at "the Crossing," the awful spectacle of the three half-bred Indian
children who played before the cabin of a fellow miner and townsman.
Thank Heaven, the Eagle's Nest on Table Mountain should never be pointed
at from the valley as another--

A heavy hand upon his arm brought him trembling to his feet. He turned,
and met the half-anxious, half-contemptuous glance of the doctor.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said dryly; "but it's about time you or
somebody else put in an appearance at that cabin. Luckily for HER, she's
one woman in a thousand; has had her wits about her better than some
folks I know, and has left me little to do but make her comfortable. But
she's gone through too much,--fought her little fight too gallantly,--is
altogether too much of a trump to be played off upon now. So rise up
out of that, young man, pick up your scattered faculties, and fetch a
woman--some sensible creature of her own sex--to look after her; for,
without wishing to be personal, I'm d----d if I trust her to the likes
of you."

There was no mistaking Dr. Duchesne' s voice and manner; and Rand
was affected by it, as most people were throughout the valley of the
Stanislaus. But he turned upon him his frank and boyish face, and said
simply, "But I don't know any woman, or where to get one."

The doctor looked at him again. "Well, I'll find you some one," he said,
softening.

"Thank you!" said Rand.

The doctor was disappearing. With an effort Rand recalled him. "One