I caught up the blanket from the ground
and pulled it around the girl's shoulders. I drew her tight to me as I
lay with my own back to the storm, and pulled the saddle over her head,
with this and my own body keeping out the tempest from her as much as I
could. There was no other fence for her, and but for this she might
perhaps have died; I do not know. I felt her strain at my arms first,
then settle back and sink her head under the saddle flap and cower close
like some little schoolfellow, all the curves of her body craving
shelter, comfort, warmth. She shivered terribly. I heard her gasp and
sob. Ah, how I pitied her that hour!
[Illustration: COLONEL MERIWEATHER EXPRESSES HIS THANKS FOR THE RESCUE
OF HIS DAUGHTER]
[Illustration: ORME TESTIFIES THAT HE HEARD JOHN AND THE COLONEL
QUARRELING]
Our fire was gone at the first sweep of the storm, which raged
thunderously by, with heavy feet, over the echoing floor of the world.
There came other fires, such blazes and explosions of pale balls of
electricity as I had never dreamed might be, with these detonations of
pent-up elemental wrath such as I never conceived might have existence
under any sky. Night, death, storm, the strength of the elements, all
the primeval factors of the world and life were upon us, testing us,
seeking to destroy us, beating upon us, freezing, choking, blinding us,
leaving us scarce animate.
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