It could never be
the same, of course, but yet, day by day, she found her mother-love,
enveloping the waif more closely until she sometimes sat with
closed eyes lost in the sweet imagining that the little bundle of
humanity at her breast was truly her own.
For some time their progress inland was extremely slow. Word came
to them from time to time through natives passing from the coast
on hunting excursions that Rokoff had not yet guessed the direction
of their flight. This, and the desire to make the journey as light
as possible for the gently bred woman, kept Anderssen to a slow
advance of short and easy marches with many rests.
The Swede insisted upon carrying the child while they travelled,
and in countless other ways did what he could to help Jane Clayton
conserve her strength. He had been terribly chagrined on discovering
the mistake he had made in the identity of the baby, but once the
young woman became convinced that his motives were truly chivalrous
she would not permit him longer to upbraid himself for the error
that he could not by any means have avoided.
At the close of each day's march Anderssen saw to the erection of
a comfortable shelter for Jane and the child. Her tent was always
pitched in the most favourable location. The thorn boma round
it was the strongest and most impregnable that the Mosula could
construct.
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