She seemingly
roasted hands, face, and knees while her back froze. The wind blew the
smoke in all directions. When she groped around with blurred, smarting eyes
to escape the hot smoke, it followed her. The other members of the party
sat comfortably on sacks or rocks, without much notice of the smoke that so
exasperated Carley. Twice Glenn insisted that she take a seat he had fixed
for her, but she preferred to stand and move around a little.
By and by the camp tasks of the men appeared to be ended, and all gathered
near the fire to lounge and smoke and talk. Glenn and Hutter engaged in
interested conversation with two Mexicans, evidently sheep herders. If the
wind and cold had not made Carley so uncomfortable she might have found the
scene picturesque. How black the night! She could scarcely distinguish the
sky at all. The cedar branches swished in the wind, and from the gloom came
a low sound of waves lapping a rocky shore. Presently Glenn held up a hand.
"Listen, Carley!" he said.
Then she heard strange wild yelps, staccato, piercing, somehow infinitely
lonely. They made her shudder.
"Coyotes," said Glenn. "You'll come to love that chorus. Hear the dogs bark
back."
Carley listened with interest, but she was inclined to doubt that she would
ever become enamoured of such wild cries.
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