The Indian's next move was to place his saddle, which he evidently
meant to use for a pillow. Then he spread a goat-skin on the ground,
lay down upon it, with his back to the fire, and, pulling a long-
haired saddle-blanket over his shoulders, he relaxed and became
motionless. His sister, Glen Naspa, did likewise, except that she
stayed farther away from the fire, and she had a larger blanket,
which covered her well. It appeared to Shefford that they went to
sleep at once.

Shefford felt as tired as he had ever been, but he did not think he
could soon drop into slumber, and in fact he did not want to.

There was something in the companionship of these Indians that he had
not experienced before. He still had a strange and weak feeling--the
aftermath of that fear which had sickened him with its horrible icy
grip. Nas Ta Bega's arrival had frightened away that dark and silent
prowler of the night; and Shefford was convinced the Indian had saved
his life. The measure of his gratitude was a source of wonder to him.
Had he cared so much for life? Yes--he had, when face to face with
death. That was something to know. It helped him. And he gathered
from his strange feeling that the romantic quest which had brought him
into the wilderness might turn out to be an antidote for the morbid
bitterness of heart.

With new sensations had come new thoughts. Right then it was very
pleasant to sit in the warmth and light of the roaring cedar fire.
There was a deep-seated ache of fatigue in his bones. What joy it
was to rest! He had felt the dry scorch of desert thirst and the
pang of hunger. How wonderful to learn the real meaning of water
and food! He had just finished the longest, hardest day's work of