In a few minutes her voice became dreamy: soon she was sleeping like a tired child.
He managed to lay her on a comfortable pile of ragged clothing and then resumed his vigil.

Mir Jan offered to mount guard beneath, but Jenks bade him go within the cave and remain there, for the dawn would soon be upon them.
Left alone with his thoughts, he wondered what the rising sun would bring in its train.

He reviewed the events of the last twenty-four hours.

Iris and he--Miss Deane, Mr.Jenks, to each other--were then undiscovered in their refuge, the Dyaks were gathered around a roaring fire in the valley, and Mir Jan was keen in the hunt as the keenest among them.

Now, Iris was his affianced bride, over twenty of the enemy were killed and many wounded, and Mir Jan, a devoted adherent, was seated beside the skeleton in the gloom of the cavern.
What a topsy-turvy world it was, to be sure! What alternations between despair and hope! What rebound from the gates of Death to the threshold of Eden! How untrue, after all, was the nebulous philosophy of Omar, the Tentmaker.