The light above gradually faded, and over a
sharp stone Elma stumbled and ripped her shoe.
I looked at my watch, and found that it was already five o'clock. In an
hour it would be dark, the beginning of the long northern night. Elma,
who was weary and footsore, asked by signs to be permitted to lay down
and rest. Therefore we gathered a bed of dried leaves for her, and she
lay down, and while we watched she was soon asleep. The Finn, who
declared that he did not suffer from the cold, removed his coat and
placed it tenderly upon her shoulders.
While there was still a ray of light I watched her white refined
features as she slept, and was sorely tempted to bend and imprint a kiss
upon that soft inviting cheek. Yet I had no right to do so--no right to
take such an advantage.
The long cold night passed wearily, and the howling of the wolves caused
me to grip my revolver, yet at daybreak we arose refreshed, and
notwithstanding the terrible pangs of hunger now gnawing at our vitals,
we were prepared to renew our desperate dash for liberty.
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