A small spring bubbled up near the roots of the pine and trickled across the space in front of the cabin. To this, by common consent, the party made its way. The exhausted horse plunged its nose in the cool current and drank and snorted and drank again. The elder woman knelt down and laved her face and neck and even the top of her head in the water. The man stood looking with a moody eye at his broken animal, and joined by Fletcher, they talked over its condition. The miner, versed in this as in all practical matters, deemed the beast incapacitated for journeys of any length for some time to come. Both animals had been driven to the limit of their strength. The pioneer asserted: “I had to get acrost before the snows blocked us, and they’re heavy up there now,” with a nod of his head toward the mountains above; “then I wanted to get down into the settlements as soon’s I could. I knew there weren’t two more days work in ’em, but I calk’lated they’d get me in. After that it didn’t matter.” “The only thing for you to do is to walk into Hangtown, buy a mule there, and come back.” The man made a despairing gesture. “How the hell can I, with her?” he said, indicating the younger woman. Fletcher turned round and surveyed her with a cold, exploring eye where she had sunk down on the roots of the pine, with her back against its trunk. “She looks pretty well tuckered out,” he said. “Your wife?” “Yes.” “And the other one’s your sister?” he continued with glib curiosity. “She’s my wife, too.” The inquirer, who was used to such plurality on the part of the Utah emigrants, gave a whistle and said: “Mormons, eh?” The man nodded. Meantime Moreau had entered the cabin to get some food and drink to offer the sick woman. In a few moments he reappeared carrying a tin cup containing whisky diluted with water from the spring, and approached the woman sitting by the tree trunk. Her eyes were closed and she presented a deathlike appearance. The shawl she had worn round her shoulders had fallen back and disclosed a small bundle that she held with a loose carefulness. The man noticed the way her arms were disposed about it and wondered. Coming to a standstill before her, he said: “I’ve brought you something that’ll brace you up. Would you like to try it?” She raised her lids and looked at him, and then at the cup. As he met her glance he noticed that her eyes were a clear brown like a dog’s, and for the first time he realized that she might be young. She stretched out her hand obediently and taking the cup drank a little, then silently gave it back. “You’ve had a pretty rough time I guess,” he said, holding the cup which he intended to give her again in a minute. She nodded. Then suddenly the tears began to well out of her eyes, quantities of tears that ran in a flood over her cheeks. She did not sob or attempt to hide her face, but leaning her head against the tree, let the tears flow as though lost to everything but her sense of misery.