"Down-hill all the way," he concluded. "An' we'll make it in a
jiffy."
Nevertheless, it took nearly all of four days to sight the camp of
the traders--the advance-guard of the great construction work.
In those four days Allie had recovered her bloom, her health, her
strength--everything except the wonderful assurance which had been
hers. Durade had spoken daily with her, and had been kind, watchful,
like a guardian.
It was with a curious thrill that Allie gazed around as she rode
into the construction camp--horses and men and implements all
following the line of Neale's work. Could Neale be there? If so, how
dead was her heart to his nearness?
The tents of the workers, some new and white, others soiled and
ragged, stretched everywhere; large tents belched smoke and
resounded with the ring of hammers on anvil; soldiers stood on
guard; men, red-shirted and blue-shirted, swarmed as thick as ants;
in a wide hollow a long line of horses, in double row, heads
together, pulled hay from a rack as long as the line, and they
pulled and snorted and bit at one another; a strong smell of hay and
burning wood mingled with the odor of hot coffee and steaming beans;
fires blazed on all sides; under another huge tent, or many tents
without walls, stretched wooden tables and benches; on the scant
sage and rocks and brush, and everywhere upon the tents, lay in a
myriad of colors and varieties the lately washed clothes of the
toilers; and through the wide street of the camp clattered teams and
swearing teamsters, dragging plows with clanking chains and huge
scoops turned upside down.
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