"Who are you?" she faltered. "A mountain man. I'll camp with you." Then glancing about, "Where are the rest of them?" "They're round somewhere," she answered. "We have sickness here." "Cholera?" quickly. She shook her head. Without more words he went back and picketed his horses, and took the pack and saddle off. She could see his long, pale-colored figure moving from darkness into light, and the animals drooping with stretched necks as their bonds were loosened. When he came back to the fire he dropped a blanket and laid his gun close to it, then threw himself down. The rattle of the powder horn and bullet mold he wore hanging from his shoulder came with the movement. He slipped the strap off and threw it beside the gun. Then drew one foot up and unfastened a large spur attached to his moccasined heel. He wore a ragged otter-skin cap, the animal's tail hanging down on one side. This he took off too, showing his thick red hair, damp and matted from the heat of the fur. With a knotted hand he pushed back the locks pressed down on his forehead. The skin there was untanned and lay like a white band above the darkness of his face, thin, edged with a fringe of red beard and with blue eyes set high above prominent cheek bones. He threw his spur on the other things, and looking up met Susan's eyes staring at him across the fire. "Where are you going?" he asked. "To California." "So am I." She made no answer. "Were you asleep when I came?" "No, I was thinking." A sound of anguish came from the tent, and Susan set her teeth on her underlip stiffening. He looked in its direction, then back at her. "What's the matter there?" he asked. "A child is being born." He made no comment, swept the background of tents and wagon roofs with an investigating eye that finally came to a stop on the sleeping children. "Are these yours?" "No, they belong to the woman who is sick." His glance left them as if uninterested, and he leaned backward to pull his blanket out more fully. His body, in the sleekly pliant buckskins, was lean and supple. As he twisted, stretching an arm to draw out the crumpled folds, the lines of his long back and powerful shoulders showed the sinuous grace of a cat. He relaxed into easeful full length, propped on an elbow, his red hair coiling against his neck. Susan stole a stealthy glance at him. As if she had spoken, he instantly raised his head and looked into her eyes.