Y'u heah me!" "Yes--I'll go," she replied, as if forced.
"Wal--that's good," he said, quickly.

"An' rustle tolerable lively.
We've got to pack." The slow jangle of Colter's spurs and his slow steps moved away out of Ellen's hearing.

Throwing off the blankets, she put her feet to the floor and sat there a moment staring at the blank nothingness of the cabin interior in the obscure gray of dawn.

Cold, gray, dreary, obscure--like her life, her future! And she was compelled to do what was hateful to her.

As a Jorth she must take to the unfrequented trails and hide like a rabbit in the thickets.