Not even we ourselves could tell where we
had wandered, nor could we, using the best of our wits as we then had
them, do more than vaguely guess where our fellow travelers by that time
might be. Neither did we know distance nor direction of any settlement.
What geography we thought right was altogether wrong. The desert, the
wilderness, had us in its grip.
We sat, draggled and weary, at the shoulder of the little ravine,
haggard and worn by the long strain. Her skin garments, again wet
through, clung tight to her figure, uncomfortably. Now and again I could
see a tremor running through her body from the chill. Yet as I looked at
her I could not withhold my homage to her spirit. She was a splendid
creature, so my soul swore to me, thoroughbred as any in all the world.
Her chin was high, not drawn down in defeat. I caught sight of her small
ear, flat to the head, pink with cold, but the ear of a game creature.
Her nose, not aquiline, not masculine, still was not weak. Her chin, as
I remember I noted even then, was strong, but lean and not over-laden
with flesh. Her mouth, not thin-lipped and cold, yet not too loose and
easy, was now plaintive as it was sweet in its full, red Cupid bow.
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