She said dreamily, "I wish we were there too." Then she smiled. "Mother and Daddy were funny about insisting that all of us be settled in Oregon before we could get married." "Settled, _and_ with a roof over our heads," he reminded her. He grinned dryly. "Guess maybe they're still not sure I'm capable of putting up a roof." "Oh, they think you're capable, all right." She giggled. "I guess they think you might take a fancy to some other girl. You know, an impulse. You've got lots of impulses, Ellis Garner!" "You're absolutely right," he agreed. "I've got an impulse right now to kiss you twice." He did so. "And to build a big, beautiful home for us and our twenty children." His voice settled into a soft, crooning rhythm. "I'll build a palace for my queen," he promised, "all of pure white marble. But the colors inside will be warm and beautiful, like you. And every day I'll bring you milk and honey, and all the rest of the time I'll be happy just to look at you." She laughed gently. "Oh no, Ellis. It will be a nice log house, with a big kitchen where I can make the things you like, and every day when you come in from the fields you'll bring me wild flowers. Except in winter, of course. Then you can bring me evergreen branches with bittersweet to trim them so I can always have everything looking just the way you want it to look." They stood together while the night wore on and dawn came. Ellis turned with a guilty start. "I shouldn't have kept you up!" "I _want_ to be up. This is more fun than sleeping!" "You aren't tired?" "Truly I'm not." "Do you want to ride ahead this morning?" "Oh yes!" Hand in hand they walked back to the wagon. Ellis built a fire and heated water. Coming from the wagon, Joe stretched and went to look at the mules. A moment later, Emma had a gentle greeting and a caressing look for the two young people. They sat side by side and ate breakfast. Then Ellis saddled his horse and both mounted. This was part of their ritual, something they did every day, and they told themselves that they were scouting the trail. But in reality, the wagon was slow and the horse was fast. He provided the wings which their fancies created for them. Barbara, no more than a feather's weight, encircled Ellis's waist and they were off. They would ride perhaps four or five miles, then walk together, leading the horse, until the wagon caught up with them. But this morning they were scarcely out of sight of the wagon when they saw them. They were coming up the Trail, a dozen men mounted on tough, wiry little horses, and Ellis needed no second glance to know that they were Indians. He clenched his long rifle and whispered, "See them?" "I see them," she whispered back. They were walking their horses, but when they saw Ellis and Barbara they broke into a trot. Barbara's arms tightened about him, and Ellis said gently, "Don't be afraid." She shivered. "They--they're coming." "But they can't catch us."