y
altercation in the dark--and it was dark--they agreed to go on. So,
taking a yoke of oxen from our cart, they were put in front of the four
of the first cart, and off we started. Nunn volunteered to stand by and
guard the stranded cart; so giving him two blankets and a little brandy
we drove off in the darkness. But not until, in sight of all, I had
given him a revolver, and each of the unlucky thirteen a good nip of
brandy. My anxiety about serious results was over as soon we started,
and in an hour and a half we halted in front of a wretched mountain inn,
patronized by muleteers, with the first story for a stable, but none of
us were disposed to be particular. A supper of Spanish beans was soon
ready, and then a bed was made up on the floor, and the women were soon
asleep. After seeing that the mules and oxen were fed, I took half an
hour's nap. Then with two drivers we started back, taking three yoke of
oxen. What a tramp I had back through the snow and storm! I was very
happy, however, for I knew my wife and party were safely sheltered, and
the excitement of action kept one from being gloomy.

In due time we found our stray, hitched to and started, but it was hard
pulling and the exhausted oxen had to come to frequent halts. At last,
just as I was beginning to feel tired, we came to the fonda.

The snow had slackened, but the wind was beginning to blow, so Nunn and
I carried all the luggage and traps into a corner of the stable below,
and tumbling down into the hay we were soon in the land of dreams. In my
dreams I was on a shoreless sea in a bark that silently and swiftly
circled around. Dark clouds closed in on all sides, while my boat sailed
between ever-narrowing walls, the clouds still closing in, until a giant
hand grew out from a ragged edge of the cloud wall, which, seizing the
prow of my boat, pulled it into the gloom and darkness. I felt the
clouds brushing my cheek. I heard the roar of falling water, and felt
that my doom was sealed. I thought of my wife, and, trying to call her
name, was dumb. I looked behind. Far off and far up there was a glow of
rosy light, and within the aureole was her face, full of sorrow, looking
at me with pity in every feature. As I looked, her face was slowly
eclipsed by a cloud. Then with one cry I plunged into the sea--and
awoke.

That dream would easily have joined the long procession of forgotten
dreams, but it was recalled many a time during many years. And, try as I