.
She preferred to sit up.

In half an hour a long, resigned snore from the neighborhood of the great
pine proved that Carver Standish had forgotten all about fires and
protection. Virginia smiled to herself as she reached for more wood. There
was bacon in camp and undoubtedly bears on the mountain. The combination
made a big fire desirable. Moreover, she was determined that the Sagebrush
Point fire, replenished from time to time by a black dot, should not
eclipse her own.

"Sit up a minute, Vivian," she whispered, trying to rise. "I want to get
one of those big logs which I can't reach from here. I'll be back in a
moment."

But when she returned with the log, Vivian's head had dropped upon the
blankets, and the flames which leaped up a moment later showed her, to
Virginia's joy, to be fast asleep.

So the founder of the Vigilantes was the only one left to guard the
fortunes of the camp. She took her station near the edge of the slope, a
little distance from the fire, drew her blanket close around her, and
began her vigil. There was so much to see and to think about! She was glad
she felt wide-awake.

Deep in the gorge below her, the river called with a thousand voices. Down
in the valley the pine trees reared their heads--little spear points
pricking the purple blackness of the night. The fire on Sagebrush sparkled
like a single jewel in a vast setting. Far above and beyond the valley
rose the opposite height, dark and indistinct--a bridge between two
worlds. To Virginia she was like an eagle, secure in his nest on the
topmost pinnacle of a cliff, and looking forth upon his domain.

Now she turned her face upward toward the deep, almost transparent blue of
the midnight sky. It was set with myriads of stars--great arc-lights,
beacons at sea, flickering candle-flames. A star fell--it was one of the
beacons--and came earthward, trailing glory in its wake. Then, the path
blazed, another followed, and a third. The last was a little candle-flame,
almost too tiny to find its way alone. The Milky Way was a great, golden
trail across the sky. If souls traversed it on their way to the Great
Throne, as she had believed when she was a little girl, they would have no
difficulty to-night in finding their way. She traced its triumphant course
across the heavens. It seemed to begin on earth, she thought to herself,
and come back to earth again after its journey skyward. That might break
in pieces her childhood dream. But perhap