but when you ride an awkward and untrained mule,
when you have not sat a horse for a year, and have
an old saddle that fits you like an umbrella or a
barrel, you get tired, stiff-limbed, and used up in a
way that is indescribable. As for poor Paquita she
was literally crucified, but went about picking up
quills for beds for all, and never once murmured.
The Doctor was very ill. Klamat went down the hill-side and found some water to wet his lips, but this did not revive him. It was a cold evening. The autumn wind came pitching down from the Shasta, sharp and sudden. The old Frost King, who had been driven to the mountain-top in the early summer, was descending now by degrees to reclaim his original kingdom.
We unpacked the little mule and spread a bed for the suffering man, but still he shivered and shook, and we could not get him warm. We, too, were suffering from the cold. We could hardly move when we had rested a moment and let the cold drive back the perspiration, and drive the chill to the marrow.
u A fire," said the Prince.
Klamat protested against it. The sick man grew worse. Something warm would restore him.
We must have a fire. Paquita gathered up some pine knots from the hill side. A match was struck in the quills. The mules started, lifted their noses, but hardly moved as the fire sprung up like a giant full-grown, and reached for the cones of the sugar-
