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"
Yes
,
"
Fernando
agreed
.
"
Now
I
must
get
up
there
.
Good
night
,
Don
Roberto
.
"
"
Good
night
,
Fernando
.
"
Then
he
had
made
a
pillow
of
the
things
he
took
off
and
gotten
into
the
robe
and
then
lain
and
waited
,
feeling
the
spring
of
the
boughs
under
the
flannelly
,
feathered
lightness
of
the
robe
warmth
,
watching
the
mouth
of
the
cave
across
the
snow
;
feeling
his
heart
beat
as
he
waited
.
The
night
was
clear
and
his
head
felt
as
clear
and
cold
as
the
air
.
He
smelled
the
odor
of
the
pine
boughs
under
him
,
the
piney
smell
of
the
crushed
needles
and
the
sharper
odor
of
the
resinous
sap
from
the
cut
limbs
.
Pilar
,
he
thought
.
Pilar
and
the
smell
of
death
.
This
is
the
smell
I
love
.
This
and
fresh
-
cut
clover
,
the
crushed
sage
as
you
ride
after
cattle
,
wood
-
smoke
and
the
burning
leaves
of
autumn
.
That
must
be
the
odor
of
nostalgia
,
the
smell
of
the
smoke
from
the
piles
of
raked
leaves
burning
in
the
streets
in
the
fall
in
Missoula
.
Which
would
you
rather
smell
?
Sweet
grass
the
Indians
used
in
their
baskets
?
Smoked
leather
?
The
odor
of
the
ground
in
the
spring
after
rain
?
The
smell
of
the
sea
as
you
walk
through
the
gorse
on
a
headland
in
Galicia
?
Or
the
wind
from
the
land
as
you
come
in
toward
Cuba
in
the
dark
?
That
was
the
odor
of
the
cactus
flowers
,
mimosa
and
the
sea
-
grape
shrubs
.
Or
would
you
rather
smell
frying
bacon
in
the
morning
when
you
are
hungry
?
Or
coffee
in
the
morning
?
Or
a
Jonathan
apple
as
you
bit
into
it
?
Or
a
cider
mill
in
the
grinding
,
or
bread
fresh
from
the
oven
?
You
must
be
hungry
,
he
thought
,
and
he
lay
on
his
side
and
watched
the
entrance
of
the
cave
in
the
light
that
the
stars
reflected
from
the
snow
.
Some
one
came
out
from
under
the
blanket
and
he
could
see
whoever
it
was
standing
by
the
break
in
the
rock
that
made
the
entrance
.
Then
he
heard
a
slithering
sound
in
the
snow
and
then
whoever
it
was
ducked
down
and
went
back
in
.
I
suppose
she
won
’
t
come
until
they
are
all
asleep
,
he
thought
.
It
is
a
waste
of
time
.
The
night
is
half
gone
.
Oh
,
Maria
.
Come
now
quickly
,
Maria
,
for
there
is
little
time
.
He
heard
the
soft
sound
of
snow
falling
from
a
branch
onto
the
snow
on
the
ground
.
A
little
wind
was
rising
.
He
felt
it
on
his
face
.
Suddenly
he
felt
a
panic
that
she
might
not
come
.
The
wind
rising
now
reminded
him
how
soon
it
would
be
morning
.
More
snow
fell
from
the
branches
as
he
heard
the
wind
now
moving
the
pine
tops
.
Come
now
,
Maria
.
Please
come
here
now
quickly
,
he
thought
.
Oh
,
come
here
now
.
Do
not
wait
.
There
is
no
importance
any
more
to
your
waiting
until
they
are
asleep
.
Then
he
saw
her
coming
out
from
under
the
blanket
that
covered
the
cave
mouth
.
She
stood
there
a
moment
and
he
knew
it
was
she
but
he
could
not
see
what
she
was
doing
.
He
whistled
a
low
whistle
and
she
was
still
at
the
cave
mouth
doing
something
in
the
darkness
of
the
rock
shadow
.
Then
she
came
running
,
carrying
something
in
her
hands
and
he
saw
her
running
long
-
legged
through
the
snow
.
Then
she
was
kneeling
by
the
robe
,
her
head
pushed
hard
against
him
,
slapping
snow
from
her
feet
.
She
kissed
him
and
handed
him
her
bundle
.
"
Put
it
with
thy
pillow
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
took
these
off
there
to
save
time
.
"
"
You
came
barefoot
through
the
snow
?
"
