THE ANIMAS 117 



I was awakened, I recall, by the sound of an axe. 

 Peeping out from under the tarp, through the grey 

 pall of dawn, I saw Bert vigorously splitting wood 

 for the fire, which twinkled and smoked as if just 

 kindled. It was a sight to make one shiver pleas- 

 antly and crawl deeper into the blankets. I lay still 

 for a while, enjoying to the full the languorous mood 

 that comes over one at such times. 



But something was wrong. I became for some 

 reason uncomfortable. A shadow in the background 

 of my thoughts took shape and form. The Animas ! 

 There came that sinking at the pit of the stomach 

 that one feels before a race, a football game, or a 

 fight. 



"Ye-ah-ah!" 



Bert's "get up" scream cut the silence like a 

 siren. No time now for nervous imaginations or 

 forebodings ! Breakfast was on the way. 



Answering screeches lusty, feeble, sleepy, hoarse, 

 or muffled, came from the tents around. One by one 

 emerged half clad, tousled, yawning forms, making 

 single-mindedly for the wash basins by the creek. 



It was growing lighter now. We could see the 

 sun on the high peaks, though the canyons were still 

 in shade. The cook fire leapt and blazed. We 

 stood in a half circle about it, soaking up the grate- 

 ful warmth. 



Suddenly Bert's voice shrilled once more: 



' ' Breffo ! Take her aw-a-ay ! ' ' 



The summons called us to a steaming meal of 



