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Gregory, Jackson, 1882-1943

"Daughter of the Sun A Tale of Adventure"

With our fire out and a lot
of dead limbs scattered about the entrance to crack under a man's foot,
they'll not surprise us tonight, even if they should know where we are.
Tomorrow we'll keep a watch over the ravine. And tomorrow night I hope
we'll be on the trail toward the gulf. Now do you want to slip out
with me for a goodnight drink of water? Or would you rather wait here
for me?"
Betty was on her feet in a flash.
"I've done enough waiting today to last me the rest of my life!" she
cried emphatically. "I'll go with you."

So again, and as cautious as they had been last night, they made their
way down the steep slope and drank in the starlight. They tarried a
little by the trickle of water, heeding the silence, breathing deep of
the soft night, lifting their eyes to the stars. The world seemed
young and sweet about them, clean and tender, a place of infinite peace
and kindness rather than of a pursuing hate. They stood close
together; their shoulders brushed companionably. Together they
hearkened to a tiny voice thrilling through the emptiness, the
monotonous vibrating cadences of some happy insect. The heat of the
day had passed with the day, the perfect hour had come. It was one of
those moments which Jim Kendric found to his liking. Many such still
hours had he known under many skies and out of the night had always
come something vague and mighty to speak to something no less mighty
which lay within his soul.


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