And now there came to him a full realisation of what had happened and where he was.  To his amazement, though, he was almost without pain.  That his wound had been dressed he was, of course, well aware for when he attempted to draw back still further the curtain at the window the movement strained the tight bandage, and he was instantly made conscious of a twinge of pain.

Nevertheless, he persevered, for he wisely decided that it would be well to reconnoitre, to familiarise himself, as much as possible, with the lay of the land and find out whether the trail that he had followed to reach the cabin which, he recalled, was perched high up above a ravine, was the only means of communication with the valley below.  It was a useless precaution, for the snow would have wholly obliterated any such trail had there been one and, soon realising the fact, he fell back exhausted by his effort on the pillows.

A half hour passed and the man began to grow restless.  He had, of course, no idea whatever of the length of time he had been in the cabin, and he knew that he must be thinking of an immediate escape.  In desperation, he tried to get out of bed, but the task was beyond his power.  At that a terrible feeling of hopelessness assailed him.  His only chance was to reach the valley where he had little fear of capture; but wounded, as he was, that seemed out of the question, and he saw himself caught like a rat in a trap.  In an access of rage at the situation in which he was placed he made another effort to raise himself up on his elbow and peer through the window at the Sierras.  The noise that he made, slight though it was, awoke the Girl.  In an instant she was at his bedside drawing the curtain over the window.

“What you thinkin’ of?” she asked.  “At any moment—­jest as soon as the trail can be cleared—­there’ll be someone of the boys up here to see how I’ve pulled through.  They mustn’t see you . . .”

Forcibly, but with loving tenderness, she put him back among his pillows and seated herself by the bed.  An awkward silence followed.  For now that the man was in his right senses it was borne in upon her that he might remember that she had fed him, given him drink and fondled him.  It was a situation embarrassing to both.  Neither knew just what to say or how to begin.  At length, the voice from the bed spoke: 

“How long have I been here?”

“Three days.”

“And you have nursed me all that—­”

“You mustn’t talk,” warned the girl.  “It’s dangerous in more ways than one.  But if you keep still no one’ll suspect that you’re here.”

“But I must know what happened,” he insisted with increasing excitement.  “I remember nothing after I came down the ladder.  The Sheriff—­Rance—­ what’s become . . .?”

The Girl chided him with gentle authority.