Shortly after midnight they struck a small mountain stream
up which they followed until in a natural cul-de-sac they came
upon its source and found their farther progress barred by
precipitous cliffs which rose above them, sheer and unscalable.
They had entered the little amphitheater through a narrow,
rocky pass in the bottom of which the tiny stream flowed, and
now, weak and tired, the mucker was forced to admit that he
could go no farther.
"Who'd o' t'ought dat I was such a sissy?" he exclaimed
disgustedly.
"I think that you are very wonderful, Mr. Byrne," replied
the girl. "Few men could have gone through what you have
today and been alive now."
The mucker made a deprecatory gesture.
"I suppose we gotta make de best of it," he said. "Anyhow,
dis ought to make a swell joint to defend."
Weak as he was he searched about for some soft grasses
which he threw in a pile beneath a stunted tree that grew well
back in the hollow.
"Here's yer downy," he said, with an attempt at jocularity.
"Now you'd better hit de hay, fer youse must be dead
fagged."
"Thanks!" replied the girl. "I AM nearly dead."
So tired was she that she was asleep almost as soon as she
had found a comfortable position in the thick mat of grass, so
that she gave no thought to the strange position in which
circumstance had placed her.
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