silently
I unsaddled the horse and hobbled it securely as I might with the bridle
rein. Then I spread the saddle blanket for her to sit upon, and hurried
about for Plains fuel. Water we drank from my hat, and were somewhat
refreshed. Now we had food and water. We needed fire. But this, when I
came to fumble in my pockets, seemed at first impossible, for I found
not a match.


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