She found, just before dark, an open meadow-like break in the
almost interminable bush. There was a small clump of trees near the
center and here she decided to camp. The grass was high and thick,
affording feed for her horse and a bed for herself, and there was
more than enough dead wood lying about the trees to furnish a good
fire well through the night. Removing the saddle and bridle from
her mount she placed them at the foot of a tree and then picketed
the animal close by. Then she busied herself collecting firewood
and by the time darkness had fallen she had a good fire and enough
wood to last until morning.
From her saddlebags she took cold food and from her canteen a
swallow of water. She could not afford more than a small swallow
for she could not know how long a time it might be before she should
find more. It filled her with sorrow that her poor horse must go
waterless, for even German spies may have hearts and this one was
very young and very feminine.
It was now dark. There was neither moon nor stars and the light
from her fire only accentuated the blackness beyond. She could see
the grass about her and the boles of the trees which stood out in
brilliant relief against the solid background of impenetrable night,
and beyond the firelight there was nothing.
The jungle seemed ominously quiet.
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