In the little clearing round the empty shack, the horses were tied in
the cold rain. It was impossible to let them loose, for we could never
have found them again. Our hearts ached that night for the hungry
creatures; the rain had brought a cold wind and they could not even move
about to keep warm.
I was too tired to eat that night. I went to bed and lay in my tent,
listening to the sound of the rain on the canvas. The camp-stove was set
up in the trail, and the others gathered round it, eating in the rain.
But, weary as I was, I did not sleep. For the first time, terror of the
forest gripped me. It menaced; it threatened.
The roar of the river sounded like the rush of flame. I lay there and
wondered what would happen if the forest took fire. For the gentle
summer rain would do little good once a fire started. There would be no
way out. The giant cliffs would offer no refuge. We could not even have
reached them through the jungle had we tried. And forest-fires were
common enough. We had ridden over too many burned areas not to realize
that.
XVII
OUT TO CIVILIZATION
It was still raining in the morning.
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