Before he knew it he was asleep.
When he came to himself, there was a curious blending of dream and reality.

He thought his lady was coming to him across the rough plains in an automobile, with gray wings like those of the bird the girl had shot, and his prayer as he knelt in the sand was drawing her, while overhead the air was full of a wild, sweet music from strange birds that mocked and called and trilled.

But, when the automobile reached him and stopped, the lady withered into a little, old, dried-up creature of ashes; and the girl of the plains was sitting in her place radiant and beautiful.
He opened his eyes, and saw the rude little dinner set, and smelt the delicious odor of the roasted bird.

The girl was standing on the other side of the fire, gravely whistling a most extraordinary song, like unto all the birds of the air at once.
She had made a little cake out of the corn-meal, and they feasted royally.
"I caught two fishes in the brook.

We'll take them along for supper," she said as they packed the things again for starting.