She cut wood and washed clothes, pulverized nuts and acorns for bread, cooked their meals, and watched the snow pile up about the Cave of Hypocritical Frogs, and when there was nothing to do she left her charge and sought the waterfall, unable to bear the pitiable sight of him. Not that there was solace in the roaring and croaking and murmuring of the water. Its icy sheets depressed her immeasurably. But below it played and sang the water ouzel, happy, bobbing up and down and nodding sidewise, singing as if there were no terrors upon the earth, while over him and about him dashed the freezing spray. He who could sing at the top of his voice and dance throughout days that were dull and dreary, in the very teeth of the raging waters, gave solace. CHAPTER XXVII ADRIFT ON LOST RIVER HERE sat Charmian abreast the pounding waters, sobbing at times as if her heart would break, while up at the cave lolled the drivelling thing that once had been a man, young and handsome and pulsing with the thrill of life. The little water ouzel bowed and bobbed to her, perched on a stone in the frothy pool below. He was like a boy stripped for the first spring plunge into his favourite swimming hole, but jouncing on the spring-board, shivering in anticipation of the chilling dive, and thinking up excuses to postpone it. Yet always he dived, broke the surface of the water again, and perched himself once more on his aquatic throne. Here he bobbed his head to the girl and danced about, then lifted a voice attuned to the song of the dashing waters, but merging trills of gladness with their funeral dirge. He was always there; he never failed her. He feared her not at all, neither did he court her. The only jarring element in their companionship was his complete indifference to her presence. But she forgave him this when he sent forth his fluty notes in defiance of ice and snow and driving spray. Here she sat and wept, ofttimes trembling from the cold, and prayed for relief from this hideous thing that had come upon her. Her brief dream of love had faded. At first she had striven bravely to keep the fires burning, devoting herself to sacrifices for him, trying to remember him as he had been only a few short days before. At times she hated herself for what she considered her inconstancy and lack of character. But her dream of love had gone--and now she realized that love never had existed. He had swept her off her feet, this once handsome, careless boy, and her youth had responded to his. Now she had time to think, and she knew that she had dreamed.