out ten minutes, I lifted it out and laid it again on the bank,
dried it, and covered it as well as I could, then ran to the forest for
leaves.

The grass and soil were dry and warm; and when I returned I thought it
had scarcely lost any of the heat the water had given it. I spread the
leaves upon it, and ran for more--then for a third and a fourth freight.

I could now leave it and go to explore, in the hope of discovering
some shelter. I ran up the stream toward some rocky hills I saw in that
direction, which were not far off.

When I reached them, I found the river issuing full grown from a rock
at the bottom of one of them. To my fancy it seemed to have run down a
stair inside, an eager cataract, at every landing wild to get out, but
only at the foot finding a door of escape.

It did not fill the opening whence it rushed, and I crept through into a
little cave, where I learned that, instead of hurrying tumultuously down
a stair, it rose quietly from the ground at the back like the base of
a large column, and ran along one side, nearly filling a deep, rather
narrow channel. I considered the place, and saw that, if I could find
a few fallen boughs long enough to lie across the channel, and large
enough to bear a little weight without bending much, I might, with
smaller branches and plenty of leaves, make upon them a comfortable
couch, which the stream under would keep constantly warm. Then I ran
back to see how my charge fared.

She was lying as I had left her. The heat had not brought her to life,
but neither had it developed anything to check farther hope. I got a few
boulders out of the channel, and arranged them at her feet and on both
sides of her.

Running again to the wood, I had not to search long ere I found some
small boughs fit for my purpose--mostly of beech, their dry yellow
leaves yet clinging to them. With these I had soon laid the floor of a
bridge-bed over the torrent. I crossed the boughs with smaller branches,
interlaced these with twigs, and buried all deep in leaves and dry moss.

When thus at length, after not a few journeys to the forest, I had
completed a warm, dry, soft couch, I took the body once more, and set
out with it for the cave. It was so light that now and then as I went
I almost feared lest, when I laid it down, I should find it a skeleton
after all; and when at last I did lay it gently on the pathless bridge,
it was a greater relief to part with that fancy than with the weigh