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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

That is good."
We crept back from the top of the ridge, and I asked her to bring me the
saddle blanket while I held the horse. This I bound fast around the
horse's head.
"Why do you blind the poor fellow?" she inquired, "He cannot eat, he
will starve. Besides, we ought to be getting away from here as fast as
we can."
"I tie up his head so that he cannot see, or smell, and so fall to
neighing to the other horses," I explained to her. "As to getting away,
our trail would show plainly on this wet ground. All the trail we left
yesterday has been wiped out; so that here is our very safest place, if
they do not happen to run across the head of this little draw. Besides,
we can still eat; and besides again--" perhaps I staggered a little as I
stood.
"You are weak!" she exclaimed. "You are ill!"
"I must admit," said I, "that I could probably not travel far. If I
dared tell you to go on alone and leave me, I would command you to do
so."
Her face was pale. "What is wrong?" she asked. "Is it a fever? Is it
your wound again?"
"It is fever," I answered thickly. "My head is bad. I do not see
distinctly. If you please, I think I will lie down for a time.


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