The Last Red Spark of the Fires

Jolly roger slept with his back leaning against a sand dune the children had made. He dreamed and was flying through the air with yellow bird. At last he cried out for her to wait, that he could not go farther. The cry roused him; it was dawn in the sky. Slim buck lay in the sand, still asleep. There was no stir in the camp. Even the dogs were buried in their wallows of sand. Yellow bird still sat in the sandThrough the hours of fading starlight and coming dawn. She had not moved. When mckay rose to his feet when he came to her, making no sound, she looked up. Exhaustion

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