of blonde hair; Oakhurst, a gambler, had the melancholy air and
intellectual abstraction of a Hamlet; the coolest and most courageous
man was scarcely over five feet in height, with a soft voice and an
embarrassed, timid manner. The term "roughs" applied to them was a
distinction rather than a definition. Perhaps in the minor details of
fingers, toes, ears, etc., the camp may have been deficient, but these
slight omissions did not detract from their aggregate force. The
strongest man had but three fingers on his right hand; the best shot
had but one eye.

Such was the physical aspect of the men that were dispersed around the
cabin. The camp lay in a triangular valley between two hills and a
river. The only outlet was a steep trail over the summit of a hill
that faced the cabin, now illuminated by the rising moon. The
suffering woman might have seen it from the rude bunk whereon she
lay,--seen it winding like a silver thread until it was lost in the
stars above.

A fire of withered pine boughs added sociability to the gathering. By
degrees the natural levity of Roaring Camp returned. Bets were freely
offered and taken regarding the result. Three to five that "Sal would
get through with it;" even that the child would survive; side bets as
to the sex and complexion of the coming stranger. In the midst of an
excited discussion an exclamation came from those nearest the door,
and the camp stopped to listen. Above the swaying and moaning of the
pines, the swift rush of the river, and the crackling of the fire rose
a sharp, querulous cry,--a cry unlike anything heard before in the
camp. The pines stopped moaning, the river ceased to rush, and the
fire to crackle. It seemed as if Nature had stopped to listen too.