id languidly; "but I thought it was night. Did I dream
it all, and how did I get here? I don't remember this place."

She looked around curiously and then closed her eyes as if the effort
were almost too much.

"Oh, I feel so queer and tired, as if I never wanted to move again," she
murmured.

"Don't move," he commanded. "Wait until you've had something to eat.
I'll bring it at once."

He brought a cup of steaming hot beef extract with little broken bits of
biscuit from a small tin box in the pack, and fed it to her a spoonful
at a time.

"Who are you?" she asked as she swallowed the last spoonful, and opened
her eyes, which had been closed most of the time, while he fed her, as
if she were too tired to keep them open.

"Oh, I'm just the missionary. Brownleigh's my name. Now don't talk until
you've had the rest of your dinner. I'll bring it in a minute. I want to
make you a cup of tea, but you see I have to wash this cup first. The
supply of dishes is limited." His genial smile and hearty words
reassured her and she smiled and submitted.

"A missionary!" she mused and opened her eyes furtively to watch him as
he went about his task. A missionary! She had never seen a missionary
before, to her knowledge. She had fancied them always quite a different
species, plain old maids with hair tightly drawn behind their ears and a
poke bonnet with little white lawn strings.

This was a man, young, strong, engaging, and handsome as a fine piece of
bronze. The brown flannel shirt he wore fitted easily over well knit
muscles and exactly matched the brown of the abundant wavy hair in which
the morning sun was setting glints of gold as he knelt before the fire
and deftly completed his cookery. His soft wide-brimmed felt hat pushed
far back on the head, the corduroy trousers, leather chaps and belt with
brace of pistols all fitted into the picture and made the girl feel that
she had suddenly left the earth where she had heretofore lived and been
dropped into an unknown land with a strong kind angel to look after her.

A missionary! Then of course she needn't be afraid of him. As she
studied his face she knew that she couldn't possibly have been afraid of
that face anyway, unless, perhaps, she had ventured to disobey its
owner's orders. He had a strong, firm chin, and his lips though kindly
in their curve looked decided as though they were not to be trifled
with. On the whole if this was a missionary then she must change her
i