Almost it was as if she had returned to life.
And Venters thought with lightning swiftness, "I've saved her--I've unlinked her from that old life--she was watching as if I were all she had left on earth--she belongs to me!" The thought was startlingly new.
Like a blow it was in an unprepared moment.

The cheery salutation he had ready for her died unborn and he tumbled the pieces of pottery awkwardly on the grass while some unfamiliar, deep-seated emotion, mixed with pity and glad assurance of his power to succor her, held him dumb.
"What a load you had!" she said.

"Why, they're pots and crocks! Where did you get them ?" Venters laid down his rifle, and, filling one of the pots from his canteen, he placed it on the smoldering campfire.
"Hope it'll hold water," he said, presently.

"Why, there's an enormous cliff-dwelling just across here.

I got the pottery there.