Silvermane whistled with satisfaction
and reached for the long grass.
For Hare the light held something more than beauty, the breeze something
more than sweet scent of water and blossom. Both were charged with
meaning--with suspense.
Wolf appeared in the open leaping upon a slender brown-garbed form.
"Mescal!" cried Hare.
With a cry she ran to him, her arms outstretched, her hair flying in the
wind, her dark eyes wild with joy.
XVI
THUNDER RIVER
FOR an instant Hare's brain reeled, and Mescal's broken murmurings were
meaningless Then his faculties grew steady and acute; he held the girl as
if he intended never to let her go. Mescal clung to him with a wildness
that gave him anxiety for her reason; there was something almost fierce
in the tension of her arms, in the blind groping for his face.
"Mescal! It's Jack, safe and well," he said. "Let me look at you."
At the sound of his voice all her rigid strength changed to a yielding
weakness; she leaned back supported by his arms and looked at him. Hare
trembled before the dusky level glance he remembered so well, and as
tears began to flow he drew her head to his shoulder.
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