They could hear him growling as he stood in the
sunshine, his head swinging slowly from side to side like a huge
pendulum--in his throat the last echoing of that ferocious rage and
hate that had destroyed their enemies. And in the same moment Baree
stood in the doorway, his lips drawn back and his fangs gleaming, as if
he expected other enemies to face him.
Quickly David led Marge beyond the boulder from behind which he had
opened the fight, and drew her down with him into a soft carpet of
grass, thick with the blue of wild violets, with the big rock shutting
out the cabin from their vision.
"Rest here, little comrade," he said, his voice low and trembling with
his worship of her, his hands stroking back her wonderful hair. "I must
return to the cabin. Then--we will go."
"Go!"
She repeated the word in the strangest, softest whisper he had ever
heard, as if in it all at once she saw the sun and stars, the day and
night, of her whole life. She looked from his face down into the valley,
and into his face again.
"We--will go," she repeated, as he rose to his feet.
She shivered when he left her, shuddered with a terrible little cry
which she tried to choke back even as she visioned the first glow of
that wonderful new life that was dawning for her.
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