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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

As luck
would have it, some sparks still smoldered in the tow, and thus I was
able once more to nurse up a tiny flame. I never knew before how
comforting a fire might be. So now again we ate, and once more, as the
hours advanced, we felt strength coming to us. Yet, in spite of the
food, I was obliged to admit a strange aching in my head, and a hot
fever burning in my bones.
"See the poor horse," she said, and pointed to our single steed, humped
up in the wind, one hip high, his head low, all dejection.
"He must eat," said I, and so started to loosen his hobble. Thus engaged
I thought to push on toward the top of the next ridge to see what might
be beyond. What I saw was the worst thing that could have met my eyes. I
sank down almost in despair.
There, on a flat valley nearly a mile away in its slow descent, stood
the peaked tops of more than a score of Indian tepees. Horses were
scattered all about. From the tops of the lodges little dribbles of
smoke were coming. The wet of the morning kept the occupants within, but
here and there a robed figure stalked among the horses.
I gazed through the fringe of grasses at the top of the ridge, feeling
that now indeed our cup of danger well-nigh was full.


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