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diff --git a/26239-h/26239-h.htm b/26239-h/26239-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..719d985 --- /dev/null +++ b/26239-h/26239-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9108 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Forester’s Daughter, by Hamlin Garland. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.2em} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + .caption {font-size:.8em} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.4em} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Forester's Daughter, by Hamlin Garland + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Forester's Daughter + A Romance of the Bear-Tooth Range + +Author: Hamlin Garland + +Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26239] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORESTER'S DAUGHTER *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 339px; height: 481px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 339px;'> +HER FACE SHONE AS SHE CALLED OUT: “WELL, HOW DO YOU STACK UP THIS MORNING?” (See page 31)<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:1em;'>THE FORESTER’S</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>DAUGHTER</p> +<p style=' margin-bottom:2em;'>A ROMANCE OF THE BEAR-TOOTH RANGE</p> +<p>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'>HAMLIN GARLAND</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>“THE CAPTAIN OF THE GRAY-HORSE TROOP”</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:3em;'>“MAIN-TRAVELLED ROADS” ETC.</p> +<p style=' font-size:1em; margin-bottom:3em;'>ILLUSTRATED</p> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title='' /><br /> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1em;'>HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>NEW YORK AND LONDON</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>MCMXIV</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'> +<p>COPYRIGHT. 1914. BY HAMLIN GARLAND</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> +<p>PUBLISHED FEBRUARY, 1914</p> +<p>A-O</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Happy Girl</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_HAPPY_GIRL'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Ride In The Rain</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_A_RIDE_IN_THE_RAIN'>19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Wayland Receives a Warning</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_WAYLAND_RECEIVES_A_WARNING'>46</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Supervisor of the Forest</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_THE_SUPERVISOR_OF_THE_FOREST'>68</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Golden Pathway</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_THE_GOLDEN_PATHWAY'>82</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Storm-Bound</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_STORMBOUND'>110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Walk in the Rain</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_THE_WALK_IN_THE_RAIN'>123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Other Girl</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_THE_OTHER_GIRL'>142</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Further Perplexities</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_FURTHER_PERPLEXITIES'>159</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Camp on the Pass</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_THE_CAMP_ON_THE_PASS'>173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Death-Grapple</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_DEATHGRAPPLE'>195</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Berrie’s Vigil</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_BERRIE_S_VIGIL'>204</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Gossips Awake</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_THE_GOSSIPS_AWAKE'>223</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Summons</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_SUMMONS'>247</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Matter of Millinery</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_A_MATTER_OF_MILLINERY'>260</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Private Car</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_THE_PRIVATE_CAR'>274</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Illustrations</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto'> +<col style='width:80%;' /> +<col style='width:20%;' /> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Her Face Shone as She Called Out: “Well, How Do You Stack Up This Morning?”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Girl Behind Him was a Wondrous Part of This Wild and Unaccountable Country</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>6</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>She Found Herself Confronted by an Endless Maze of Blackened Tree-Trunks</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>140</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Slender Youth Went Down Before the Big Rancher as though Struck by a Catapult</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>196</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>AUTHOR’S FOREWORD</p> +</div> + +<p>This little story is the outcome of two trips +(neither of which was in the Bear Tooth +Forest) during the years 1909 and 1910. Its +main claim on the reader’s interest will lie, no +doubt, in the character of Berea McFarlane; +but I find myself re-living with keen pleasure +the splendid drama of wind and cloud and +swaying forest which made the expeditions +memorable.</p> +<p>The golden trail is an actuality for me. The +camp on the lake was mine. The rain, the snow +I met. The prying camp-robbers, the grouse, +the muskrats, the beaver were my companions. +But Berrie was with me only in imagination. +She is a fiction, born of a momentary, powerful +hand-clasp of a Western rancher’s daughter. +The story of Wayland Norcross is fiction also. +But the McFarlane ranch, the mill, and the +lonely ranger-stations are closely drawn pictures +of realities. Although the stage of my comedy +is Colorado, I have not held to any one locality. +The scene is composite.</p> +<p>It was my intention, originally, to write a much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +longer and more important book concerning +Supervisor McFarlane, but Berrie took the story +into her own strong hands and made of it something +so intimate and so idyllic that I could not +bring the more prosaic element into it. It remained +personal and youthful in spite of my +plans, a divergence for which, perhaps, most of +my readers will be grateful.</p> +<p>As for its title, I had little to do with its +selection. My daughter, Mary Isabel, aged ten, +selected it from among a half-dozen others, +and for luck I let it stand, although it sounds +somewhat like that of a paper-bound German +romance. For the sub-title my publishers are +responsible.</p> +<p>Finally, I warn the reader that this is merely +the very slender story of a young Western girl +who, being desired of three strong men, bestows +her love on a “tourist” whose weakness is at +once her allurement and her care. The administration +problem, the sociologic theme, which was +to have made the novel worth while, got lost in +some way on the low trail and never caught up +with the lovers. I’m sorry—but so it was!</p> +<p> <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Chicago</span>, <i>January, 1914</i>.</p> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>THE FORESTER’S DAUGHTER</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.3em; margin-top:2em;'>THE FORESTER’S DAUGHTER</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_THE_HAPPY_GIRL' id='I_THE_HAPPY_GIRL'></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<h3>THE HAPPY GIRL</h3> +</div> + +<p>The stage line which ran from Williams to +Bear Tooth (one of the most authentic then +to be found in all the West) possessed at least one +genuine Concord coach, so faded, so saddened, +so cracked, and so splintered that its passengers +entered it under protest, and alighted from it +with thanksgiving, and yet it must have been +built by honorable men, for in 190- it still made +the run of one hundred and twenty miles twice +each week without loss of wheel or even so much +as moulting a scrap of paint.</p> +<p>And yet, whatever it may have been in its +youth, it was in its age no longer a gay dash of +color in the landscape. On the contrary, it +fitted into the dust-brown and sage-green plain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +as defensively as a beetle in a dusty path. Nevertheless, +it was an indispensable part of a very +moving picture as it crept, creaking and groaning +(or it may be it was the suffering passenger +creaking and groaning), along the hillside.</p> +<p>After leaving the Grande River the road winds +up a pretty high divide before plunging down into +Ute Park, as they call all that region lying between +the Continental Range on the east and +the Bear Tooth plateau on the west. It was a +big spread of land, and very far from an Eastern +man’s conception of a park. From Dome Peak +it seems a plain; but, in fact, when clouds shut +off the high summits to the west, this “valley” +becomes a veritable mountain land, a tumbled, +lonely country, over which an occasional horseman +crawls, a minute but persistent insect. It +is, to be exact, a succession of ridges and ravines, +sculptured (in some far-off, post-glacial time) by +floods of water, covered now, rather sparsely, +with pinons, cedars, and aspens, a dry, forbidding, +but majestic landscape.</p> +<p>In late August the hills become iridescent, +opaline with the translucent yellow of the aspen, +the coral and crimson of the fire-weed, the blood-red +of huckleberry beds, and the royal purple of +the asters, while flowing round all, as solvent and +neutral setting, lies the gray-green of the ever-present +and ever-enduring sage-brush. On the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +loftier heights these colors are arranged in most +intricate and cunning patterns, with nothing +hard, nothing flaring in the prospect. All is +harmonious and restful. It is, moreover, silent, +silent as a dream world, and so flooded with light +that the senses ache with the stress of it.</p> +<p>Through this gorgeous land of mist, of stillness, +and of death, a few years ago a pale young +man (seated beside the driver) rode one summer +day in a voiceless rapture which made Bill McCoy +weary.</p> +<p>“If you’d had as much of this as I have you’d +talk of something else,” he growled, after a half +dozen attempts at conversation. Bill wasn’t +much to look at, but he was a good driver and +the stranger respected him for it.</p> +<p>Eventually this simple-minded horseman became +curious about the slim young fellow sitting +beside him.</p> +<p>“What you doing out here, anyhow—fishing +or just rebuilding a lung?”</p> +<p>“Rebuilding two lungs,” answered the tourist.</p> +<p>“Well, this climate will just about put lungs +into a coffee-can,” retorted Bill, with official +loyalty to his country.</p> +<p>To his discerning eye “the tourist” now became +“a lunger.” “Where do you live when +you’re to home?”</p> +<p>“Connecticut.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></p> +<p>“I knew it.”</p> +<p>“How did you know it?” The youth seemed +really interested to know.</p> +<p>“I drove another fellow up here last fall that +dealt out the same kind of brogue you do.”</p> +<p>This amused the tourist. “You think I have +a ‘brogue,’ do you?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think it—I know it!” Bill replied, +shortly.</p> +<p>He was prevented at the moment from pursuing +this line of inquiry by the discovery of a +couple of horsemen racing from a distant ranch +toward the road. It was plain, even to the +stranger, that they intended to intercept the +stage, and Bill plied the lash with sudden vigor.</p> +<p>“I’ll give ’em a chase,” said he, grimly.</p> +<p>The other appeared a little alarmed, “What +are they—bandits?”</p> +<p>“Bandits!” sneered Bill. “Your eyesight is +piercing. Them’s <i>girls</i>.”</p> +<p>The traveler apologized. “My eyes aren’t very +good,” he said, hurriedly.</p> +<p>He was, however, quite justified in his mistake, +for both riders wore wide-rimmed sombreros +and rode astride at a furious pace, bandanas +fluttering, skirts streaming, and one was calling +in shrill command, “<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Oh, Bill</span>!”</p> +<p>As they neared the gate the driver drew up +with a word of surprise. “Why, howdy, girls, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +howdy!” he said, with an assumption of innocence. +“Were you wishin’ fer to speak to me?”</p> +<p>“Oh, shut up!” commanded one of the girls, +a round-faced, freckled romp. “You know perfectly +well that Berrie is going home to-day—we +told you all about it yesterday.”</p> +<p>“Sure thing!” exclaimed Bill. “I’d forgot all +about it.”</p> +<p>“Like nothin’!” exclaimed the maid. “You’ve +been countin’ the hours till you got here—I +know you.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile her companion had slipped from +her horse. “Well, good-by, Molly, wish I could +stay longer.”</p> +<p>“Good-by. Run down again.”</p> +<p>“I will. You come up.”</p> +<p>The young passenger sprang to the ground and +politely said: “May I help you in?”</p> +<p>Bill stared, the girl smiled, and her companion +called: “Be careful, Berrie, don’t hurt yourself, +the wagon might pitch.”</p> +<p>The youth, perceiving that he had made another +mistake, stammered an apology.</p> +<p>The girl perceived his embarrassment and +sweetly accepted his hand. “I am much obliged, +all the same.”</p> +<p>Bill shook with malicious laughter. “Out in +this country girls are warranted to jump clean +over a measly little hack like this,” he explained. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></p> +<p>The girl took a seat in the back corner of the +dusty vehicle, and Bill opened conversation with +her by asking what kind of a time she had been +having “in the East.”</p> +<p>“Fine,” said she.</p> +<p>“Did ye get as far back as my old town?”</p> +<p>“What town is that, Bill?”</p> +<p>“Oh, come off! You know I’m from Omaha.”</p> +<p>“No, I only got as far as South Bend.”</p> +<p>The picture which the girl had made as she +dashed up to the pasture gate (her hat-rim blown +away from her brown face and sparkling eyes), +united with the kindliness in her voice as she +accepted his gallant aid, entered a deep impression +on the tourist’s mind; but he did not +turn his head to look at her—perhaps he feared +Bill’s elbow quite as much as his guffaw—but +he listened closely, and by listening learned that +she had been “East” for several weeks, and also +that she was known, and favorably known, all +along the line, for whenever they met a team or +passed a ranch some one called out, “Hello, +Berrie!” in cordial salute, and the men, old and +young, were especially pleased to see her.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +<img src='images/illus-006.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 530px; height: 313px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 530px;'> +THE GIRL BEHIND HIM WAS A WONDROUS PART OF THIS WILD AND UNACCOUNTABLE COUNTRY<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Meanwhile the stage rose and fell over the +gigantic swells like a tiny boat on a monster sea, +while the sun blazed ever more fervently from +the splendid sky, and the hills glowed with ever-increasing +tumult of color. Through this land of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +color, of repose, of romance, the young traveler +rode, drinking deep of the germless air, feeling +that the girl behind him was a wondrous part of +this wild and unaccountable country.</p> +<p>He had no chance to study her face again till +the coach rolled down the hill to “Yancy’s,” +where they were to take dinner and change +horses.</p> +<p>Yancy’s ranch-house stood on the bank of a +fine stream which purled—in keen defiance of +the hot sun—over a gravel bed, so near to the +mountain snows that their coolness still lingered +in the ripples. The house, a long, low, log hut, +was fenced with antlers of the elk, adorned with +morning-glory vines, and shaded by lofty cottonwood-trees, +and its green grass-plat—after the +sun-smit hills of the long morning’s ride—was +very grateful to the Eastern man’s eyes.</p> +<p>With intent to show Bill that he did not greatly +fear his smiles, the youth sprang down and +offered a hand to assist his charming fellow-passenger +to alight; and she, with kindly understanding, +again accepted his aid—to Bill’s chagrin—and +they walked up the path side by side.</p> +<p>“This is all very new and wonderful to me,” +the young man said in explanation; “but I suppose +it’s quite commonplace to you—and Bill.”</p> +<p>“Oh no—it’s home!”</p> +<p>“You were born here?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></p> +<p>“No, I was born in the East; but I’ve lived +here ever since I was three years old.”</p> +<p>“By East you mean Kansas?”</p> +<p>“No, Missouri,” she laughed back at him.</p> +<p>She was taller than most women, and gave +out an air of fine unconscious health which made +her good to see, although her face was too broad +to be pretty. She smiled easily, and her teeth +were white and even. Her hand he noticed was +as strong as steel and brown as leather. Her +neck rose from her shoulders like that of an acrobat, +and she walked with the sense of security +which comes from self-reliant strength.</p> +<p>She was met at the door by old lady Yancy, +who pumped her hand up and down, exclaiming: +“My stars, I’m glad to see ye back! ’Pears like +the country is just naturally goin’ to the dogs +without you. The dance last Saturday was a +frost, so I hear, no snap to the fiddlin’, no gimp +to the jiggin’. It shorely was pitiful.”</p> +<p>Yancy himself, tall, grizzled, succinct, shook +her hand in his turn. “Ma’s right, girl, the +country needs ye. I’m scared every time ye +go away fer fear some feller will snap ye up.”</p> +<p>She laughed. “No danger. Well, how are +ye all, anyway?” she asked.</p> +<p>“All well, ‘ceptin’ me,” said the little old +woman. “I’m just about able to pick at my +vittles.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span></p> +<p>“She does her share o’ the work, and half the +cook’s besides,” volunteered Yancy.</p> +<p>“I know her,” retorted Berrie, as she laid off +her hat. “It’s me for a dip. Gee, but it’s dusty +on the road!”</p> +<p>The young tourist—he signed W. W. Norcross +in Yancy’s register—watched her closely and +listened to every word she spoke with an intensity +of interest which led Mrs. Yancy to +say, privately:</p> +<p>“’Pears like that young ‘lunger’ ain’t goin’ to +forgit you if he can help it.”</p> +<p>“What makes you think he’s a ‘lunger’?”</p> +<p>“Don’t haf to think. One look at him is +enough.”</p> +<p>Thereafter a softer light—the light of pity—shone +in the eyes of the girl. “Poor fellow, he +does look kind o’ peaked; but this climate will +bring him up to the scratch,” she added, with +optimistic faith in her beloved hills.</p> +<p>A moment later the down-coming stage pulled +in, loaded to the side-lines, and everybody on +it seemed to know Berea McFarlane. It was +hello here and hello there, and how are ye between, +with smacks from the women and open +cries of “pass it around” on the part of the men, +till Norcross marveled at the display.</p> +<p>“She seems a great favorite,” he observed to +Yancy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></p> +<p>“Who—Berrie? She’s the whole works up +at Bear Tooth. Good thing she don’t want to +go to Congress—she’d lay Jim Worthy on the +shelf.”</p> +<p>Berea’s popularity was not so remarkable as +her manner of receiving it. She took it all as +a sort of joke—a good, kindly joke. She shook +hands with her male admirers, and smacked the +cheeks of her female friends with an air of +modest deprecation. “Oh, you don’t mean it,” +was one of her phrases. She enjoyed this display +of affection, but it seemed not to touch her +deeply, and her impartial, humorous acceptance +of the courtship of the men was equally charming, +though this was due, according to remark, +to the claims of some rancher up the line.</p> +<p>She continued to be the theme of conversation +at the dinner-table and yet remained unembarrassed, +and gave back quite as good as she +received.</p> +<p>“If I was Cliff,” declared one lanky admirer, +“I’d be shot if I let you out of my sight. It +ain’t safe.”</p> +<p>She smiled broadly. “I don’t feel scared.”</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>you’re</i> all right! It’s the other feller—like +me—that gets hurt.”</p> +<p>“Don’t worry, you’re old enough and tough +enough to turn a steel-jacketed bullet.”</p> +<p>This raised a laugh, and Mrs. Yancy, who was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +waiting on the table, put in a word: “I’ll board +ye free, Berrie, if you’ll jest naturally turn up +here regular at meal-time. You do take the fellers’ +appetites. It’s the only time I make a +cent.”</p> +<p>To the Eastern man this was all very unrestrained +and deeply diverting. The people +seemed to know all about one another notwithstanding +the fact that they came from ranches +scattered up and down the stage line twenty, +thirty miles apart—to be neighbors in this +country means to be anywhere within a sixty-mile +ride—and they gossiped of the countryside +as minutely as the residents of a village in Wisconsin +discuss their kind. News was scarce.</p> +<p>The north-bound coach got away first, and +as the girl came out to take her place, Norcross +said: “Won’t you have my seat with the driver?”</p> +<p>She dropped her voice humorously. “No, +thank you, I can’t stand for Bill’s clack.”</p> +<p>Norcross understood. She didn’t relish the +notion of being so close to the frankly amorous +driver, who neglected no opportunity to be personal; +therefore, he helped her to her seat inside +and resumed his place in front.</p> +<p>Bill, now broadly communicative, minutely +detailed his tastes in food, horses, liquors, and +saddles in a long monologue which would have +been tiresome to any one but an imaginative +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +young Eastern student. Bill had a vast knowledge +of the West, but a distressing habit of +repetition. He was self-conscious, too, for the +reason that he was really talking for the benefit +of the girl sitting in critical silence behind him, +who, though he frequently turned to her for +confirmation of some of the more startling of +his statements, refused to be drawn into controversy.</p> +<p>In this informing way some ten miles were +traversed, the road climbing ever higher, and +the mountains to right and left increasing in +grandeur each hour, till of a sudden and in a deep +valley on the bank of another swift stream, they +came upon a squalid saloon and a minute post-office. +This was the town of Moskow.</p> +<p>Bill, lumbering down over the wheel, took a +bag of mail from the boot and dragged it into +the cabin. The girl rose, stretched herself, and +said: “This stagin’ is slow business. I’m +cramped. I’m going to walk on ahead.”</p> +<p>“May I go with you?” asked Norcross.</p> +<p>“Sure thing! Come along.”</p> +<p>As they crossed the little pole bridge which +spanned the flood, the tourist exclaimed: “What +exquisite water! It’s like melted opals.”</p> +<p>“Comes right down from the snow,” she answered, +impressed by the poetry of his simile.</p> +<p>He would gladly have lingered, listening to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +song of the water, but as she passed on, he +followed. The opposite hill was sharp and the +road stony, but as they reached the top the +young Easterner called out, “See the savins!”</p> +<p>Before them stood a grove of cedars, old, gray, +and drear, as weirdly impressive as the cacti in a +Mexican desert. Torn by winds, scarred by lightnings, +deeply rooted, tenacious as tradition, unlovely +as Egyptian mummies, fantastic, dwarfed +and blackened, these unaccountable creatures +clung to the ledges. The dead mingled horribly +with the living, and when the wind arose—the +wind that was robustly cheerful on the high hills—these +hags cried out with low moans of infinite +despair. It was as if they pleaded for water or +for deliverance from a life that was a kind of +death.</p> +<p>The pale young man shuddered. “What a +ghostly place!” he exclaimed, in a low voice. +“It seems the burial-place of a vanished race.”</p> +<p>Something in his face, some note in his voice +profoundly moved the girl. For the first time +her face showed something other than childish +good nature and a sense of humor. “I don’t +like these trees myself,” she answered. “They +look too much like poor old squaws.”</p> +<p>For a few moments the man and the maid +studied the forest of immemorial, gaunt, and +withered trees—bright, impermanent youth confronting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +time-defaced and wind-torn age. Then +the girl spoke: “Let’s get out of here. I shall +cry if we don’t.”</p> +<p>In a few moments the dolorous voices were left +behind, and the cheerful light of the plain reasserted +itself. Norcross, looking back down +upon the cedars, which at a distance resembled +a tufted, bronze-green carpet, musingly asked: +“What do you suppose planted those trees +there?”</p> +<p>The girl was deeply impressed by the novelty +of this query. “I never thought to ask. I +reckon they just grew.”</p> +<p>“No, there’s a reason for all these plantings,” +he insisted.</p> +<p>“We don’t worry ourselves much about such +things out here,” she replied, with charming +humor. “We don’t even worry about the +weather. We just take things as they come.”</p> +<p>They walked on talking with new intimacy. +“Where is your home?” he asked.</p> +<p>“A few miles out of Bear Tooth. You’re from +the East, Bill says—‘the far East,’ we call it.”</p> +<p>“From New Haven. I’ve just finished at Yale. +Have you ever been to New York?”</p> +<p>“Oh, good Lord, no!” she answered, as though +he had named the ends of the earth. “My +mother came from the South—she was born in +Kentucky—that accounts for my name, and my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +father is a Missourian. Let’s see, Yale is in the +state of Connecticut, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Connecticut is no longer a state; it is only a +suburb of New York City.”</p> +<p>“Is that so? My geography calls it ‘The +Nutmeg State.’”</p> +<p>“Your geography is behind the times. New +York has absorbed all of Connecticut and part of +Jersey.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s all the same to us out here. Your +whole country looks like the small end of a slice +of pie to us.”</p> +<p>“Have you ever been in a city?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I go to Denver once in a while, and +I saw St. Louis once; but I was only a yearling, +and don’t remember much about it. What are +you doing out here, if it’s a fair question?”</p> +<p>He looked away at the mountains. “I got +rather used up last spring, and my doctor said +I’d better come out here for a while and build +up. I’m going up to Meeker’s Mill. Do you +know where that is?”</p> +<p>“I know every stove-pipe in this park,” she +answered. “Joe Meeker is kind o’ related to +me—uncle by marriage. He lives about fifteen +miles over the hill from Bear Tooth.”</p> +<p>This fact seemed to bring them still closer +together. “I’m glad of that,” he said, pointedly. +“Perhaps I shall be permitted to see you now and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +again? I’m going to be lonesome for a while, +I’m afraid.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you believe it! Joe Meeker’s boys will +keep you interested,” she assured him.</p> +<p>The stage overtook them at this point, and +Bill surlily remarked: “If you’d been alone, +young feller, I’d ‘a’ give you a chase.” His resentment +of the outsider’s growing favor with the +girl was ludicrously evident.</p> +<p>As they rose into the higher levels the aspen +shook its yellowish leaves in the breeze, and the +purple foot-hills gained in majesty. Great new +peaks came into view on the right, and the +lofty cliffs of the Bear Tooth range loomed in +naked grandeur high above the blue-green of +the pines which clothed their sloping eastern +sides.</p> +<p>At intervals the road passed small log ranches +crouching low on the banks of creeks; but aside +from these—and the sparse animal life around +them—no sign of settlement could be seen. The +valley lay as it had lain for thousands of years, +repeating its forests as the meadows of the lower +levels send forth their annual grasses. Norcross +said to himself: “I have circled the track of +progress and have re-entered the border America, +where the stage-coach is still the one stirring +thing beneath the sun.”</p> +<p>At last the driver, with a note of exultation, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +called out: “Grab a root, everybody, it’s all the +way down-hill and time to feed.”</p> +<p>And so, as the dusk came over the mighty +spread of the hills to the east, and the peaks to +the west darkened from violet to purple-black, +the stage rumbled and rattled and rushed down +the winding road through thickening signs of +civilization, and just at nightfall rolled into the +little town of Bear Tooth, which is the eastern +gateway of the Ute Plateau.</p> +<p>Norcross had given a great deal of thought to +the young girl behind him, and thought had +deepened her charm. Her frankness, her humor, +her superb physical strength and her calm self-reliance +appealed to him, and the more dangerously, +because he was so well aware of his own +weakness and loneliness, and as the stage drew +up before the hotel, he fervently said: “I hope I +shall see you again?”</p> +<p>Before she could reply a man’s voice called: +“Hello, there!” and a tall fellow stepped up to +her with confident mien.</p> +<p>Norcross awkwardly shrank away. This was +her cowboy lover, of course. It was impossible +that so attractive a girl should be unattached, +and the knowledge produced in him a faint but +very definite pang of envy and regret.</p> +<p>The happy girl, even in the excitement of +meeting her lover, did not forget the stranger. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +She gave him her hand in parting, and again he +thrilled to its amazing power. It was small, +but it was like a steel clamp. “Stop in on your +way to Meeker’s,” she said, as a kindly man +would have done. “You pass our gate. My +father is Joseph McFarlane, the Forest Supervisor. +Good night.”</p> +<p>“Good night,” he returned, with sincere +liking.</p> +<p>“Who is that?” Norcross heard her companion +ask.</p> +<p>She replied in a low voice, but he overheard +her answer, “A poor ‘lunger,’ bound for +Meeker’s—and Kingdom Come, I’m afraid. +He seems a nice young feller, too.”</p> +<p>“They always wait till the last minute,” remarked +the rancher, with indifferent tone.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='II_A_RIDE_IN_THE_RAIN' id='II_A_RIDE_IN_THE_RAIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +<h2>II</h2> +<h3>A RIDE IN THE RAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>There are two Colorados within the boundaries +of the state of that name, distinct, almost +irreconcilable. One is a plain (smooth, dry, +monotonous), gently declining to the east, a +land of sage-brush, wheat-fields, and alfalfa +meadows—a rather commonplace region now, +given over to humdrum folk intent on digging a +living from the soil; but the other is an army of +peaks, a region of storms, a spread of dark and +tangled forests. In the one, shallow rivers trickle +on their sandy way to the Gulf of Mexico; from +the other, the waters rush, uniting to make the +mighty stream whose silt-laden floods are slowly +filling the Gulf of California.</p> +<p>If you stand on one of the great naked crests +which form the dividing wall, the rampart of +the plains, you can see the Colorado of tradition +to the west, still rolling in wave after wave of +stupendous altitudes, each range cutting into +the sky with a purple saw-tooth edge. The +landscape seems to contain nothing but rocks +and towering crags, a treasure-house for those +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +who mine. But this is illusive. Between these +purple heights charming valleys wind and meadows +lie in which rich grasses grow and cattle feed.</p> +<p>On certain slopes—where the devastating +miners have not yet played their relentless game—dark +forests rise to the high, bold summits of +the chiefest mountains, and it is to guard these +timbered tracts, growing each year more valuable, +that the government has established its +Forest Service to protect and develop the wealth-producing +power of the watersheds.</p> +<p>Chief among the wooded areas of this mighty +inland empire of crag and stream is the Bear +Tooth Forest, containing nearly eight hundred +thousand acres of rock and trees, whose seat +of administration is Bear Tooth Springs, the +small town in which our young traveler found +himself.</p> +<p>He carefully explained to the landlord of the +Cottage Hotel that he had never been in this +valley before, and that he was filled with astonishment +and delight of the scenery.</p> +<p>“Scenery! Yes, too much scenery. What we +want is settlers,” retorted the landlord, who was +shabby and sour and rather contemptuous, for +the reason that he considered Norcross a poor +consumptive, and a fool to boot—“one of those +chaps who wait till they are nearly dead, then +come out here expecting to live on climate.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p> +<p>The hotel was hardly larger than the log shanty +of a railway-grading camp; but the meat was +edible, and just outside the door roared Bear +Creek, which came down directly from Dome +Mountain, and the young Easterner went to +sleep beneath its singing that night. He should +have dreamed of the happy mountain girl, but +he did not; on the contrary, he imagined himself +back at college in the midst of innumerable +freshmen, yelling, “Bill McCoy, Bill McCoy!”</p> +<p>He woke a little bewildered by his strange surroundings, +and when he became aware of the +cheap bed, the flimsy wash-stand, the ugly wallpaper, +and thought how far he was from home +and friends, he not only sighed, he shivered. +The room was chill, the pitcher of water cold +almost to the freezing-point, and his joints +were stiff and painful from his ride. What +folly to come so far into the wilderness at this +time.</p> +<p>As he crawled from his bed and looked from +the window he was still further disheartened. +In the foreground stood a half dozen frame buildings, +graceless and cheap, without tree or shrub +to give shadow or charm of line—all was bare, +bleak, sere; but under his window the stream +was singing its glorious mountain song, and +away to the west rose the aspiring peaks from +which it came. Romance brooded in that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +shadow, and on the lower foot-hills the frost-touched +foliage glowed like a mosaic of jewels.</p> +<p>Dressing hurriedly he went down to the small +bar-room, whose litter of duffle-bags, guns, +saddles, and camp utensils gave evidence of the +presence of many hunters and fishermen. The +slovenly landlord was poring over a newspaper, +while a discouraged half-grown youth was sludging +the floor with a mop; but a cheerful clamor +from an open door at the back of the hall told +that breakfast was on.</p> +<p>Venturing over the threshold, Norcross found +himself seated at table with some five or six men +in corduroy jackets and laced boots, who were, +in fact, merchants and professional men from +Denver and Pueblo out for fish and such game +as the law allowed, and all in holiday mood. +They joked the waiter-girls, and joshed one another +in noisy good-fellowship, ignoring the slim +youth in English riding-suit, who came in with +an air of mingled melancholy and timidity and +took a seat at the lower corner of the long table.</p> +<p>The landlady, tall, thin, worried, and inquisitive, +was New England—Norcross recognized her +type even before she came to him with a question +on her lips. “So you’re from the East, are +you?”</p> +<p>“I’ve been at school there.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m glad to see you. My folks came +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +from York State. I don’t often get any one from +the <i>real</i> East. Come out to fish, I s’pose?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he replied, thinking this the easiest +way out.</p> +<p>“Well, they’s plenty of fishing—and they’s +plenty of air, not much of anything else.”</p> +<p>As he looked about the room, the tourist’s +eye was attracted by four young fellows seated +at a small table to his right. They wore rough +shirts of an olive-green shade, and their faces +were wind-scorched; but their voices held a +pleasant tone, and something in the manner of +the landlady toward them made them noticeable. +Norcross asked her who they were.</p> +<p>“They’re forestry boys.”</p> +<p>“Forestry boys?”</p> +<p>“Yes; the Supervisor’s office is here, and these +are his help.”</p> +<p>This information added to Norcross’s interest +and cheered him a little. He knew something of +the Forest Service, and had been told that many +of the rangers were college men. He resolved to +make their acquaintance. “If I’m to stay here +they will help me endure the exile,” he said.</p> +<p>After breakfast he went forth to find the post-office, +expecting a letter of instructions from +Meeker. He found nothing of the sort, and this +quite disconcerted him.</p> +<p>“The stage is gone,” the postmistress told him, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +“and you can’t get up till day after to-morrow. +You might reach Meeker by using the government +’phone, however.”</p> +<p>“Where will I find the government ’phone?”</p> +<p>“Down in the Supervisor’s office. They’re +very accommodating; they’ll let you use it, if +you tell them who you want to reach.”</p> +<p>It was impossible to miss the forestry building +for the reason that a handsome flag fluttered +above it. The door being open, Norcross perceived +from the threshold a young clerk at work +on a typewriter, while in a corner close by the +window another and older man was working +intently on a map.</p> +<p>“Is this the office of the Forest Supervisor?” +asked the youth.</p> +<p>The man at the machine looked up, and pleasantly +answered: “It is, but the Supervisor is not +in yet. Is there anything I can do for you?”</p> +<p>“It may be you can. I am on my way to +Meeker’s Mill for a little outing. Perhaps you +could tell me where Meeker’s Mill is, and how +I can best get there.”</p> +<p>The man at the map meditated. “It’s not +far, some eighteen or twenty miles; but it’s over +a pretty rough trail.”</p> +<p>“What kind of a place is it?”</p> +<p>“Very charming. You’ll like it. Real mountain +country.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></p> +<p>This officer was a plain-featured man of about +thirty-five, with keen and clear eyes. His voice, +though strongly nasal, possessed a note of manly +sincerity. As he studied his visitor, he smiled.</p> +<p>“You look brand-new—haven’t had time to +season-check, have you?”</p> +<p>“No; I’m a stranger in a strange land.”</p> +<p>“Out for your health?”</p> +<p>“Yes. My name is Norcross. I’m just getting +over a severe illness, and I’m up here to lay +around and fish and recuperate—if I can.”</p> +<p>“You can—you will. You can’t help it,” the +other assured him. “Join one of our surveying +crews for a week and I’ll mellow that suit of yours +and make a real mountaineer of you. I see you +wear a <i>Sigma Chi</i> pin. What was your school?”</p> +<p>“I am a ‘Son of Eli.’ Last year’s class.”</p> +<p>The other man displayed his fob. “I’m ten +classes ahead of you. My name is Nash. I’m +what they call an ‘expert.’ I’m up here doing +some estimating and surveying for a big ditch +they’re putting in. I was rather in hopes you +had come to join our ranks. We sons of Eli are +holding the conservation fort these days, and we +need help.”</p> +<p>“My knowledge of your work is rather vague,” +admitted Norcross. “My father is in the lumber +business; but his point of view isn’t exactly +yours.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></p> +<p>“He slays ’em, does he?”</p> +<p>“He did. He helped devastate Michigan.”</p> +<p>“After me the deluge! I know the kind. Why +not make yourself a sort of vicarious atonement?”</p> +<p>Norcross smiled. “I had not thought of that. +It would help some, wouldn’t it?”</p> +<p>“It certainly would. There’s no great money +in the work; but it’s about the most enlightened +of all the governmental bureaus.”</p> +<p>Norcross was strongly drawn to this forester, +whose tone was that of a highly trained specialist. +“I rode up on the stage yesterday with +Miss Berrie McFarlane.”</p> +<p>“The Supervisor’s daughter?”</p> +<p>“She seemed a fine Western type.”</p> +<p>“She’s not a type; she’s an individual. She +hasn’t her like anywhere I’ve gone. She cuts a +wide swath up here. Being an only child she’s +both son and daughter to McFarlane. She +knows more about forestry than her father. In +fact, half the time he depends on her judgment.”</p> +<p>Norcross was interested, but did not want to +take up valuable time. He said: “Will you let +me use your telephone to Meeker’s?”</p> +<p>“Very sorry, but our line is out of order. +You’ll have to wait a day or so—or use the mails. +You’re too late for to-day’s stage, but it’s only +a short ride across. Come outside and I’ll show +you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></p> +<p>Norcross followed him to the walk, and stood +in silence while his guide indicated the pass over +the range. It all looked very formidable to the +Eastern youth. Thunderous clouds hung low +upon the peaks, and the great crags to left and +right of the notch were stern and barren. “I +think I’ll wait for the stage,” he said, with candid +weakness. “I couldn’t make that trip alone.”</p> +<p>“You’ll have to take many such a ride over +that range in the <i>night</i>—if you join the service,” +Nash warningly replied.</p> +<p>As they were standing there a girl came galloping +up to the hitching-post and slid from +her horse. It was Berea McFarlane. “Good +morning, Emery,” she called to the surveyor. +“Good morning,” she nodded at Norcross. “How +do you find yourself this morning?”</p> +<p>“Homesick,” he replied, smilingly.</p> +<p>“Why so?”</p> +<p>“I’m disappointed in the town.”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with the town?”</p> +<p>“It’s so commonplace. I expected it to be—well, +different. It’s just like any other plains +town.”</p> +<p>Berrie looked round at the forlorn shops, the +irregular sidewalks, the grassless yards. “It +isn’t very pretty, that’s a fact; but you can always +forget it by just looking up at the high +country. When you going up to the mill?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p> +<p>“I don’t know. I haven’t had any word from +Meeker, and I can’t reach him by telephone.”</p> +<p>“I know, the line is short-circuited somewhere; +but they’ve sent a man out. He may close it +any minute.”</p> +<p>“Where’s the Supervisor?” asked Nash.</p> +<p>“He’s gone over to Moore’s cutting. How +are you getting on with those plats?”</p> +<p>“Very well. I’ll have ’em all in shape by +Saturday.”</p> +<p>“Come in and make yourself at home,” said +the girl to Norcross. “You’ll find the papers +two or three days old,” she smiled. “We never +know about anything here till other people have +forgotten it.”</p> +<p>Norcross followed her into the office, curious +to know more about her. She was so changed +from his previous conception of her that he was +puzzled. She had the directness and the brevity +of phrase of a business man, as she opened letters +and discussed their contents with the men.</p> +<p>“Truly she <i>is</i> different,” thought Norcross, and +yet she lost something by reason of the display +of her proficiency as a clerk. “I wish she would +leave business to some one else,” he inwardly +grumbled as he rose to go.</p> +<p>She looked up from her desk. “Come in +again later. We may be able to reach the mill.”</p> +<p>He thanked her and went back to his hotel, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +where he overhauled his outfit and wrote some +letters. His disgust of the town was lessened by +the presence of that handsome girl, and the hope +that he might see her at luncheon made him +impatient of the clock.</p> +<p>She did not appear in the dining-room, and +when Norcross inquired of Nash whether she +took her meals at the hotel or not, the expert replied: +“No, she goes home. The ranch is only +a few miles down the valley. Occasionally we +invite her, but she don’t think much of the +cooking.”</p> +<p>One of the young surveyors put in a word: +“I shouldn’t think she would. I’d ride ten miles +any time to eat one of Mrs. McFarlane’s dinners.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” agreed Nash with a reflective look in +his eyes. “She’s a mighty fine girl, and I join +the boys in wishing her better luck than marrying +Cliff Belden.”</p> +<p>“Is it settled that way?” asked Norcross.</p> +<p>“Yes; the Supervisor warned us all, but even +he never has any good words for Belden. He’s +a surly cuss, and violently opposed to the service. +His brother is one of the proprietors of +the Meeker mill, and they have all tried to bulldoze +Landon, our ranger over there. By the +way, you’ll like Landon. He’s a Harvard man, +and a good ranger. His shack is only a half-mile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +from Meeker’s house. It’s a pretty well-known +fact that Alec Belden is part proprietor +of a saloon over there that worries the Supervisor +worse than anything. Cliff swears he’s not connected +with it; but he’s more or less sympathetic +with the crowd.”</p> +<p>Norcross, already deeply interested in the +present and future of a girl whom he had met +for the first time only the day before, was quite +ready to give up his trip to Meeker. After the +men went back to work he wandered about the +town for an hour or two, and then dropped in +at the office to inquire if the telephone line had +been repaired.</p> +<p>“No, it’s still dead.”</p> +<p>“Did Miss McFarlane return?”</p> +<p>“No. She said she had work to do at home. +This is ironing-day, I believe.”</p> +<p>“She plays all the parts, don’t she?”</p> +<p>“She sure does; and she plays one part as +well as another. She can rope and tie a steer +or bake a cake as well as play the piano.”</p> +<p>“Don’t tell me she plays the piano!”</p> +<p>Nash laughed. “She does; but it’s one of +those you operate with your feet.”</p> +<p>“I’m relieved to hear that. She seems almost +weirdly gifted as it is.” After a moment he +broke in with: “What can a man do in this town?”</p> +<p>“Work, nothing else.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></p> +<p>“What do you do for amusement?”</p> +<p>“Once in a while there is a dance in the hall +over the drug-store, and on Sunday you can listen +to a wretched sermon in the log church. The +rest of the time you work or loaf in the saloons—or +read. Old Nature has done her part here. +But man—! Ever been in the Tyrol?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Well, some day the people of the plains will +have sense enough to use these mountains, these +streams, the way they do over there.”</p> +<p>It required only a few hours for Norcross to +size up the valley and its people. Aside from +Nash and his associates, and one or two families +connected with the mill to the north, the villagers +were poor, thriftless, and uninteresting. They +were lacking in the picturesque quality of ranchers +and miners, and had not yet the grace of +town-dwellers. They were, indeed, depressingly +nondescript.</p> +<p>Early on the second morning he went to the +post-office—which was also the telephone station—to +get a letter or message from Meeker. He +found neither; but as he was standing in the door +undecided about taking the stage, Berea came +into town riding a fine bay pony, and leading a +blaze-face buckskin behind her.</p> +<p>Her face shone cordially, as she called out: +“Well, how do you stack up this morning?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></p> +<p>“Tip-top,” he answered, in an attempt to +match her cheery greeting.</p> +<p>“Do you like our town better?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit! But the hills are magnificent.”</p> +<p>“Anybody turned up from the mill?”</p> +<p>“No, I haven’t heard a word from there. The +telephone is still out of commission.”</p> +<p>“They can’t locate the break. Uncle Joe sent +word by the stage-driver asking us to keep an eye +out for you and send you over. I’ve come to +take you over myself.”</p> +<p>“That’s mighty good of you; but it’s a good +deal to ask.”</p> +<p>“I want to see Uncle Joe on business, anyhow, +and you’ll like the ride better than the journey +by stage.”</p> +<p>Leaving the horses standing with their bridle-reins +hanging on the ground, she led the way to +the office.</p> +<p>“When father comes in, tell him where I’ve +gone, and send Mr. Norcross’s packs by the first +wagon. Is your outfit ready?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Not quite. I can get it ready soon.”</p> +<p>He hurried away in pleasant excitement, and +in twenty minutes was at the door ready to ride.</p> +<p>“You’d better take my bay,” said Berea. +“Old Paint-face there is a little notional.”</p> +<p>Norcross approached his mount with a caution +which indicated that he had at least been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +instructed in range-horse psychology, and as he +gathered his reins together to mount, Berrie +remarked:</p> +<p>“I hope you’re saddle-wise.”</p> +<p>“I had a few lessons in a riding-school,” he +replied, modestly.</p> +<p>Young Downing approached the girl with a +low-voiced protest: “You oughtn’t to ride old +Paint. He nearly pitched the Supervisor the +other day.”</p> +<p>“I’m not worried,” she said, and swung to her +saddle.</p> +<p>The ugly beast made off in a tearing sidewise +rush, but she smilingly called back: “All set.” +And Norcross followed her in high admiration.</p> +<p>Eventually she brought her bronco to subjection, +and they trotted off together along the +wagon-road quite comfortably. By this time +the youth had forgotten his depression, his homesickness +of the morning. The valley was again +enchanted ground. Its vistas led to lofty +heights. The air was regenerative, and though +a part of this elation was due, no doubt, to the +power of his singularly attractive guide, he laid +it discreetly to the climate.</p> +<p>After shacking along between some rather +sorry fields of grain for a mile or two, Berea +swung into a side-trail. “I want you to meet +my mother,” she said. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></p> +<p>The grassy road led to a long, one-story, half-log, +half-slab house, which stood on the bank +of a small, swift, willow-bordered stream.</p> +<p>“This is our ranch,” she explained. “All the +meadow in sight belongs to us.”</p> +<p>The young Easterner looked about in astonishment. +Not a tree bigger than his thumb gave +shade. The gate of the cattle corral stood but +a few feet from the kitchen door, and rusty beef-bones, +bleaching skulls, and scraps of sun-dried +hides littered the ground or hung upon the fence. +Exteriorly the low cabin made a drab, depressing +picture; but as he alighted—upon Berea’s invitation—and +entered the house, he was met by +a sweet-faced, brown-haired little woman in a +neat gown, whose bearing was not in the least +awkward or embarrassed.</p> +<p>“This is Mr. Norcross, the tourist I told you +about,” explained Berrie.</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane extended her small hand with +friendly impulse. “I’m very glad to meet you, +sir. Are you going to spend some time at the +Mill?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I have a letter to Mr. Meeker +from a friend of mine who hunted with him last +year—a Mr. Sutler.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Sutler! Oh, we know him very well. +Won’t you sit down?”</p> +<p>The interior of the house was not only well +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +kept, but presented many evidences of refinement. +A mechanical piano stood against the +log wall, and books and magazines, dog-eared +with use, littered the table; and Norcross, feeling +the force of Nash’s half-expressed criticism of his +“superior,” listened intently to Mrs. McFarlane’s +apologies for the condition of the farmyard.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Berea, sharply, “if we’re to reach +Uncle Joe’s for dinner we’d better be scratching +the hills.” And to her mother she added: “I’ll +pull in about dark.”</p> +<p>The mother offered no objection to her daughter’s +plan, and the young people rode off together +directly toward the high peaks to the +east.</p> +<p>“I’m going by way of the cut-off,” Berrie explained; +and Norcross, content and unafraid, +nodded in acquiescence. “Here is the line,” she +called a few minutes later, pointing at a sign +nailed to a tree at the foot of the first wooded hill.</p> +<p>The notice, printed in black ink on a white +square of cloth, proclaimed this to be the boundary +of the Bear Tooth National Forest, and +pleaded with all men to be watchful of fires. +Its tone was not at all that of a strong government; +it was deprecatory.</p> +<p>The trail, hardly more than a wood road, grew +wilder and lonelier as they climbed. Cattle fed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +on the hillsides in scattered bands like elk. Here +and there a small cabin stood on the bank of a +stream; but, for the most part, the trail mounted +the high slopes in perfect solitude.</p> +<p>The girl talked easily and leisurely, reading +the brands of the ranchers, revealing the number +of cattle they owned, quite as a young farmer +would have done. She seemed not to be embarrassed +in the slightest degree by the fact that +she was guiding a strange man over a lonely road, +and gave no outward sign of special interest in +him till she suddenly turned to ask: “What kind +of a slicker—I mean a raincoat—did you bring?”</p> +<p>He looked blank. “I don’t believe I brought +any. I’ve a leather shooting-jacket, however.”</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at +the sky. “We’re in for a storm. You’d ought ’o +have a slicker, no fancy ‘raincoat,’ but a real +old-fashioned cow-puncher’s oilskin. They make +a business of shedding rain. Leather’s no good, +neither is canvas; I’ve tried ’em all.”</p> +<p>She rode on for a few minutes in silence, as if +disgusted with his folly, but she was really worrying +about him. “Poor chap,” she said to herself. +“He can’t stand a chill. I ought to have thought +of his slicker myself. He’s helpless as a baby.”</p> +<p>They were climbing fast now, winding upward +along the bank of a stream, and the sky had +grown suddenly gray, and the woodland path was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +dark and chill. The mountains were not less +beautiful; but they were decidedly less amiable, +and the youth shivered, casting an apprehensive +eye at the thickening clouds.</p> +<p>Berea perceived something of his dismay, and, +drawing rein, dismounted. Behind her saddle +was a tightly rolled bundle which, being untied +and shaken out, proved to be a horseman’s rainproof +oilskin coat. “Put this on!” she commanded.</p> +<p>“Oh no,” he protested, “I can’t take your +coat.”</p> +<p>“Yes you can! You must! Don’t you worry +about me, I’m used to weather. Put this on +over your jacket and all. You’ll need it. Rain +won’t hurt <i>me</i>; but it will just about finish +you.”</p> +<p>The worst of this lay in its truth, and Norcross +lost all his pride of sex for the moment. A wetting +would not dim this girl’s splendid color, nor +reduce her vitality one degree, while to him it +might be a death-warrant. “You could throw +me over my own horse,” he admitted, in a kind +of bitter admiration, and slipped the coat on, +shivering with cold as he did so.</p> +<p>“You think me a poor excuse of a trailer, don’t +you?” he said, ruefully, as the thunder began to +roll.</p> +<p>“You’ve got to be all made over new,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +replied, tolerantly. “Stay here a year and you’ll +be able to stand anything.”</p> +<p>Remounting, she again led the way with cheery +cry. The rain came dashing down in fitful, +misty streams; but she merely pulled the rim of +her sombrero closer over her eyes, and rode +steadily on, while he followed, plunged in gloom +as cold and gray as the storm. The splitting +crashes of thunder echoed from the high peaks +like the voices of siege-guns, and the lightning +stabbed here and there as though blindly seeking +some hidden foe. Long veils of falling water +twisted and trailed through the valleys with +swishing roar.</p> +<p>“These mountain showers don’t last long,” +the girl called back, her face shining like a rose. +“We’ll get the sun in a few minutes.”</p> +<p>And so it turned out. In less than an hour +they rode into the warm light again, and in spite +of himself Norcross returned her smile, though +he said: “I feel like a selfish fool. You are +soaked.”</p> +<p>“Hardly wet through,” she reassured him. +“My jacket and skirt turn water pretty well. +I’ll be dry in a jiffy. It does a body good to be +wet once in a while.”</p> +<p>The shame of his action remained; but a closer +friendship was established, and as he took off +the coat and handed it back to her, he again +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +apologized. “I feel like a pig. I don’t see how +I came to do it. The thunder and the chill +scared me, that’s the truth of it. You hypnotized +me into taking it. How wet you <i>are</i>!” +he exclaimed, remorsefully. “You’ll surely take +cold.”</p> +<p>“I never take cold,” she returned. “I’m used +to all kinds of weather. Don’t you bother about +me.”</p> +<p>Topping a low divide the youth caught a +glimpse of the range to the southeast, which +took his breath. “Isn’t that superb!” he exclaimed. +“It’s like the shining roof of the world!”</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s the Continental Divide,” she +confirmed, casually; but the lyrical note which +he struck again reached her heart. The men she +knew had so few words for the beautiful in life. +She wondered whether this man’s illness had +given him this refinement or whether it was +native to his kind. “I’m glad he took my coat,” +was her thought.</p> +<p>She pushed on down the slope, riding hard, +but it was nearly two o’clock when they drew +up at Meeker’s house, which was a long, low, +stone structure built along the north side of the +road. The place was distinguished not merely +by its masonry, but also by its picket fence, +which had once been whitewashed. Farm-wagons +of various degrees of decay stood by the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +gate, and in the barn-yard plows and harrows—deeply +buried by the weeds—were rusting forlornly +away. A little farther up the stream the +tall pipe of a sawmill rose above the firs.</p> +<p>A pack of dogs of all sizes and signs came clamoring +to the fence, followed by a big, slovenly +dressed, red-bearded man of sixty or thereabouts.</p> +<p>“Hello, Uncle Joe,” called the girl, in offhand +boyish fashion. “How are you <i>to-day</i>?”</p> +<p>“Howdy, girl,” answered Meeker, gravely. +“What brings you up here this time?”</p> +<p>She laughed. “Here’s a boarder who wants +to learn how to raise cattle.”</p> +<p>Meeker’s face lightened. “I reckon you’re +Mr. Norcross? I’m glad to see ye. Light off +and make yourself to home. Turn your horses +into the corral, the boys will feed ’em.”</p> +<p>“Am I in America?” Norcross asked himself, +as he followed the slouchy old rancher into the +unkempt yard. “This certainly is a long way +from New Haven.”</p> +<p>Without ceremony Meeker led his guests directly +into the dining-room, a long and rather +narrow room, wherein a woman and six or seven +roughly dressed young men were sitting at a +rudely appointed table.</p> +<p>“Earth and seas!” exclaimed Mrs. Meeker. +“Here’s Berrie, and I’ll bet that’s Sutler’s friend, +our boarder.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p> +<p>“That’s what, mother,” admitted her husband. +“Berrie brought him up.”</p> +<p>“You’d ought ’o gone for him yourself, you +big lump,” she retorted.</p> +<p>Mrs. Meeker, who was as big as her husband, +greeted Norcross warmly, and made a place for +him beside her own chair.</p> +<p>“Highst along there, boys, and give the company +a chance,” she commanded, sharply. “Our +dinner’s turrible late to-day.”</p> +<p>The boys—they were in reality full-grown cubs +of eighteen or twenty—did as they were bid with +much noise, chaffing Berrie with blunt humor. +The table was covered with a red oil-cloth, +and set with heavy blue-and-white china. The +forks were two-tined, steel-pronged, and not +very polished, and the food was of the simplest +sort; but the girl seemed at home there—as she +did everywhere—and was soon deep in a discussion +of the price of beef, and whether it was +advisable to ship now or wait a month.</p> +<p>Meeker read Sutler’s letter, which Norcross +had handed him, and, after deliberation, remarked: +“All right, we’ll do the best we can +for you, Mr. Norcross; but we haven’t any fancy +accommodations.”</p> +<p>“He don’t expect any,” replied Berrie. “What +he needs is a little roughing it.”</p> +<p>“There’s plinty of that to be had,” said one of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +the herders, who sat below the salt. “’is +the soft life I’m nadin’.”</p> +<p>“Pat’s strong on soft jobs,” said another; and +Berea joined the laugh which followed this pointless +joke. She appeared to be one of them, and +it troubled Norcross a little. She had so little +the sex feeling and demanded so few of the rights +and privileges of a girl. The men all admired +her, that was evident, almost too evident, and +one or two of the older men felt the charm of her +young womanhood too deeply even to meet her +eyes; but of this Norcross was happily ignorant. +Already in these two days he had acquired a distinct +sense of proprietorship in her, a feeling +which made him jealous of her good name.</p> +<p>Meeker, it turned out, was an Englishman by +way of Canada, and this was his second American +wife. His first had been a sister to Mrs. McFarlane. +He was a man of much reading—of the +periodical sort—and the big sitting-room was +littered with magazines both English and American, +and his talk abounded in radical and rather +foolish utterances. Norcross considered it the +most disorderly home he had ever seen, and yet +it was not without a certain dignity. The rooms +were large and amply provided with furniture +of a very mixed and gaudy sort, and the table +was spread with abundance.</p> +<p>One of the lads, Frank Meeker, a dark, intense +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +youth of about twenty, was Berea’s full cousin. +The others were merely hired hands, but they +all eyed the new-comer with disfavor. The fact +that Berrie had brought him and that she seemed +interested in him added to the effect of the smart +riding-suit which he wore. “I’d like to roll him +in the creek,” muttered one of them to his +neighbor.</p> +<p>This dislike Berrie perceived—in some degree—and +to Frank she privately said: “Now +you fellows have got to treat Mr. Norcross +right. He’s been very sick.”</p> +<p>Frank maliciously grinned. “Oh, we’ll treat +him <i>right</i>. We won’t do a thing to him!”</p> +<p>“Now, Frank,” she warned, “if you try any +of your tricks on him you’ll hear from me.”</p> +<p>“Why all this worry on your part?” he asked, +keenly. “How long since you found him?”</p> +<p>“We rode up on the stage day before yesterday, +and he seemed so kind o’ blue and lonesome +I couldn’t help trying to chirk him up.”</p> +<p>“How will Cliff take all this chirking business?”</p> +<p>“Cliff ain’t my guardian—yet,” she laughingly +responded. “Mr. Norcross is a college man, +and not used to our ways—”</p> +<p>“<i>Mister</i> Norcross—what’s his front name?”</p> +<p>“Wayland.”</p> +<p>He snorted. “Wayland! If he gets past us +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +without being called ‘pasty’ he’s in luck. He’s +a ‘lunger’ if there ever was one.”</p> +<p>The girl was shrewd enough to see that the +more she sought to soften the wind to her Eastern +tenderfoot the more surely he was to be +shorn, so she gave over her effort in that direction, +and turned to the old folks. To Mrs. +Meeker she privately said: “Mr. Norcross ain’t +used to rough ways, and he’s not very rugged, +you ought ’o kind o’ favor him for a while.”</p> +<p>The girl herself did not understand the vital +and almost painful interest which this young +man had roused in her. He was both child and +poet to her, and as she watched him trying to +make friends with the men, her indignation rose +against their clownish offishness. She understood +fully that his neat speech, his Eastern accent, +together with his tailor-cut clothing and +the delicacy of his table manners, would surely +mark him for slaughter among the cow-hands, +and the wish to shield him made her face graver +than anybody had ever seen it.</p> +<p>“I don’t feel right in leaving you here,” she +said, at last; “but I must be ridin’.” And while +Meeker ordered her horse brought out, she walked +to the gate with Norcross at her side.</p> +<p>“I’m tremendously obliged to you,” he said, +and his voice was vibrant. “You have been +most kind. How can I repay you?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></p> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” she replied, in true Western +fashion. “I wanted to see the folks up here, +anyhow. This is no jaunt at all for me.” And, +looking at her powerful figure, and feeling the +trap-like grip of her cinch hand, he knew she +spoke the truth.</p> +<p>Frank had saddled his own horse, and was +planning to ride over the hill with her; but to +this she objected. “I’m going to leave Pete +here for Mr. Norcross to ride,” she said, “and +there’s no need of your going.”</p> +<p>Frank’s face soured, and with instant perception +of the effect her refusal might have on the +fortunes of the stranger, she reconsidered.</p> +<p>“Oh, come along! I reckon you want to get +shut of some mean job.”</p> +<p>And so she rode away, leaving her ward to adjust +himself to his new and strange surroundings +as best he could, and with her going the whole +valley darkened for the convalescent.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='III_WAYLAND_RECEIVES_A_WARNING' id='III_WAYLAND_RECEIVES_A_WARNING'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +<h2>III</h2> +<h3>WAYLAND RECEIVES A WARNING</h3> +</div> + +<p>Distance is no barrier to gossip. It +amazed young Norcross to observe how +minutely the ranchers of the valley followed one +another’s most intimate domestic affairs. Not +merely was each man in full possession of the +color and number of every calf in his neighbor’s +herd, it seemed that nothing could happen in +the most remote cabin and remain concealed. +Any event which broke the monotony of their +life loomed large, and in all matters of courtship +curiosity was something more than keen, it was +remorseless.</p> +<p>Living miles apart, and riding the roads but +seldom, these lonely gossips tore to tatters every +scrap of rumor. No citizen came or went without +being studied, characterized, accounted for, +and every woman was scrutinized as closely as +a stray horse, and if there was within her, the +slightest wayward impulse some lawless centaur +came to know it, to exult over it, to make test +of it. Her every word, her minutest expression +of a natural coquetry was enlarged upon as a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +sign of weakness, of yielding. Every personable +female was the focus of a natural desire, intensified +by lonely brooding on the part of the men.</p> +<p>It was soon apparent to the Eastern observer +that the entire male population for thirty miles +around not only knew McFarlane’s girl; but +that every unmarried man—and some who were +both husbands and fathers—kept a deeply interested +eye upon her daily motion, and certain +shameless ones openly boasted among their fellows +of their intention to win her favor, while +the shy ones reveled in secret exultation over +every chance meeting with her. She was the +topic of every lumber-camp, and the shining lure +of every dance to which the ranch hands often +rode over long and lonely trails.</p> +<p>Part of this intense interest was due, naturally, +to the scarcity of desirable women, but a larger +part was called out by Berea’s frank freedom of +manner. Her ready camaraderie was taken for +carelessness, and the candid grip of her hand was +often misunderstood; and yet most of the men +respected her, and some feared her. After her +avowed choice of Clifford Belden they all kept +aloof, for he was hot-tempered and formidably +swift to avenge an insult.</p> +<p>At the end of a week Norcross found himself +restless and discontented with the Meekers. He +was tired of fishing, tired of the old man’s endless +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +arguments, and tired of the obscene cow-hands. +The men around the mill did not interest +him, and their Saturday night spree at the +saloon disgusted him. The one person who +piqued his curiosity was Landon, the ranger who +was stationed not far away, and who could be +seen occasionally riding by on a handsome black +horse. There was something in his bearing, in +his neat and serviceable drab uniform, which +attracted the convalescent, and on Sunday morning +he decided to venture a call, although Frank +Meeker had said the ranger was a “grouch.”</p> +<p>His cabin, a neat log structure, stood just +above the road on a huge natural terrace of +grassy boulders, and the flag which fluttered from +a tall staff before it could be seen for several +miles—the bright sign of federal control, the +symbol of law and order, just as the saloon and +the mill were signs of lawless vice and destructive +greed. Around the door flowers bloomed and +kittens played; while at the door of the dive +broken bottles, swarms of flies, and heaps of +refuse menaced every corner, and the mill immured +itself in its own debris like a foul beast.</p> +<p>It was strangely moving to come upon this +flower-like place and this garden in the wilderness. +A spring, which crept from the high wall +back of “the station” (as these ranger headquarters +are called), gave its delicious water into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +several winding ditches, trickled musically down +the other side of the terrace in little life-giving +cascades, and so finally, reunited in a single current, +fell away into the creek. It was plain that +loving care, and much of it, had been given to +this tiny system of irrigation.</p> +<p>The cabin’s interior pleased Wayland almost as +much as the garden. It was built of pine logs +neatly matched and hewed on one side. There +were but two rooms—one which served as sleeping-chamber +and office, and one which was at +once kitchen and dining-room. In the larger +room a quaint fireplace with a flat arch, a bunk, a +table supporting a typewriter, and several shelves +full of books made up the furnishing. On the +walls hung a rifle, a revolver in its belt, a couple +of uniforms, and a yellow oilskin raincoat.</p> +<p>The ranger, spurred and belted, with his cuffs +turned back, was pounding the typewriter when +Wayland appeared at the open door; but he rose +with grave courtesy. “Come in,” he said, and +his voice had a pleasant inflection.</p> +<p>“I’m interrupting.”</p> +<p>“Nothing serious, just a letter. There’s no +hurry. I’m always glad of an excuse to rest +from this job.” He was at once keenly interested +in his visitor, for he perceived in him the gentleman +and, of course, the alien.</p> +<p>Wayland, with something of the feeling of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +civilian reporting to an officer, explained his +presence in the neighborhood.</p> +<p>“I’ve heard of you,” responded the ranger, +“and I’ve been hoping you’d look in on me. The +Supervisor’s daughter has just written me to +look after you. She said you were not very well.”</p> +<p>Again Wayland protested that he was not a +consumptive, only a student who needed mountain +air; but he added: “It is very kind of Miss +McFarlane to think of me.”</p> +<p>“Oh, she thinks of everybody,” the young fellow +declared. “She’s one of the most unselfish +creatures in the world.”</p> +<p>Something in the music of this speech, and +something in the look of the ranger’s eyes, +caused Wayland to wonder if here were not +still another of Berrie’s subjects. He became +certain of it as the young officer went on, with +pleasing frankness, and it was not long before +he had conveyed to Wayland his cause for sadness. +“She’s engaged to a man that is not her +equal. In a certain sense no man is her equal; +but Belden is a pretty hard type, and I believe, +although I can’t prove it, that he is part owner of +the saloon over there.”</p> +<p>“How does that saloon happen to be here?”</p> +<p>“It’s on patented land—a so-called ‘placer +claim’—experts have reported against it. McFarlane +has protested against it, but nothing is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +done. The mill is also on deeded land, and +together they are a plague spot. I’m their +enemy, and they know it; and they’ve threatened +to burn me out. Of course they won’t do that, +but they’re ready to play any kind of trick on me.”</p> +<p>“I can well believe that, for I am getting my +share of practical jokes at Meeker’s.”</p> +<p>“They’re not a bad lot over there—only just +rowdy. I suppose they’re initiating you,” said +Landon.</p> +<p>“I didn’t come out here to be a cowboy,” responded +Norcross. “But Frank Meeker seems +to be anxious to show me all the good old cowboy +courtesies. On Monday he slipped a burr +under my horse’s saddle, and I came near to +having my neck broken. Then he or some one +else concealed a frog in my bed, and fouled my +hair-brushes. In fact, I go to sleep each night +in expectation of some new attack; but the air +and the riding are doing me a great deal of good, +and so I stay.”</p> +<p>“Come and bunk with me,” urged Landon. +“I’ll be glad to have you. I get terribly lonesome +here sometimes, although I’m supposed +to have the best station in the forest. Bring +your outfit and stay as long as you like.”</p> +<p>This offer touched Norcross deeply. “That’s +very kind of you; but I guess I’ll stick it out. +I hate to let those hoodlums drive me out.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p> +<p>“All right, but come and see me often. I get +so blue some days I wonder what’s the use of it +all. There’s one fatal condition about this +ranger business—it’s a solitary job, it cuts out +marriage for most of us. Many of the stations are +fifteen or twenty miles from a post-office; then, +too, the lines of promotion are few. I guess I’ll +have to get out, although I like the work. Come +in any time and take a snack with me.”</p> +<p>Thereafter Wayland spent nearly every day +with the ranger, either in his cabin or riding +the trail, and during these hours confidence grew +until at last Landon confessed that his unrest +arose from his rejection by Berrie.</p> +<p>“She was not to blame. She’s so kind and +free with every one, I thought I had a chance. +I was conceited enough to feel sorry for the other +fellows, and now I can’t even feel sorry for myself. +I’m just dazed and hanging to the ropes. +She was mighty gentle about it—you know how +sunny her face is—well, she just got grave and +kind o’ faint-voiced, and said—Oh, you know +what she said! She let me know there was another +man. I didn’t ask her who, and when I +found out, I lost my grip entirely. At first I +thought I’d resign and get out of the country; +but I couldn’t do it—I can’t yet. The chance +of seeing her—of hearing from her once in a +while—she never writes except on business for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +her father; but—you’ll laugh—I can’t see her +signature without a tremor.” He smiled, but +his eyes were desperately sad. “I ought to resign, +because I can’t do my work as well as I +ought to. As I ride the trail I’m thinking of +her. I sit here half the night writing imaginary +letters to her. And when I see her, and she +takes my hand in hers—you know what a hand +she has—my mind goes blank. Oh, I’m crazy! +I admit it. I didn’t know such a thing could +happen to me; but it has.”</p> +<p>“I suppose it’s being alone so much,” Wayland +started to argue, but the other would not have +it so.</p> +<p>“No, it’s the girl herself. She’s not only beautiful +in body, she’s all sweetness and sincerity +in mind. There isn’t a petty thing about her. +And her happy smile—do you know, I have +times when I resent that smile? How can she be +so happy without me? That’s crazy, too, but I +think it, sometimes. Then I think of the time +when she will not smile—when that brute Belden +will begin to treat her as he does his sisters—then +I get murderous.”</p> +<p>As Wayland listened to this outpouring he +wondered at the intensity of the forester’s passion. +He marveled, too, at Berrie’s choice, for +there was something fine and high in Landon’s +worship. A college man with a mining engineer’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +training, he should go high in the service. “He +made the mistake of being too precipitate as a +lover,” concluded Wayland. “His forthright +courtship repelled her.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile his own troubles increased. Frank’s +dislike had grown to an impish vindictiveness, +and if the old man Meeker had any knowledge of +his son’s deviltries, he gave no sign. Mrs. +Meeker, however, openly reproved the scamp.</p> +<p>“You ought to be ashamed of worrying a sick +man,” she protested, indignantly.</p> +<p>“He ain’t so sick as all that; and, besides, he +needs the starch taken out of him,” was the +boy’s pitiless answer.</p> +<p>“I don’t know why I stay,” Wayland wrote +to Berea. “I’m disgusted with the men up +here—they’re all tiresome except Landon—but +I hate to slink away, and besides, the country is +glorious. I’d like to come down and see you +this week. May I do so? Please send word +that I may.”</p> +<p>She did not reply, and wondering whether she +had received his letter or not, he mounted his +horse one beautiful morning and rode away up the +trail with a sense of elation, of eager joy, with intent +to call upon her at the ranch as he went by.</p> +<p>Hardly had he vanished among the pines when +Clifford Belden rode in from his ranch on Hat +Creek, and called at Meeker’s for his mail. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></p> +<p>Frank Meeker was in the office, and as he +both feared and disliked this big contemptuous +young cattleman, he set to work to make him +jealous.</p> +<p>“You want to watch this one-lung boarder +of ours,” he warned, with a grin. “He’s been +writing to Berrie, and he’s just gone down to +see her. His highfalutin ways, and his fine +white hands, have put her on the slant.”</p> +<p>Belden fixed a pair of cold, gray-blue eyes on +his tormentor, and said: “You be careful of +your tongue or I’ll put <i>you</i> on the slant.”</p> +<p>“I’m her own cousin,” retorted Frank. “I +reckon I can say what I please about her. I +don’t want that dude Easterner to cut you out. +She guided him over here, and gave him her +slicker to keep him dry, and I can see she’s +terribly taken with him. She’s headstrong as a +mule, once she gets started, and if she takes a +notion to Norcross it’s all up with you.”</p> +<p>“I’m not worrying,” retorted Belden.</p> +<p>“You’d better be. I was down there the +other day, and it ’peared like she couldn’t talk +of anything else but Mister Norcross, Mister +Norcross, till I was sick of his name.”</p> +<p>An hour later Belden left the mill and set off +up the trail behind Norcross, his face fallen into +stern lines. Frank writhed in delight. “There +goes Cliff, hot under the collar, chasing Norcross. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +If he finds out that Berrie is interested in him, +he’ll just about wring that dude’s neck.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile Wayland was riding through the +pass with lightening heart, his thought dwelling +on the girl at the end of his journey. Aside from +Landon and Nash, she was the one soul in all +this mountain world in whom he took the slightest +interest. Her pity still hurt him, but he +hoped to show her such change of color, such +gain in horsemanship, that she could no longer +consider him an invalid. His mind kept so +closely to these interior matters that he hardly +saw the path, but his horse led him safely back +with precise knowledge and eager haste.</p> +<p>As he reached the McFarlane ranch it seemed +deserted of men, but a faint column of smoke +rising from the roof of the kitchen gave evidence +of a cook, and at his knock Berrie came to the +door with a boyish word of frank surprise and +pleasure. She was dressed in a blue-and-white +calico gown with the collar turned in and the +sleeves rolled up; but she seemed quite unembarrassed, +and her pleasure in his coming quite +repaid him for his long and tiresome ride.</p> +<p>“I’ve been wondering about you,” she said. +“I’m mighty glad to see you. How do you +stand it?”</p> +<p>“You got my letter?”</p> +<p>“I did—and I was going to write and tell you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +to come down, but I’ve had some special work +to do at the office.”</p> +<p>She took the horse’s rein from him, and together +they started toward the stables. As she +stepped over and around the old hoofs and meat-bones—which +littered the way—without comment, +Wayland again wondered at her apparent +failure to realize the disgusting disorder of the +yard. “Why don’t she urge the men to clean +it up?” he thought.</p> +<p>This action of stabling the horses—a perfectly +innocent and natural one for her—led one +of the hands, a coarse-minded sneak, to watch +them from a corral. “I wonder how Cliff would +like that?” he evilly remarked.</p> +<p>Berea was frankly pleased to see Wayland, +and spoke of the improvement which had taken +place in him. “You’re looking fine,” she said, +as they were returning to the house. “But how +do you get on with the boys?”</p> +<p>“Not very well,” he admitted. “They seem +to have it in for me. It’s a constant fight.”</p> +<p>“How about Frank?”</p> +<p>“He’s the worst of them all. He never speaks +to me that he doesn’t insult me. I don’t know +why. I’ve tried my best to get into his good +graces, but I can’t. Your uncle I like, and Mrs. +Meeker is very kind; but all the others seem to +be sworn enemies. I don’t think I could stand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +it if it weren’t for Landon. I spend a good deal +of time with him.”</p> +<p>Her face grew grave. “I reckon you got +started wrong,” she said at last. “They’ll like +you better when you get browned up, and your +clothes get dirty—you’re a little too fancy for +them just now.”</p> +<p>“But you see,” he said, “I’m not trying for +their admiration. I haven’t the slightest ambition +to shine as a cow-puncher, and if those fellows +are fair samples I don’t want anybody to +mistake me for one.”</p> +<p>“Don’t let that get around,” she smilingly +replied. “They’d run you out if they knew you +despised them.”</p> +<p>“I’ve come down here to confer with you,” he +declared, as they reached the door. “I don’t +believe I want any more of their company. +What’s the use? As you say, I’ve started wrong +with them, and I don’t see any prospect of getting +right; and, besides, I like the rangers better. +Landon thinks I might work into the service. +I wonder if I could? It would give me something +to do.”</p> +<p>She considered a moment. “We’ll think about +that. Come into the kitchen. I’m cook to-day, +mother’s gone to town.”</p> +<p>The kitchen was clean and ample, and the +delicious odor of new-made bread filled it with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +cheer. As the girl resumed her apron, Wayland +settled into a chair with a sigh of content. +“I like this,” he said aloud. “There’s nothing +cowgirl about you now, you’re the Anglo-Saxon +housewife. You might be a Michigan or Connecticut +girl at this moment.”</p> +<p>Her cheeks were ruddy with the heat, and her +eyes intent on her work; but she caught enough +of his meaning to be pleased with it. “Oh, I +have to take a hand at the pots and pans now +and then. I can’t give all my time to the service; +but I’d like to.”</p> +<p>He boldly announced his errand. “I wish +you’d take me to board? I’m sure your cooking +would build up my shattered system a good deal +quicker than your aunt’s.”</p> +<p>She laughed, but shook her head. “You +ought to be on the hills riding hard every day. +What you need is the high country and the air +of the pines.”</p> +<p>“I’m not feeling any lack of scenery or pine-tree +air,” he retorted. “I’m perfectly satisfied +right here. Civilized bread and the sight of you +will do me more good than boiled beans and +camp bread. I hate to say it, but the Meeker +menu runs largely to beef. Moreover, just seeing +you would help my recovery.”</p> +<p>She became self-conscious at this, and he +hastened to add: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></p> +<p>“Not that I’m really sick. Mrs. Meeker, like +yourself, persists in treating me as if I were. +I’m feeling fine—perfectly well, only I’m not as +rugged as I want to be.”</p> +<p>She had read that victims of the white plague +always talk in this cheerful way about themselves, +and she worked on without replying, and +this gave him an excellent opportunity to study +her closely. She was taller than most women +and lithely powerful. There was nothing delicate +about her—nothing spirituelle—on the contrary, +she was markedly full-veined, cheerful and humorous, +and yet she had responded several times +to an allusive phrase with surprising quickness. +She did so now as he remarked: “Somebody, +I think it was Lowell, has said ‘Nature is +all very well for a vacation, but a poor substitute +for the society of good men and women.’ It’s +beautiful up at the mill, but I want some one +to enjoy it with, and there is no one to turn +to, except Landon, and he’s rather sad and self-absorbed—you +know why. If I were here—in +the valley—you and I could ride together +now and then, and you could show me all the +trails. Why not let me come here and board? +I’m going to ask your mother, if I may not do +so?”</p> +<p>Quite naturally he grew more and more personal. +He told her of his father, the busy director +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +of a lumber company, and of his mother, +sickly and inert.</p> +<p>“She ought never to have married,” he said, +with darkened brow. “Not one of her children +has even a decent constitution. I’m the most +robust of them all, and I must seem a pretty +poor lot to you. However, I wasn’t always like +this, and if that young devil, Frank Meeker, +hadn’t tormented me out of my sleep, I would +have shown you still greater improvement. +Don’t you see that it is your duty to let me stay +here where I can build up on your cooking?”</p> +<p>She turned this aside. “Mother don’t think +much of my cooking. She says I can handle a +brandin’-iron a heap better than I can a rollin’-pin.”</p> +<p>“You certainly can ride,” he replied, with admiring +accent. “I shall never forget the picture +you made that first time I saw you racing to intercept +the stage. Do you <i>know</i> how fine you +are physically? You’re a wonder.” She uttered +some protest, but he went on: “When I think of +my mother and sisters in comparison with you, +they seem like caricatures of women. I know +I oughtn’t to say such things of my mother—she +really is an exceptional person—but a woman +should be something more than mind. My +sisters could no more do what you do than a +lame duck can lead a ballet. I suppose it is because +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +I have had to live with a lot of ailing women +all my life that I feel as I do toward you. I worship +your health and strength. I really do. +Your care of me on that trip was very sweet—and +yet it stung.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”</p> +<p>“I know you didn’t, and I’m not complaining. +I’m only wishing I could come here and be ‘bossed’ +by you until I could hold my own against any +weather. You make me feel just as I used to do +when I went to a circus and watched the athletes, +men and women, file past me in the sawdust. +They seemed like demigods. As I sit here now +I have a fierce desire to be as well, as strong, as +full of life as you are. I hate being thin and +timid. You have the physical perfection that +queens ought to have.”</p> +<p>Her face was flushed with inward heat as she +listened to his strange words, which sprang, she +feared, from the heart of a man hopelessly ill; +but she again protested. “It’s all right to be +able to throw a rope and ride a mean horse, but +you have got something else—something I can +never get. Learning is a thousand times finer +than muscle.”</p> +<p>“Learning does not compensate for nine-inch +shoulders and spindle legs,” he answered. “But +I’m going to get well. Knowing you has given +me renewed desire to be a man. I’m going to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +ride and rough it, and sleep out of doors till I +can follow you anywhere. You’ll be proud of +me before the month is out. But I’m going to +cut the Meeker outfit. I won’t subject myself +to their vulgarities another day. Why should I? +It’s false pride in me to hang on up there any +longer.”</p> +<p>“Of course you can come here,” she said. +“Mother will be glad to have you, although our +ranch isn’t a bit pretty. Perhaps father will +send you out with one of the rangers as a fire-guard. +I’ll ask him to-night.”</p> +<p>“I wish you would. I like these foresters. +What I’ve seen of them. I wouldn’t mind serving +under a man like Landon. He’s fine.”</p> +<p>Upon this pleasant conference Cliff Belden +unexpectedly burst. Pushing the door open +with a slam, he confronted Berrie with dark and +angry face.</p> +<p>“Why, Cliff, where did you come from?” she +asked, rising in some confusion. “I didn’t hear +you ride up.”</p> +<p>“Apparently not,” he sneeringly answered. +“I reckon you were too much occupied.”</p> +<p>She tried to laugh away his black mood. +“That’s right, I was. I’m chief cook to-day. +Come in and sit down. Mother’s gone to town, +and I’m playing her part,” she explained, ignoring +his sullen displeasure. “Cliff, this is Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +Norcross, who is visiting Uncle Joe. Mr. Norcross, +shake hands with Mr. Belden.” She made +this introduction with some awkwardness, for her +lover’s failure to even say, “Howdy,” informed +her that his jealous heart was aflame, and she +went on, quickly: “Mr. Norcross dropped in on +his way to the post-office, and I’m collecting a +snack for him.”</p> +<p>Recognizing Belden’s claims upon the girl, +Wayland rose. “I must be going. It’s a long +ride over the hill.”</p> +<p>“Come again soon,” urged Berrie; “father +wants to see you.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. I will look in very shortly,” he +replied, and went out with such dignity as he +could command, feeling, however, very much +like a dog that has been kicked over the threshold.</p> +<p>Closing the door behind him, Belden turned +upon the girl. “What’s that consumptive ‘dogie’ +doing here? He ’peared to be very much at +home with you—too dern much at home!”</p> +<p>She was prepared for his displeasure, but not +for words like these. She answered, quietly: +“He just dropped in on his way to town, and he’s +not a dogie!” She resented his tone as well as +his words.</p> +<p>“I’ve heard about you taking him over to +Meeker’s and lending him your only slicker,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +went on; “but I didn’t expect to find him sittin’ +here like he owned you and the place. You’re +taking altogether too much pains with him. +Can’t he put his own horse out? Do you have +to go to the stable with him? You never did +have any sense about your actions with men. +You’ve all along been too free of your reputation, +and now I’m going to take care of it for you. I +won’t have you nursin’ this runt any longer!”</p> +<p>She perceived now the full measure of his base +rage, and her face grew pale and set. “You’re +making a perfect fool of yourself, Cliff,” she said, +with portentous calmness.</p> +<p>“Am I?” he asked.</p> +<p>“You sure are, and you’ll see it yourself by +and by. You’ve no call to get wire-edged about +Mr. Norcross. He’s not very strong. He’s just +getting well of a long sickness. I knew a chill +would finish him, that’s why I gave him my +slicker. It didn’t hurt me, and maybe it saved +his life. I’d do it again if necessary.”</p> +<p>“Since when did you start a hospital for +Eastern tenderfeet?” he sneered; then his tone +changed to one of downright command. “You +want to cut this all out, I tell you! I won’t have +any more of it! The boys up at the mill are all +talkin’ about your interest in this little whelp, +and I’m getting the branding-iron from every +one I meet. Sam saw you go into the barn with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +that dude, and <i>that</i> would have been all over the +country to-morrow, if I hadn’t told him I’d sew +his mouth up if he said a word about it. Of +course, I don’t think you mean anything by this +coddlin’.”</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you,” she interrupted, with flaming, +quick, indignant fury. “That’s mighty nice +of you. I went to the barn to show Mr. Norcross +where to stall his horse. I didn’t know +Sam was here.”</p> +<p>He sneered: “No, I bet you didn’t.”</p> +<p>She fired at this. “Come now! Spit it out! +Something nasty is in your mind. Go on! +What have I done? What makes you so hot?”</p> +<p>He began to weaken. “I don’t accuse you of +anything. I—but I—”</p> +<p>“Yes you do—in your heart you distrust me—you +just as much as said so!”</p> +<p>He was losing his high air of command. “Never +mind what I said, Berrie, I—”</p> +<p>She was blazing now. “But I <i>do</i> mind—I +mind a whole lot—I didn’t think it of you,” she +added, as she realized his cheapness, his coarseness. +“I didn’t suppose you could even <i>think</i> +such things of me. I don’t like it,” she repeated, +and her tone hardened, “and I guess you’d better +pull out of here—for good. If you’ve no more +faith in me than that, I want you to go and never +come back.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></p> +<p>“You don’t mean that!”</p> +<p>“Yes, I do! You’ve shown this yellow streak +before, and I’m tired of it. This is the limit. +I’m done with you.”</p> +<p>She stood between tears and benumbing anger +now, and he was scared. “Don’t say that, +Berrie!” he pleaded, trying to put his arm about +her.</p> +<p>“Keep away from me!” She dashed his hands +aside. “I hate you. I never want to see you +again!” She ran into her own room and slammed +the door behind her.</p> +<p>Belden stood for a long time with his back +against the wall, the heat of his resentment +utterly gone, an empty, aching place in his heart. +He called her twice, but she made no answer, +and so, at last, he mounted his horse and rode +away.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IV_THE_SUPERVISOR_OF_THE_FOREST' id='IV_THE_SUPERVISOR_OF_THE_FOREST'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +<h2>IV</h2> +<h3>THE SUPERVISOR OF THE FOREST</h3> +</div> + +<p>Young Norcross, much as he admired Berrie, +was not seeking to exchange her favor +for her lover’s enmity, and he rode away with an +uneasy feeling of having innocently made trouble +for himself, as well as for a fine, true-hearted girl. +“What a good friendly talk we were having,” he +said, regretfully, “and to think she is to marry +that big, scowling brute. How could she turn +Landon down for a savage like that?”</p> +<p>He was just leaving the outer gate when Belden +came clattering up and reined his horse +across the path and called out: “See here, you +young skunk, you’re a poor, white-livered tenderfoot, +and I can’t bust you as I would a full-grown +man, but I reckon you better not ride +this trail any more.”</p> +<p>“Why not?” inquired Wayland.</p> +<p>Belden glared. “Because I tell you so. Your +sympathy-hunting game has just about run into +the ground. You’ve worked this baby dodge +about long enough. You’re not so almighty sick +as you put up to be, and you’d better hunt some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +other cure for lonesomeness, or I’ll just about +cave your chest in.”</p> +<p>All this was shockingly plain talk for a slender +young scholar to listen to, but Norcross remained +calm. “I think you’re unnecessarily +excited,” he remarked. “I have no desire to +make trouble. I’m considering Miss Berea, who +is too fine to be worried by us.”</p> +<p>His tone was conciliating, and the cowman, +in spite of himself, responded to it. “That’s why +I advise you to go. She was all right till you +came. Colorado’s a big place, and there are +plenty other fine ranges for men of your complaint—why +not try Routt County? This is +certain, you can’t stay in the same valley with +my girl. I serve notice of that.”</p> +<p>“You’re making a prodigious ass of yourself,” +observed Wayland, with calm contempt.</p> +<p>“You think so—do you? Well, I’ll make a +jack-rabbit out of you if I find you on this ranch +again. You’ve worked on my girl in some way +till she’s jest about quit me. I don’t see how you +did it, you measly little pup, but you surely have +turned her against me!” His rage burst into +flame as he thought of her last words. “If you +were so much as half a man I’d break you in +two pieces right now; but you’re not, you’re +nothing but a dead-on-the-hoof lunger, and +there’s nothing to do but run you out. So take +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +this as your final notice. You straddle a horse +and head east and keep a-ridin’, and if I catch +you with my girl again, I’ll deal you a whole +hatful of misery—now that’s right!”</p> +<p>Thereupon, with a final glance of hate in his +face, he whirled his horse and galloped away, +leaving Norcross dumb with resentment, intermingled +with wonder.</p> +<p>“Truly the West is a dramatic country! Here +I am, involved in a lover’s wrath, and under +sentence of banishment, all within a month! +Well, I suppose there’s nothing to do but carry +out Belden’s orders. He’s the boss,” he said as +he rode on. “I wonder just what happened after +I left? Something stormy, evidently. She must +have given him a sharp rebuff, or he wouldn’t +have been so furious with me. Perhaps she even +broke her engagement with him. I sincerely hope +she did. She’s too good for him. That’s the +truth.”</p> +<p>And so, from point to point, he progressed till +with fine indignation he reached a resolution +to stay and meet whatever came. “I certainly +would be a timorous animal if I let myself be +scared into flight by that big bonehead,” he said +at last. “I have as much right here as he has, +and the law must protect me. It can’t be that +this country is entirely barbaric.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, he felt very weak and very much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +depressed as he rode up the street of the little +town and dismounted at the hotel. The sidewalks +were littered with loafing cowboys and +lumber-jacks, and some of them quite openly +ridiculed his riding-breeches and his thin legs. +Others merely grinned, but in their grins lay +something more insulting than words. “To +them I am a poor thing,” he admitted; but as he +lifted his eyes to the mighty semicircular wall +of the Bear Tooth Range, over which the daily +storm was playing, he forgot his small worries. +What gorgeous pageantry! What life-giving air! +“If only civilized men and women possessed this +glorious valley, what a place it would be!” he +exclaimed, and in the heat of his indignant +contempt he would have swept the valley +clean.</p> +<p>As his eyes caught the flutter of the flag on +its staff above the Forest Service building, his +heart went out to the men who unselfishly +wrought beneath that symbol of federal unity +for the good of the future. “That is civilized,” +he said; “that is prophetic,” and alighted at the +door in a glow of confidence.</p> +<p>Nash, who was alone in the office, looked up +from his work. “Come in,” he called, heartily. +“Come in and report.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. I’d like to do so; and may I +use your desk? I have a letter to write.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p> +<p>“Make yourself at home. Take any desk you +like. The men are all out on duty.”</p> +<p>“You’re very kind,” replied Wayland, gratefully. +There was something reassuring in this +greeting, and in the many signs of skill and +scientific reading which the place displayed. It +was like a bit of Washington in the midst of a +careless, slovenly, lawless mountain town, and +Norcross took his seat and wrote his letter with +a sense of proprietorship.</p> +<p>“I’m getting up an enthusiasm for the Service +just from hearing Alec Belden rave against it,” +he said a few minutes later, as he looked up from +his letter.</p> +<p>Nash grinned. “How did you like Meeker?”</p> +<p>“He’s a good man, but he has his peculiarities. +Belden is your real enemy. He is blue +with malignity—so are most of the cowmen I +met up there. I wish I could do something for +the Service. I’m a thoroughly up-to-date analytical +chemist and a passable mining engineer, and +my doctor says that for a year at least I must +work in the open air. <i>Is</i> there anything in this +Forest Service for a weakling like me?”</p> +<p>Nash considered. “The Supervisor might put +you on as a temporary guard. I’ll speak to him +if you like?”</p> +<p>“I wish you would. Tell him to forget the +pay. I’m not in need of money, but I do require +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +some incentive—something to do—something to +give me direction. It bores me stiff to fish, and +I’m sick of loafing. If McFarlane can employ me +I shall be happy. The country is glorious, but +I can’t live on scenery.”</p> +<p>“I think we can employ you, but you’ll have +to go on as fire-guard or something like that for +the first year. You see, the work is getting to +be more and more technical each year. As a +matter of fact”—here he lowered his voice a little—“McFarlane +is one of the old guard, and +will have to give way. He don’t know a thing +about forestry, and is too old to learn. His girl +knows more about it than he does. She helps +him out on office work, too.”</p> +<p>Wayland wondered a little at the freedom of +expression on the part of Nash; but said: “If +he runs his office as he runs his ranch he surely +is condemned to go.”</p> +<p>“There’s where the girl comes in. She keeps +the boys in the office lined up and maintains +things in pretty fair shape. She knows the old +man is in danger of losing his job, and she’s doing +her best to hold him to it. She’s like a son to him +and he relies on her judgment when a close decision +comes up. But it’s only a matter of time +when he and all he represents must drift by. +This is a big movement we’re mixed with.”</p> +<p>“I begin to feel that that’s why I’d like to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +take it up. It’s the only thing out here that interests +me—and I’ve got to do something. I +can’t loaf.”</p> +<p>“Well, you get Berrie to take up your case and +you’re all right. She has the say about who goes +on the force in this forest.”</p> +<p>It was late in the afternoon before Wayland +started back to Meeker’s with intent to repack +his belongings and leave the ranch for good. +He had decided not to call at McFarlane’s, a +decision which came not so much from fear of +Clifford Belden as from a desire to shield Berea +from further trouble, but as he was passing the +gate, the girl rose from behind a clump of willows +and called to him: “Oh, Mr. Norcross! Wait +a moment.”</p> +<p>He drew rein, and, slipping from his horse, +approached her. “What is it, Miss Berrie?” he +asked, with wondering politeness.</p> +<p>She confronted him with gravity. “It’s too +late for you to cross the ridge. It’ll be dark long +before you reach the cut-off. You’d better not +try to make it.”</p> +<p>“I think I can find my way,” he answered, +touched by her consideration. “I’m not so +helpless as I was when I came.”</p> +<p>“Just the same you mustn’t go on,” she insisted. +“Father told me to ask you to come in +and stay all night. He wants to meet you. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +was afraid you might ride by after what happened +to-day, and so I came up here to head +you off.” She took his horse by the rein, and +flashed a smiling glance up at him. “Come now, +do as the Supervisor tells you.”</p> +<p>“Wait a moment,” he pleaded. “On second +thought, I don’t believe it’s a good thing for +me to go home with you. It will only make +further trouble for—for us both.”</p> +<p>She was almost as direct as Belden had been. +“I know what you mean. I saw Cliff follow you. +He jumped you, didn’t he?”</p> +<p>“He overtook me—yes.”</p> +<p>“What did he say?”</p> +<p>He hesitated. “He was pretty hot, and said +things he’ll be sorry for when he cools off.”</p> +<p>“He told you not to come here any more—advised +you to hit the out-going trail—didn’t +he?”</p> +<p>He flushed with returning shame of it all, but +quietly answered: “Yes, he said something about +riding east.”</p> +<p>“Are you going to do it?”</p> +<p>“Not to-day; but I guess I’d better keep away +from here.”</p> +<p>She looked at him steadily. “Why?”</p> +<p>“Because you’ve been very kind to me, and I +wouldn’t for the world do anything to hurt or +embarrass you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p> +<p>“Don’t you mind about me,” she responded, +bluntly. “What happened this morning wasn’t +your fault nor mine. Cliff made a mighty coarse +play, something he’ll have to pay for. He knows +that right now. He’ll be back in a day or two +begging my pardon, and he won’t get it. Don’t +you worry about me, not for a minute—I can +take care of myself—I grew up that way, and +don’t you be chased out of the country by anybody. +Come, father will be looking for you.”</p> +<p>With a feeling that he was involving both the +girl and himself in still darker storms, the young +fellow yielded to her command, and together +they walked along the weed-bordered path, +while she continued:</p> +<p>“This isn’t the first time Cliff has started in +to discipline me; but it’s obliged to be the last. +He’s the kind that think they own a girl just as +soon as they get her to wear an engagement ring; +but Cliff don’t own me. I told him I wouldn’t +stand for his coarse ways, and I won’t!”</p> +<p>Wayland tried to bring her back to humor. +“You’re a kind of ‘new woman.’”</p> +<p>She turned a stern look on him. “You bet I +am! I was raised a free citizen. No man can +make a slave of me. I thought he understood +that; but it seems he didn’t. He’s all right in +many ways—one of the best riders in the country—but +he’s pretty tolerable domineering—I’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +always known that—still, I never expected him +to talk to me like he did to-day. It certainly +was raw.” She broke off abruptly. “You +mustn’t let Frank Meeker get the best of you, +either,” she advised. “He’s a mean little weasel +if he gets started. I’ll bet he put Cliff up to this +business.”</p> +<p>“Do you think so?”</p> +<p>“Yes, he just as good as told me he’d do it. +I know Frank, he’s my own cousin, and someways +I like him; but he’s the limit when he gets going. +You see, he wanted to get even with Cliff and +took that way of doing it. I’ll ride up there and +give him a little good advice some Saturday.”</p> +<p>He was no longer amused by her blunt speech, +and her dark look saddened him. She seemed +so unlike the happy girl he met that first day, +and the change in her subtended a big, rough, +and pitiless world of men against which she was +forced to contend all her life.</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane greeted Norcross with cordial +word and earnest hand-clasp. “I’m glad to see +you looking so well,” she said, with charming sincerity.</p> +<p>“I’m browner, anyway,” he answered, and +turned to meet McFarlane, a short, black-bearded +man, with fine dark eyes and shapely hands—hands +that had never done anything more toilsome +than to lift a bridle rein or to clutch the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +handle of a gun. He was the horseman in all +his training, and though he owned hundreds of +acres of land, he had never so much as held a +plow or plied a spade. His manner was that of +the cow-boss, the lord of great herds, the claimant +of empires of government grass-land. Poor +as his house looked, he was in reality rich. Narrow-minded +in respect to his own interests, he +was well in advance of his neighbors on matters +relating to the general welfare, a curious mixture +of greed and generosity, as most men are, +and though he had been made Supervisor at +a time when political pull still crippled the Service, +he was loyal to the flag. “I’m mighty glad +to see you,” he heartily began. “We don’t often +get a man from the sea-level, and when we do we +squeeze him dry.”</p> +<p>His voice, low, languid, and soft, was most +insinuating, and for hours he kept his guest talking +of the East and its industries and prejudices; +and Berrie and her mother listened with deep +admiration, for the youngster had seen a good +deal of the old world, and was unusually well +read on historical lines of inquiry. He talked +well, too, inspired by his attentive audience.</p> +<p>Berrie’s eyes, wide and eager, were fixed upon +him unwaveringly. He felt her wonder, her +admiration, and was inspired to do his best. +Something in her absorbed attention led him to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +speak of things so personal that he wondered at +himself for uttering them.</p> +<p>“I’ve been dilettante all my life,” was one of +his confessions. “I’ve traveled; I’ve studied +in a tepid sort of fashion; I went through college +without any idea of doing anything with what +I got; I had a sort of pride in keeping up with +my fellows; and I had no idea of preparing for +any work in the world. Then came my breakdown, +and my doctor ordered me out here. I +came intending to fish and loaf around, but I +can’t do that. I’ve got to do something or go +back home. I expected to have a chum of mine +with me, but his father was injured in an automobile +accident, so he went into the office to +help out.”</p> +<p>As he talked the girl discovered new graces, +new allurements in him. His smile, so subtly +self-derisive, and his voice so flexible and so +quietly eloquent, completed her subjugation. +She had no further care concerning Clifford—indeed, +she had forgotten him—for the time at +least. The other part of her—the highly civilized +latent power drawn from her mother—was +in action. She lost her air of command, +her sense of chieftainship, and sat humbly at the +feet of this shining visitor from the East.</p> +<p>At last Mrs. McFarlane rose, and Berea, reluctantly, +like a child loath to miss a fairy story, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +held out her hand to say good night, and the +young man saw on her face that look of adoration +which marks the birth of sudden love; but his +voice was frank and his glance kindly as he said:</p> +<p>“Here I’ve done all the talking when I wanted +you to tell <i>me</i> all sorts of things.”</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you anything.”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, you can; and, besides, I want you +to intercede for me with your father and get +me into the Service. But we’ll talk about that +to-morrow. Good night.”</p> +<p>After the women left the room Norcross said:</p> +<p>“I really am in earnest about entering the +Forest Service. Landon filled me with enthusiasm +about it. Never mind the pay. I’m not +in immediate need of money; but I do need an +interest in life.”</p> +<p>McFarlane stared at him with kindly perplexity. +“I don’t know exactly what you can +do, but I’ll work you in somehow. You ought to +work under a man like Settle, one that could put +you through a training in the rudiments of the +game. I’ll see what can be done.”</p> +<p>“Thank you for that half promise,” said Wayland, +and he went to his bed happier than at any +moment since leaving home.</p> +<p>Berrie, on her part, did not analyze her feeling +for Wayland, she only knew that he was as +different from the men she knew as a hawk from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +a sage-hen, and that he appealed to her in a +higher way than any other had done. His talk +filled her with visions of great cities, and with +thoughts of books, for though she was profoundly +loyal to her mountain valley, she held other, more +secret admirations. She was, in fact, compounded +of two opposing tendencies. Her quiet little +mother longing—in secret—for the placid, refined +life of her native Kentucky town, had +dowered her daughter with some part of her +desire. She had always hated the slovenly, +wasteful, and purposeless life of the cattle-rancher, +and though she still patiently bore with +her husband’s shortcomings, she covertly hoped +that Berea might find some other and more +civilized lover than Clifford Belden. She understood +her daughter too well to attempt to dictate +her action; she merely said to her, as they +were alone for a few moments: “I don’t wonder +your father is interested in Mr. Norcross, he’s +very intelligent—and very considerate.”</p> +<p>“Too considerate,” said Berrie, shortly; “he +makes other men seem like bears or pigs.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane said no more, but she knew +that Cliff was, for the time, among the bears.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='V_THE_GOLDEN_PATHWAY' id='V_THE_GOLDEN_PATHWAY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +<h2>V</h2> +<h3>THE GOLDEN PATHWAY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Young Norcross soon became vitally engaged +with the problems which confronted +McFarlane, and his possible enrolment as a guard +filled him with a sense of proprietorship in the +forest, which made him quite content with Bear +Tooth. He set to work at once to acquire a +better knowledge of the extent and boundaries +of the reservation. It was, indeed, a noble possession. +Containing nearly eight hundred thousand +acres of woodland, and reaching to the summits +of the snow-lined peaks to the east, south, +and west, it appealed to him with silent majesty. +It drew upon his patriotism. Remembering how +the timber of his own state had been slashed and +burned, he began to feel a sense of personal responsibility. +He had but to ride into it a few +miles in order to appreciate in some degree its +grandeur, considered merely as the source of a +hundred swift streams, whose waters enriched +the valleys lying below.</p> +<p>He bought a horse of his own—although Berrie +insisted upon his retaining Pete—and sent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +for a saddle of the army type, and from sheer +desire to keep entirely clear of the cowboy equipment +procured puttees like those worn by cavalry +officers, and when he presented himself completely +uniformed, he looked not unlike a slender, +young lieutenant of the cavalry on field duty, and +in Berrie’s eyes was wondrous alluring.</p> +<p>He took quarters at the hotel, but spent a larger +part of each day in Berrie’s company—a fact +which was duly reported to Clifford Belden. +Hardly a day passed without his taking at least +one meal at the Supervisor’s home.</p> +<p>As he met the rangers one by one, he perceived +by their outfits, as well as by their speech, that +they were sharply divided upon old lines and +new. The experts, the men of college training, +were quite ready to be known as Uncle Sam’s +men. They held a pride in their duties, a respect +for their superiors, and an understanding of +the governmental policy which gave them dignity +and a quiet authority. They were less +policemen than trusted agents of a federal department. +Nevertheless, there was much to admire +in the older men, who possessed a self-reliance, +a knowledge of nature, and a certain +rough grace which made them interesting companions, +and rendered them effective teachers of +camping and trailing, and while they were +secretly a little contemptuous of the “schoolboys”; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +they were all quite ready to ask for expert +aid when knotty problems arose. It was no +longer a question of grazing, it was a question of +lumbering and reforestration.</p> +<p>Nash, who took an almost brotherly interest +in his apprentice, warningly said: “You want to +go well clothed and well shod. You’ll have to +meet all kinds of weather. Every man in the +service, I don’t care what his technical job is, +should be schooled in taking care of himself in +the forest and on the trail. I often meet surveyors +and civil engineers—experts—who are +helpless as children in camp, and when I want +them to go into the hills and do field work, they +are almost useless. The old-style ranger has his +virtues. Settle is just the kind of instructor +you young fellows need.”</p> +<p>Berrie also had keen eyes for his outfit and his +training, and under her direction he learned to +pack a horse, set a tent, build a fire in the rain, +and other duties.</p> +<p>“You want to remember that you carry your +bed and board with you,” she said, “and you +must be prepared to camp anywhere and at +any time.”</p> +<p>The girl’s skill in these particulars was marvelous +to him, and added to the admiration he already +felt for her. Her hand was as deft, as +sure, as the best of them, and her knowledge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +of cayuse psychology more profound than any +of the men excepting her father.</p> +<p>One day, toward the end of his second week in +the village, the Supervisor said: “Well, now, if +you’re ready to experiment I’ll send you over to +Settle, the ranger, on the Horseshoe. He’s a little +lame on his pen-hand side, and you may be +able to help him out. Maybe I’ll ride over there +with you. I want to line out some timber sales +on the west side of Ptarmigan.”</p> +<p>This commission delighted Norcross greatly. +“I’m ready, sir, this moment,” he answered, +saluting soldier-wise.</p> +<p>That night, as he sat in the saddle-littered, +boot-haunted front room of Nash’s little shack, +his host said, quaintly: “Don’t think you are inheriting +a soft snap, son. The ranger’s job was +a man’s job in the old days when it was a mere +matter of patrolling; but it’s worse and more of +it to-day. A ranger must be ready and willing +to build bridges, fight fire, scale logs, chop a hole +through a windfall, use a pick in a ditch, build +his own house, cook, launder, and do any other +old trick that comes along. But you’ll know +more about all this at the end of ten days than +I can tell you in a year.”</p> +<p>“I’m eager for duty,” replied Wayland.</p> +<p>The next morning, as he rode down to the office +to meet the Supervisor, he was surprised and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +delighted to find Berea there. “I’m riding, too,” +she announced, delightedly. “I’ve never been +over that new trail, and father has agreed to let +me go along.” Then she added, earnestly: “I +think it’s fine you’re going in for the Service; but +it’s hard work, and you must be careful till you’re +hardened to it. It’s a long way to a doctor from +Settle’s station.”</p> +<p>He was annoyed as well as touched by her +warning, for it proclaimed that he was still far +from looking the brave forester he felt himself +to be. He replied: “I’m not going to try anything +wild, but I do intend to master the trailer’s +craft.”</p> +<p>“I’ll teach you how to camp, if you’ll let me,” +she continued. “I’ve been on lots of surveys +with father, and I always take my share of the +work. I threw that hitch alone.” She nodded +toward the pack-horse, whose neat load gave +evidence of her skill. “I told father this was +to be a real camping expedition, and as the +grouse season is on we’ll live on the country. +Can you fish?”</p> +<p>“Just about that,” he laughed. “Good thing +you didn’t ask me if I could <i>catch</i> fish?” He was +recovering his spirits. “It will be great fun to +have you as instructor in camp science. I seem +to be in for all kinds of good luck.”</p> +<p>They both grew uneasy as time passed, for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +fear something or some one would intervene to +prevent this trip, which grew in interest each +moment; but at last the Supervisor came out +and mounted his horse, the pack-ponies fell in +behind, Berrie followed, and the student of woodcraft +brought up to rear.</p> +<p>“I hope it won’t rain,” the girl called back at +him, “at least not till we get over the divide. +It’s a fine ride up the hill, and the foliage is at +its best.”</p> +<p>It seemed to him the most glorious morning +of his life. A few large white clouds were drifting +like snow-laden war-vessels from west to +east, silent and solemn, and on the highest peaks +a gray vapor was lightly clinging. The near-by +hills, still transcendently beautiful with the flaming +gold of the aspen, burned against the dark +green of the farther forest, and far beyond the +deep purple of the shadowed slopes rose to smoky +blue and tawny yellow. It was a season, an +hour, to create raptures in a poet, so radiant, so +wide-reaching, so tumultuous was the landscape. +Nothing sad, nothing discouraging, showed itself. +The wind was brisk, the air cool and +clear, and jewel-like small, frost-painted vines +and ripened shrubberies blazed upward from the +ground. As he rode the youth silently repeated: +“Beautiful! Beautiful!”</p> +<p>For several miles they rode upward through +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +golden forests of aspens. On either hand rose +thick walls of snow-white boles, and in the +mystic glow of their gilded leaves the face of the +girl shone with unearthly beauty. It was as if +the very air had become auriferous. Magic coins +dangled from the branches. Filmy shadows fell +over her hair and down her strong young arms +like priceless lace. Gold, gold! Everywhere +gold, gold and fire!</p> +<p>Twice she stopped to gaze into Wayland’s +face to say, with hushed intensity: “Isn’t it +wonderful! Don’t you wish it would last forever?”</p> +<p>Her words were poor, ineffectual; but her look, +her breathless voice made up for their lack of +originality. Once she said: “I never saw it so +lovely before; it is an enchanted land!” with no +suspicion that the larger part of her ecstasy +arose from the presence of her young and sympathetic +companion. He, too, responded to the +beauty of the day, of the golden forest as one +who had taken new hold on life after long illness.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the Supervisor was calmly leading +the way upward, vaguely conscious of the magical +air and mystic landscape in which his young +folk floated as if on wings, thinking busily of the +improvements which were still necessary in the +trail, and weighing with care the clouds which +still lingered upon the tallest summits, as if debating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +whether to go or to stay. He had never +been an imaginative soul, and now that age had +somewhat dimmed his eyes and blunted his senses +he was placidly content with his path. The +rapture of the lover, the song of the poet, had +long since abandoned his heart. And yet he was +not completely oblivious. To him it was a nice +day, but a “weather breeder.”</p> +<p>“I wonder if I shall ever ride through this +mountain world as unmoved as he seems to be?” +Norcross asked himself, after some jarring prosaic +remark from his chief. “I am glad Berrie +responds to it.”</p> +<p>At last they left these lower, wondrous forest +aisles and entered the unbroken cloak of firs +whose dark and silent deeps had a stern beauty +all their own; but the young people looked +back upon the glowing world below with wistful +hearts. Back and forth across a long, down-sweeping +ridge they wove their toilsome way +toward the clouds, which grew each hour more +formidable, awesome with their weight, ponderous +as continents in their majesty of movement. +The horses began to labor with roaring breath, +and Wayland, dismounting to lighten his pony’s +burden, was dismayed to discover how thin the +air had become. Even to walk unburdened gave +him a smothering pain in his breast.</p> +<p>“Better stay on,” called the girl. “My rule +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +is to ride the hill going up and walk it going +down. Down hill is harder on a horse than +going up.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless he persisted in clambering up +some of the steepest parts of the trail, and was +increasingly dismayed by the endless upward +reaches of the foot-hills. A dozen times he +thought, “We must be nearly at the top,” and +then other and far higher ridges suddenly developed. +Occasionally the Supervisor was forced +to unsling an ax and chop his way through a +fallen tree, and each time the student hurried to +the spot, ready to aid, but was quite useless. He +admired the ease and skill with which the older +man put his shining blade through the largest +bole, and wondered if he could ever learn to do +as well.</p> +<p>“One of the first essentials of a ranger’s training +is to learn to swing an ax,” remarked McFarlane, +“and you never want to be without a real +tool. <i>I</i> won’t stand for a hatchet ranger.”</p> +<p>Berrie called attention to the marks on the +trees. “This is the government sign—a long +blaze with two notches above it. You can trust +these trails; they lead somewhere.”</p> +<p>“As you ride a trail study how to improve it,” +added the Supervisor, sheathing his ax. “They +can all be improved.”</p> +<p>Wayland was sure of this a few steps farther +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +on, when the Supervisor’s horse went down in +a small bog-hole, and Berrie’s pony escaped only +by the most desperate plunging. The girl +laughed, but Wayland was appalled and stood +transfixed watching McFarlane as he calmly extricated +himself from the saddle of the fallen +horse and chirped for him to rise.</p> +<p>“You act as if this were a regular part of the +journey,” Wayland said to Berrie.</p> +<p>“It’s all in the day’s work,” she replied; “but +I despise a bog worse than anything else on the +trail. I’ll show you how to go round this one.” +Thereupon she slid from her horse and came tiptoeing +back along the edge of the mud-hole.</p> +<p>McFarlane cut a stake and plunged it vertically +in the mud. “That means ‘no bottom,’” he +explained. “We must cut a new trail.”</p> +<p>Wayland was dismounting when Berrie said: +“Stay on. Now put your horse right through +where those rocks are. It’s hard bottom there.”</p> +<p>He felt like a child; but he did as she bid, and +so came safely through, while McFarlane set to +work to blaze a new route which should avoid +the slough which was already a bottomless horror +to the city man.</p> +<p>This mishap delayed them nearly half an hour, +and the air grew dark and chill as they stood +there, and the amateur ranger began to understand +how serious a lone night journey might +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +sometimes be. “What would I do if when riding +in the dark my horse should go down like that +and pin me in the mud?” he asked himself. +“Eternal watchfulness is certainly one of the +forester’s first principles.”</p> +<p>The sky was overshadowed now, and a thin +drizzle of rain filled the air. The novice hastened +to throw his raincoat over his shoulders; but +McFarlane rode steadily on, clad only in his shirtsleeves, +unmindful of the wet. Berrie, however, +approved Wayland’s caution. “That’s right; +keep dry,” she called back. “Don’t pay attention +to father, he’d rather get soaked any day +than unroll his slicker. You mustn’t take him +for model yet awhile.”</p> +<p>He no longer resented her sweet solicitude, +although he considered himself unentitled to it, +and he rejoiced under the shelter of his fine new +coat. He began to perceive that one could be +defended against a storm.</p> +<p>After passing two depressing marshes, they +came to a hillside so steep, so slippery, so dark, +so forbidding, that one of the pack-horses balked, +shook his head, and reared furiously, as if to say +“I can’t do it, and I won’t try.” And Wayland +sympathized with him. The forest was gloomy +and cold, and apparently endless.</p> +<p>After coaxing him for a time with admirable +gentleness, the Supervisor, at Berrie’s suggestion, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +shifted part of the load to her own saddle-horse, +and they went on.</p> +<p>Wayland, though incapable of comment—so +great was the demand upon his lungs—was not +too tired to admire the power and resolution of +the girl, who seemed not to suffer any special +inconvenience from the rarefied air. The dryness +of his open mouth, the throbbing of his +troubled pulse, the roaring of his breath, brought +to him with increasing dismay the fact that he +had overlooked another phase of the ranger’s +job. “I couldn’t chop a hole through one of these +windfalls in a week,” he admitted, as McFarlane’s +blade again liberated them from a fallen +tree. “To do office work at six thousand feet +is quite different from swinging an ax up here at +timber-line,” he said to the girl. “I guess my +chest is too narrow for high altitudes.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you’ll get used to it,” she replied, cheerily. +“I always feel it a little at first; but I really think +it’s good for a body, kind o’ stretches the lungs.” +Nevertheless, she eyed him with furtive anxiety.</p> +<p>He was beginning to be hungry also—he had +eaten a very early breakfast—and he fell to +wondering just where and when they were to +camp; but he endured in silence. “So long as +Berrie makes no complaint my mouth is shut,” +he told himself. “Surely I can stand it if she +can.” And so struggled on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></p> +<p>Up and up the pathway looped, crossing minute +little boggy meadows, on whose bottomless +ooze the grass shook like a blanket, descending +steep ravines and climbing back to dark and +muddy slopes. The forest was dripping, green, +and silent now, a mysterious menacing jungle. +All the warmth and magic of the golden forest +below was lost as though it belonged to another +and sunnier world. Nothing could be seen of +the high, snow-flecked peaks which had allured +them from the valley. All about them drifted +the clouds, and yet through the mist the flushed +face of the girl glowed like a dew-wet rose, and +the imperturbable Supervisor jogged his remorseless, +unhesitating way toward the dense, +ascending night.</p> +<p>“I’m glad I’m not riding this pass alone,” +Wayland said, as they paused again for breath.</p> +<p>“So am I,” she answered; but her thought was +not his. She was happy at the prospect of teaching +him how to camp.</p> +<p>At last they reached the ragged edge of timber-line, +and there, rolling away under the mist, lay +the bare, grassy, upward-climbing, naked neck +of the great peak. The wind had grown keener +moment by moment, and when they left the +storm-twisted pines below, its breath had a +wintry nip. The rain had ceased to fall, but +the clouds still hung densely to the loftiest summits. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +It was a sinister yet beautiful world—a +world as silent as a dream, and through the +short, thick grass the slender trail ran like a timid +serpent. The hour seemed to have neither daytime +nor season. All was obscure, mysterious, +engulfing, and hostile. Had he been alone the +youth would have been appalled by the prospect.</p> +<p>“Now we’re on the divide,” called Berea; and +as she spoke they seemed to enter upon a boundless +Alpine plain of velvet-russet grass. “This +is the Bear Tooth plateau.” Low monuments +of loose rock stood on small ledges, as though to +mark the course, and in the hollows dark ponds +of icy water lay, half surrounded by masses of +compact snow.</p> +<p>“This is a stormy place in winter,” McFarlane +explained. “These piles of stone are mighty +valuable in a blizzard. I’ve crossed this divide +in August in snow so thick I could not see a +rod.”</p> +<p>Half an hour later they began to descend. +Wind-twisted, storm-bleached dwarf pines were +first to show, then the firs, then the blue-green +spruces, and then the sheltering deeps of the undespoiled +forest opened, and the roar of a splendid +stream was heard; but still the Supervisor +kept his resolute way, making no promises as to +dinner, though his daughter called: “We’d better +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +go into camp at Beaver Lake. I hope you’re not +starved,” she called to Wayland.</p> +<p>“But I am,” he replied, so frankly that she +never knew how faint he really was. His knees +were trembling with weakness, and he stumbled +dangerously as he trod the loose rocks in the +path.</p> +<p>They were all afoot now descending swiftly, +and the horses ramped down the trail with expectant +haste, so that in less than an hour from +timber-line they were back into the sunshine of +the lower valley, and at three o’clock or thereabouts +they came out upon the bank of an +exquisite lake, and with a cheery shout McFarlane +called out: “Here we are, out of the wilderness!” +Then to Wayland: “Well, boy, how did +you stand it?”</p> +<p>“Just middling,” replied Wayland, reticent +from weariness and with joy of their camping-place. +The lake, dark as topaz and smooth as +steel, lay in a frame of golden willows—as a +jewel is filigreed with gold—and above it the +cliffs rose three thousand feet in sheer majesty, +their upper slopes glowing with autumnal grasses. +A swift stream roared down a low ledge and fell +into the pond near their feet. Grassy, pine-shadowed +knolls afforded pasture for the horses, +and two giant firs, at the edge of a little glade, +made a natural shelter for their tent. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p> +<p>With businesslike certitude Berrie unsaddled +her horse, turned him loose, and lent a skilful hand +at removing the panniers from the pack-animals, +while Wayland, willing but a little uncertain, +stood awkwardly about. Under her instruction +he collected dead branches of a standing fir, and +from these and a few cones kindled a blaze, while +the Supervisor hobbled the horses and set the tent.</p> +<p>“If the work of a forester were all like this it +wouldn’t be so bad,” he remarked, wanly. “I +think I know several fellows who would be glad +to do it without a cent of pay.”</p> +<p>“Wait till you get to heaving a pick,” she retorted, +“or scaling lumber in a rain, or building +a corduroy bridge.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to think of anything so dreadful. +I want to enjoy this moment. I never was +hungrier or happier in my life.”</p> +<p>“Do ye good,” interjected McFarlane, who +had paused to straighten up the coffee-pot. +“Most people don’t know what hunger means. +There’s nothing finer in the world than good old-fashioned +hunger, provided you’ve got something +to throw into yourself when you come into camp. +This is a great place for fish. I think I’ll see if +I can’t jerk a few out.”</p> +<p>“Better wait till night,” said his daughter. +“Mr. Norcross is starving, and so am I. Plain +bacon will do me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span></p> +<p>The coffee came to a boil, the skillet gave off +a wondrous savor, and when the corn and beans +began to sizzle, the trailers sat down to their +feast in hearty content, with one of the panniers +for a table, and the fir-tree for roof. “This is +one of the most perfectly appointed dining-rooms +in the world,” exclaimed the alien.</p> +<p>The girl met his look with a tender smile. +“I’m glad you like it, for perhaps we’ll stay a +week.”</p> +<p>“It looks stormy,” the Supervisor announced, +after a glance at the crests. “I’d like to see a +soaking rain—it would end all our worry about +fires. The country’s very dry on this side the +range, and your duty for the present will be to +help Tony patrol.”</p> +<p>While he talked on, telling the youth how to +beat out a small blaze and how to head off a +large one, Wayland listened, but heard his instructions +only as he sensed the brook, as an accompaniment +to Berea’s voice, for as she busied +herself clearing away the dishes and putting the +camp to rights, she sang.</p> +<p>“You’re to have the tent,” said her father, +“and we two huskies will sleep under the shade +of this big fir. If you’re ever caught out,” he +remarked to Wayland, “hunt for one of these +balsam firs; there’s always a dry spot under +them. See here!” And he showed him the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +sheltered circle beneath the tree. “You can always +get twigs for kindling from their inner +branches,” he added, “or you can hew into one +of these dead trees and get some pitchy splinters. +There’s material for everything you want if you +know where to find it. Shelter, food, fire are all +here for us as they were for the Indians. A +ranger who needs a roof all the time is not worth +his bacon.”</p> +<p>So, one by one, the principles of camping were +taught by the kindly old rancher; but the hints +which the girl gave were quite as valuable, for +Wayland was eager to show her that he could be, +and intended to be, a forester of the first class +or perish in the attempt.</p> +<p>McFarlane went farther and talked freely of +the forest and what it meant to the government. +“We’re all green at the work,” he said, “and we +old chaps are only holding the fort against the +thieves till you youngsters learn how to make +the best use of the domain.”</p> +<p>“I can see that it takes more than technical +training to enable a man to be Supervisor of a +forest,” conceded Wayland.</p> +<p>McFarlane was pleased with this remark. +“That’s true, too. It’s a big responsibility. +When I first came on, it was mainly patrolling; +but now, with a half dozen sawmills, and these +‘June Eleventh Homesteads,’ and the new ways +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +of marking timber, and the grazing and free-use +permits, the office work has doubled. And this +is only the beginning. Wait till Colorado has +two millions of people, and all these lower valleys +are clamoring for water. Then you’ll see a new +party spring up—right here in our state.”</p> +<p>Berrie was glowing with happiness. “Let’s +stay here till the end of the week,” she suggested. +“I’ve always wanted to camp on this lake, and +now I’m here I want time to enjoy it.”</p> +<p>“We’ll stay a day or two,” said her father; +“but I must get over to that ditch survey which +is being made at the head of Poplar, and then +Moore is coming over to look at some timber +on Porcupine.”</p> +<p>The young people cut willow rods and went +angling at the outlet of the lake with prodigious +success. The water rippled with trout, and in +half an hour they had all they could use for supper +and breakfast, and, behold, even as they were +returning with their spoil they met a covey of +grouse strolling leisurely down to the lake’s +edge. “Isn’t it a wonderful place!” exclaimed +the happy girl. “I wish we could stay a month.”</p> +<p>“It’s like being on the Swiss Family Robinson’s +Island. I never was more content,” he +said, fervently. “I wouldn’t mind staying here +all winter.”</p> +<p>“I would!” she laughed. “The snow falls +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +four feet deep up here. It’s likely there’s snow +on the divide this minute, and camping in the +snow isn’t so funny. Some people got snowed +in over at Deep Lake last year and nearly all their +horses starved before they could get them out. +This is a fierce old place in winter-time.”</p> +<p>“I can’t imagine it,” he said, indicating the +glowing amphitheater which inclosed the lake. +“See how warmly the sun falls into that high +basin! It’s all as beautiful as the Tyrol.”</p> +<p>The air at the moment was golden October, and +the dark clouds which lay to the east seemed the +wings of a departing rather than an approaching +storm; and even as they looked, a rainbow sprang +into being, arching the lake as if in assurance of +peace and plenty, and the young people, as they +turned to face it, stood so close together that +each felt the glow of the other’s shoulder. The +beauty of the scene seemed to bring them together +in body as in spirit, and they fell silent.</p> +<p>McFarlane seemed quite unconscious of any +necromancy at work upon his daughter. He +smoked his pipe, made notes in his field-book, +directing an occasional remark toward his apprentice, +enjoying in his tranquil, middle-age +way the beauty and serenity of the hour.</p> +<p>“This is the kind of thing that makes up for +a hard day’s ride,” he said, jocosely.</p> +<p>As the sunset came on, the young people again +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +loitered down to the water’s edge, and there, +seated side by side, on a rocky knoll, watched +the phantom gold lift from the willows and climb +slowly to the cliffs above, while the water deepened +in shadow, and busy muskrats marked its +glossy surface with long silvery lines. Mischievous +camp-birds peered at the couple from +the branches of the pines uttering satirical comment, +while squirrels, frankly insolent, dropped +cones upon their heads and barked in saucy glee.</p> +<p>Wayland forgot all the outside world, forgot +that he was studying to be a forest ranger, and +was alive only to the fact that in this most bewitching +place, in this most entrancing hour, he +had the companionship of a girl whose eyes +sought his with every new phase of the silent +and wonderful scene which shifted swiftly before +their eyes like a noiseless yet prodigious drama. +The blood in his thin body warmed. He forgot +his fatigue, his weakness. He was the poet and +the forest lover, and this the heart of the range.</p> +<p>Lightly the golden glory rose till only the +highest peaks retained its flame; then it leapt to +the clouds behind the peaks, and gorgeously lit +their somber sulphurous masses. The edges of +the pool grew black as night; the voice of the +stream grew stern; and a cold wind began to +fall from the heights, sliding like an invisible but +palpable icy cataract. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></p> +<p>At last the girl rose. “It is getting dark. I +must go back and get supper.”</p> +<p>“We don’t need any supper,” he protested.</p> +<p>“Father does, and you’ll be hungry before +morning,” she retorted, with sure knowledge of +men.</p> +<p>He turned from the scene reluctantly; but +once at the camp-fire cheerfully gave his best +efforts to the work in hand, seconding Berrie’s +skill as best he could.</p> +<p>The trout, deliciously crisp, and some potatoes +and batter-cakes made a meal that tempted even +his faint appetite, and when the dishes were +washed and the towels hung out to dry, deep +night possessed even the high summit of stately +Ptarmigan.</p> +<p>McFarlane then said: “I’ll just take a little +turn to see that the horses are all right, and then +I think we’d better close in for the night.”</p> +<p>When they were alone in the light of the fire, +Wayland turned to Berrie: “I’m glad you’re +here. It must be awesome to camp alone in a +wilderness; and yet, I suppose, I must learn to +do it.”</p> +<p>“Yes, the ranger often has to camp alone, ride +alone, and work alone for weeks at a time,” she +assured him. “A good trailer don’t mind a night +trip any more than he does a day trip, or if he +does he never admits it. Rain, snow, darkness, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +is all the same to him. Most of the boys are +fifteen to forty miles from the post-office.”</p> +<p>He smiled ruefully. “I begin to have new +doubts about this ranger business. It’s a little +more vigorous than I thought it was. Suppose +a fellow breaks a leg on one of those high trails?”</p> +<p>“He mustn’t!” she hastened to say. “He +can’t afford really to take reckless chances; but +then father won’t expect as much of you as he +does of the old-stagers. You’ll have plenty of +time to get used to it.”</p> +<p>“I may be like the old man’s cow and the +green shavings, just as I’m getting used to it +I’ll die.”</p> +<p>She didn’t laugh at this. “You mustn’t be +rash; don’t jump into any hard jobs for the +present; let the other fellow do it.”</p> +<p>“But that’s not very manly. If I go into the +work I ought to be able to take my share of any +task that turns up.”</p> +<p>“You’d better go slow,” she argued. “Wait +till you get hardened to it. You need something +over your shoulders now,” she added; and rose +and laid a blanket over him. “You’re tired; +you’ll take a chill if you’re not careful.”</p> +<p>“You’re very considerate,” he said, looking +up at her gratefully. “But it makes me feel +like a child to think I need such care. If honestly +trying, if going up against these hills and winds +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +with Spartan courage will do me good, I’m for it. +I’m resolved to show to you and your good +father that I can learn to ride and pack and cut +trail, and do all the rest of it—there’s some honor +in qualifying as a forester, and I’m going to do +it.”</p> +<p>“Of course there isn’t much in it for you. The +pay, even of a full ranger, isn’t much, after you +count out his outlay for horses and saddles and +their feed, and his own feed. It don’t leave +so very much of his ninety dollars a month.”</p> +<p>“I’m not thinking of that,” he retorted. “If +you had once seen a doctor shake his head over +you, as I have, you’d think just being here in this +glorious spot, as I am to-night, would be compensation +enough. It’s a joy to be in the world, +and a delight to have you for my teacher.”</p> +<p>She was silent under the pleasure of his praise, +and he went on: “I <i>know</i> I’m better, and, I’m +perfectly certain I can regain my strength. The +very odor of these pines and the power of these +winds will bring it back to me. See me now, and +think how I looked when I came here six weeks +ago.”</p> +<p>She looked at him with fond agreement. +“You <i>are</i> better. When I saw you first I surely +thought you were—”</p> +<p>“I know what you thought—and forget it, +<i>please</i>! Think of me as one who has touched +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +mother earth again and is on the way to being +made a giant. You can’t imagine how marvelous, +how life-giving all this is to me. It is poetry, +it is prophecy, it is fulfilment. I am fully alive +again.”</p> +<p>McFarlane, upon his return, gave some advice +relating to the care of horses. “All this stock +which is accustomed to a barn or a pasture will +quit you,” he warned. “Watch your broncos. +Put them on the outward side of your camp when +you bed down, and pitch your tent near the trail, +then you will hear the brutes if they start back. +Some men tie their stock all up; but I usually +picket my saddle-horse and hobble the rest.”</p> +<p>It was a delightful hour for schooling, and Wayland +would have been content to sit there till +morning listening; but the air bit, and at last +the Supervisor asked: “Have you made your +bed? If you have, turn in. I shall get you out +early to-morrow.” As he saw the bed, he added: +“I see you’ve laid out a bed of boughs. That +shows how Eastern you are. We don’t do that +out here. It’s too cold in this climate, and it’s +too much work. You want to hug the ground—if +it’s dry.”</p> +<p>The weary youth went to his couch with a +sense of timorous elation, for he had never before +slept beneath the open sky. Over him the giant +fir—tall as a steeple—dropped protecting shadow, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +and looking up he could see the firelight +flickering on the wide-spread branches. His bed +seemed to promise all the dreams and restful +drowse which the books on outdoor life had described, +and close by in her tiny little canvas +house he could hear the girl in low-voiced conversation +with her sire. All conditions seemed +right for slumber, and yet slumber refused to +come!</p> +<p>After the Supervisor had rolled himself in the +blanket, long after all sounds had ceased in the +tent, there still remained for the youth a score of +manifold excitations to wakefulness. Down on +the lake the muskrats and beavers were at their +work. Nocturnal birds uttered uncanny, disturbing +cries. Some animal with stealthy crackling +tread was ranging the hillside, and the roar of +the little fall, so far from lulling him to sleep—as +he had imagined it would—stimulated his +imagination till he could discern in it the beat +of scurrying wings and the patter of pernicious +padded feet. “If I am appalled by the wilderness +now, what would it seem to me were I +alone!” he whispered.</p> +<p>Then, too, his bed of boughs discovered unforeseen +humps and knobs, and by the time he +had adjusted himself to their discomfort, it became +evident that his blankets were both too +thin and too short. And the gelid air sweeping +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +down from the high places submerged him as if +with a flood of icy water. In vain he turned and +twisted within his robes. No sooner were his +shoulders covered and comfortable than his hip-bones +began to ache. Later on the blood of his +feet congealed, and in the effort to wrap them +more closely, he uncovered his neck and shoulders. +The frost became a wolf, the night an oppressor. +“I must have a different outfit,” he decided. +And then thinking that this was but early autumn, +he added: “What will it be a month later?” +He began to doubt his ability to measure up to +the heroic standard of a forest patrol.</p> +<p>The firelight flickered low, and a prowling animal +daringly sniffed about the camp, pawing at +the castaway fragments of the evening meal. +The youth was rigid with fear. “Is it a bear? +Shall I call the Supervisor?” he asked himself.</p> +<p>He felt sadly unprotected, and wished McFarlane +nearer at hand. “It may be a lion, but +probably it is only a coyote, or a porcupine,” he +concluded, and lay still for what seemed like +hours waiting for the beast to gorge himself +and go away.</p> +<p>He longed for morning with intense desire, +and watched an amazingly luminous star which +hung above the eastern cliff, hoping to see it pale +and die in dawn light, but it did not; and the +wind bit even sharper. His legs ached almost +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +to the cramping-point, and his hip-bones protruded +like knots on a log. “I didn’t know I +had door-knobs on my hips,” he remarked, with +painful humor, and, looking down at his feet, +he saw that a thick rime was gathering on his +blanket. “This sleeping out at night isn’t what +the books crack it up to be,” he groaned again, +drawing his feet up to the middle of his bed +to warm them. “Shall I resign to-morrow? +No, I’ll stay with it; but I’ll have more clothing. +I’ll have blankets six inches thick. Heaps of +blankets—the fleecy kind—I’ll have an air-mattress.” +His mind luxuriated in these details +till he fell into an uneasy drowse.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VI_STORMBOUND' id='VI_STORMBOUND'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +<h2>VI</h2> +<h3>STORM-BOUND</h3> +</div> + +<p>Wayland was awakened by the mellow +voice of his chief calling: “<i>All out! All out! +Daylight down the creek!</i>” Breathing a prayer of +thankfulness, the boy sat up and looked about +him. “The long night is over at last, and I am +alive!” he said, and congratulated himself.</p> +<p>He drew on his shoes and, stiff and shivering, +stood about in helpless misery, while McFarlane +kicked the scattered, charred logs together, and +fanned the embers into a blaze with his hat. +It was heartening to see the flames leap up, +flinging wide their gorgeous banners of heat and +light, and in their glow the tenderfoot ranger +rapidly recovered his courage, though his teeth +still chattered and the forest was dark.</p> +<p>“How did you sleep?” asked the Supervisor.</p> +<p>“First rate—at least during the latter part +of the night,” Wayland briskly lied.</p> +<p>“That’s good. I was afraid that Adirondack +bed of yours might let the white wolf in.”</p> +<p>“My blankets did seem a trifle thin,” confessed +Norcross. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></p> +<p>“It don’t pay to sleep cold,” the Supervisor +went on. “A man wants to wake up refreshed, +not tired out with fighting the night wind and +frost. I always carry a good bed.”</p> +<p>It was instructive to see how quietly and +methodically the old mountaineer went about his +task of getting the breakfast. First he cut and +laid a couple of eight-inch logs on either side of +the fire, so that the wind drew through them +properly, then placing his dutch-oven cover on +the fire, he laid the bottom part where the flames +touched it. Next he filled his coffee-pot with +water, and set it on the coals. From his pannier +he took his dishes and the flour and salt and pepper, +arranging them all within reach, and at last +laid some slices of bacon in the skillet.</p> +<p>At this stage of the work a smothered cry, +half yawn, half complaint, came from the tent. +“Oh, hum! Is it morning?” inquired Berrie.</p> +<p>“Morning!” replied her father. “It’s going +toward noon. You get up or you’ll have no +breakfast.”</p> +<p>Thereupon Wayland called: “Can I get you +anything, Miss Berrie? Would you like some +warm water?”</p> +<p>“What for?” interposed McFarlane, before +the girl could reply.</p> +<p>“To bathe in,” replied the youth.</p> +<p>“To bathe in! If a daughter of mine should +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +ask for warm water to wash with I’d throw her +in the creek.”</p> +<p>Berrie chuckled. “Sometimes I think daddy +has no feeling for me. I reckon he thinks I’m +a boy.”</p> +<p>“Hot water is debilitating, and very bad for +the complexion,” retorted her father. “Ice-cold +water is what you need. And if you don’t get +out o’ there in five minutes I’ll dowse you with +a dipperful.”</p> +<p>This reminded Wayland that he had not yet +made his own toilet, and, seizing soap, towel, +and brushes, he hurried away down to the beach +where he came face to face with the dawn. The +splendor of it smote him full in the eyes. From +the waveless surface of the water a spectral mist +was rising, a light veil, through which the stupendous +cliffs loomed three thousand feet in +height, darkly shadowed, dim and far. The +willows along the western marge burned as if +dipped in liquid gold, and on the lofty crags the +sun’s coming created keen-edged shadows, violet +as ink. Truly this forestry business was not +so bad after all. It had its compensations.</p> +<p>Back at the camp-fire he found Berrie at work, +glowing, vigorous, laughing. Her comradeship +with her father was very charming, and at the +moment she was rallying him on his method of +bread-mixing. “You should rub the lard into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +the flour,” she said. “Don’t be afraid to get +your hands into it—after they are clean. You +can’t mix bread with a spoon.”</p> +<p>“Sis, I made camp bread for twenty years +afore you were born.”</p> +<p>“It’s a wonder you lived to tell of it,” she retorted, +and took the pan away from him. “That’s +another thing <i>you</i> must learn,” she said to Wayland. +“You must know how to make bread. +You can’t expect to find bake-shops or ranchers +along the way.”</p> +<p>In the heat of the fire, in the charm of the +girl’s presence, the young man forgot the discomforts +of the night, and as they sat at breakfast, +and the sun rising over the high summits +flooded them with warmth and good cheer, and +the frost melted like magic from the tent, the +experience had all the satisfying elements of a +picnic. It seemed that nothing remained to do; +but McFarlane said: “Well, now, you youngsters +wash up and pack whilst I reconnoiter the stock.” +And with his saddle and bridle on his shoulder +he went away down the trail.</p> +<p>Under Berrie’s direction Wayland worked +busily putting the camp equipment in proper +parcels, taking no special thought of time till +the tent was down and folded, the panniers filled +and closed, and the fire carefully covered. Then +the girl said: “I hope the horses haven’t been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +stampeded. There are bears in this valley, and +horses are afraid of bears. Father ought to have +been back before this. I hope they haven’t +quit us.”</p> +<p>“Shall I go and see?”</p> +<p>“No, he’ll bring ’em—if they’re in the land of +the living. He picketed his saddle-horse, so +he’s not afoot. Nobody can teach him anything +about trailing horses, and, besides, you might +get lost. You’d better keep close to camp.”</p> +<p>Thereupon Wayland put aside all responsibility. +“Let’s see if we can catch some more +fish,” he urged.</p> +<p>To this she agreed, and together they went +again to the outlet of the lake—where the trout +could be seen darting to and fro on the clear, +dark flood—and there cast their flies till they had +secured ten good-sized fish.</p> +<p>“We’ll stop now,” declared the girl. “I don’t +believe in being wasteful.”</p> +<p>Once more at the camp they prepared the fish +for the pan. The sun suddenly burned hot and +the lake was still as brass, but great, splendid, +leisurely, gleaming clouds were sailing in from the +west, all centering about Chief Audobon, and the +experienced girl looked often at the sky. “I +don’t like the feel of the air. See that gray cloud +spreading out over the summits of the range, +that means something more than a shower. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +do hope daddy will overtake the horses before +they cross the divide. It’s going to pour up +there.”</p> +<p>“What can I do?”</p> +<p>“Nothing. We’ll stay right here and get dinner +for him. He’ll be hungry when he gets +back.”</p> +<p>As they were unpacking the panniers and getting +out the dishes, thunder broke from the high +crags above the lake, and the girl called out:</p> +<p>“Quick! It’s going to rain! We must reset +the tent and get things under cover.”</p> +<p>Once more he was put to shame by the decision, +the skill, and the strength with which she +went about re-establishing the camp. She led, +he followed in every action. In ten minutes the +canvas was up, the beds rolled, the panniers protected, +the food stored safely; but they were none +too soon, for the thick gray veil of rain, which +had clothed the loftiest crags for half an hour, +swung out over the water—leaden-gray under +its folds—and with a roar which began in the +tall pines—a roar which deepened, hushed only +when the thunder crashed resoundingly from +crag to crest—the tempest fell upon the camp +and the world of sun and odorous pine vanished +almost instantly, and a dark, threatening, and +forbidding world took its place.</p> +<p>But the young people—huddled close together +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +beneath the tent—would have enjoyed the change +had it not been for the thought of the Supervisor. +“I hope he took his slicker,” the girl said, between +the tearing, ripping flashes of the lightning. +“It’s raining hard up there.”</p> +<p>“How quickly it came. Who would have +thought it could rain like this after so beautiful +a morning?”</p> +<p>“It storms when it storms—in the mountains,” +she responded, with the sententious air of +her father. “You never can tell what the sky +is going to do up here. It is probably snowing +on the high divide. Looks now as though those +cayuses pulled out sometime in the night and +have hit the trail for home. That’s the trouble +with stall-fed stock. They’ll quit you any time +they feel cold and hungry. Here comes the hail!” +she shouted, as a sharper, more spiteful roar +sounded far away and approaching. “Now keep +from under!”</p> +<p>“What will your father do?” he called.</p> +<p>“Don’t worry about him. He’s at home any +place there’s a tree. He’s probably under a balsam +somewhere, waiting for this ice to spill out. +The only point is, they may get over the divide, +and if they do it will be slippery coming back.”</p> +<p>For the first time the thought that the Supervisor +might not be able to return entered Wayland’s +mind; but he said nothing of his fear. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></p> +<p>The hail soon changed to snow, great, clinging, +drowsy, soft, slow-moving flakes, and with their +coming the roar died away and the forest became +as silent as a grave of bronze. Nothing moved, +save the thick-falling, feathery, frozen vapor, +and the world was again very beautiful and very +mysterious.</p> +<p>“We must keep the fire going,” warned the +girl. “It will be hard to start after this +soaking.”</p> +<p>He threw upon the fire all of the wood which +lay near, and Berrie, taking the ax, went to the +big fir and began to chop off the dry branches +which hung beneath, working almost as effectively +as a man. Wayland insisted on taking a +turn with the tool; but his efforts were so awkward +that she laughed and took it away again. +“You’ll have to take lessons in swinging an ax,” +she said. “That’s part of the job.”</p> +<p>Gradually the storm lightened, the snow +changed back into rain, and finally to mist; +but up on the heights the clouds still rolled wildly, +and through their openings the white drifts +bleakly shone.</p> +<p>“It’s all in the trip,” said Berrie. “You have +to take the weather as it comes on the trail.” +As the storm lessened she resumed the business +of cooking the midday meal, and at two o’clock +they were able to eat in comparative comfort, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +though the unmelted snow still covered the trees, +and water dripped from the branches.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it beautiful!” exclaimed Wayland, with +glowing boyish face. “The landscape is like a +Christmas card. In its way it’s quite as beautiful +as that golden forest we rode through.”</p> +<p>“It wouldn’t be so beautiful if you had to wallow +through ten miles of it,” she sagely responded. +“Daddy will be wet to the skin, for I found +he didn’t take his slicker. However, the sun may +be out before night. That’s the way the thing +goes in the hills.”</p> +<p>To the youth, though the peaks were storm-hid, +the afternoon was joyous. Berrie was a +sweet companion. Under her supervision he +practised at chopping wood and took a hand at +cooking. At her suggestion he stripped the tarpaulin +from her father’s bed and stretched it +over a rope before the tent, thus providing a +commodious kitchen and dining-room. Under +this roof they sat and talked of everything except +what they should do if the father did not +return, and as they talked they grew to even +closer understanding.</p> +<p>Though quite unlearned of books, she had +something which was much more piquant than +anything which theaters and novels could give—she +possessed a marvelous understanding of the +natural world in which she lived. As the companion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +of her father on many of his trips, she +had absorbed from him, as well as from the +forest, a thousand observations of plant and +animal life. Seemingly she had nothing of the +woman’s fear of the wilderness, she scarcely +acknowledged any awe of it. Of the bears, and +other predatory beasts, she spoke carelessly.</p> +<p>“Bears are harmless if you let ’em alone,” she +said, “and the mountain-lion is a great big bluff. +He won’t fight, you can’t make him fight; but +the mother lion will. She’s dangerous when she +has cubs—most animals are. I was out hunting +grouse one day with a little twenty-two rifle, +when all at once, as I looked up along a rocky +point I was crossing, I saw a mountain-lion looking +at me. First I thought I’d let drive at him; +but the chances were against my getting him +from there, so I climbed up above him—or where +I thought he was—and while I was looking for +him I happened to glance to my right, and there +he was about fifty feet away looking at me pleasant +as you please. Didn’t seem to be mad at +all—’peared like he was just wondering what I’d +do next. I jerked my gun into place, but he +faded away. I crawled around to get behind +him, and just when I reached the ledge on which +he had been standing a few minutes before, I +saw him just where I’d been. He had traded +places with me. I began to have that creepy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +feeling. He was so silent and so kind of pleasant-looking +I got leery of him. It just seemed like +as though I’d dreamed him. He didn’t seem real.”</p> +<p>Wayland shuddered. “You foolish girl! Why +didn’t you run?”</p> +<p>“I did. I began to figure then that this was +a mother lion, and that her cubs were close by, +and that she could just as well sneak up and drop +on me from above as not. So I got down and left +her alone. It was her popping up now here and +now there like a ghost that locoed me. I was sure +scared.”</p> +<p>Wayland did not enjoy this tale. “I never +heard of such folly. Did your father learn of +that adventure?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I told him.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t he forbid your hunting any more?”</p> +<p>“No, indeed! Why should he? He just said +it probably was a lioness, and that it was just as +well to let her alone. He knows I’m no chicken.”</p> +<p>“How about your mother—does she approve +of such expeditions?”</p> +<p>“No, mother worries more or less when I’m away; +but then she knows it don’t do any good. I’m +taking all kinds of chances every day, anyhow.”</p> +<p>He had to admit that she was better able to +care for herself in the wilderness than most men—even +Western men—and though he had not +yet witnessed a display of her skill with a rifle, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +he was ready to believe that she could shoot as +well as her sire. Nevertheless, he liked her better +when engaged in purely feminine duties, and +he led the talk back to subjects concerning which +her speech was less blunt and manlike.</p> +<p>He liked her when she was joking, for delicious +little curves of laughter played about her lips. +She became very amusing, as she told of her +“visits East,” and of her embarrassments in the +homes of city friends. “I just have to own up +that about all the schooling I’ve got is from the +magazines. Sometimes I wish I had pulled out +for town when I was about fourteen; but, you +see, I didn’t feel like leaving mother, and she +didn’t feel like letting me go—and so I just got +what I could at Bear Tooth.” She sprang up. +“There’s a patch of blue sky. Let’s go see if we +can’t get a grouse.”</p> +<p>The snow had nearly all sunk into the ground +on their level; but it still lay deep on the heights +above, and the torn masses of vapor still clouded +the range. “Father has surely had to go over +the divide,” she said, as they walked down the +path along the lake shore. “He’ll be late getting +back, and a plate of hot chicken will seem +good to him.”</p> +<p>Together they strolled along the edge of the +willows. “The grouse come down to feed about +this time,” she said. “We’ll put up a covey soon.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p> +<p>It seemed to him as though he were re-living +the experiences of his ancestors—the pioneers of +Michigan—as he walked this wilderness with this +intrepid huntress whose alert eyes took note of +every moving thing. She was delightfully unconscious +of self, of sex, of any doubt or fear. +A lovely Diana—strong and true and sweet.</p> +<p>Within a quarter of a mile they found their +birds, and she killed four with five shots. “This +is all we need,” she said, “and I don’t believe in +killing for the sake of killing. Rangers should +set good examples in way of game preservation. +They are deputy game-wardens in most states, +and good ones, too.”</p> +<p>They stopped for a time on a high bank above +the lake, while the sunset turned the storm-clouds +into mountains of brass and iron, with +sulphurous caves and molten glowing ledges. +This grandiose picture lasted but a few minutes, +and then the Western gates closed and all was +again gray and forbidding. “Open and shut is +a sign of wet,” quoted Berrie, cheerily.</p> +<p>The night rose formidably from the valley while +they ate their supper; but Berrie remained tranquil. +“Those horses probably went clean back +to the ranch. If they did, daddy can’t possibly +get back before eight o’clock, and he may not +get back till to-morrow.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VII_THE_WALK_IN_THE_RAIN' id='VII_THE_WALK_IN_THE_RAIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +<h2>VII</h2> +<h3>THE WALK IN THE RAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Norcross, with his city training, was +acutely conscious of the delicacy of the +situation. In his sister’s circle a girl left alone +in this way with a man would have been very +seriously embarrassed; but it was evident that +Berrie took it all joyously, innocently. Their +being together was something which had happened +in the natural course of weather, a condition +for which they were in no way responsible. +Therefore she permitted herself to be frankly +happy in the charm of their enforced intimacy.</p> +<p>She had never known a youth of his quality. +He was so considerate, so refined, so quick of +understanding, and so swift to serve. He filled +her mind to the exclusion of unimportant matters +like the snow, which was beginning again; indeed, +her only anxiety concerned his health, and +as he toiled amid the falling flakes, intent upon +heaping up wood enough to last out the night, +she became solicitous.</p> +<p>“You will be soaked,” she warningly cried. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +“Don’t stay out any more. Come to the fire. +I’ll bring in the wood.”</p> +<p>Something primeval, some strength he did not +know he possessed sustained him, and he toiled +on. “Suppose this snow keeps falling?” he retorted. +“The Supervisor will not be able to get +back to-night—perhaps not for a couple of +nights. We will need a lot of fuel.”</p> +<p>He did not voice the fear of the storm which +filled his thought; but the girl understood it. +“It won’t be very cold,” she calmly replied. “It +never is during these early blizzards; and, besides, +all we need to do is to drop down the trail +ten miles and we’ll be entirely out of it.”</p> +<p>“I’ll feel safer with plenty of wood,” he argued; +but soon found it necessary to rest from his +labors. Coming in to camp, he seated himself +beside her on a roll of blankets, and so together +they tended the fire and watched the darkness +roll over the lake till the shining crystals seemed +to drop from a measureless black arch, soundless +and oppressive. The wind died away, and the +trees stood as if turned into bronze, moveless, +save when a small branch gave way and dropped +its rimy burden, or a squirrel leaped from one +top to another. Even the voice of the waterfall +seemed muffled and remote.</p> +<p>“I’m a long way from home and mother,” +Wayland said, with a smile; “but—I like it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>“Isn’t it fun?” she responded. “In a way it’s +nicer on account of the storm. But you are not +dressed right; you should have waterproof boots. +You never can tell when you may be set afoot. +You should always go prepared for rain and +snow, and, above all, have an extra pair of thick +stockings. Your feet are soaked now, aren’t +they?”</p> +<p>“They are; but your father told me to always +dry my boots on my feet, otherwise they’d shrink +out of shape.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, too; but you’d better take ’em +off and wring out your socks or else put on dry +ones.”</p> +<p>“You insist on my playing the invalid,” he +complained, “and that makes me angry. When +I’ve been over here a month you’ll find me a +glutton for hardship. I shall be a bear, a grizzly, +fearful to contemplate. My roar will affright +you.”</p> +<p>She laughed like a child at his ferocity. +“You’ll have to change a whole lot,” she said, +and drew the blanket closer about his shoulders. +“Just now your job is to keep warm and dry. +I hope you won’t get lonesome over here.”</p> +<p>“I’m not going to open a book or read a newspaper. +I’m not going to write to a single soul +except you. I’ll be obliged to report to you, +won’t I?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></p> +<p>“I’m not the Supervisor.”</p> +<p>“You’re the next thing to it,” he quickly retorted. +“You’ve been my board of health from +the very first. I should have fled for home long +ago had it not been for you.”</p> +<p>Her eyes fell under his glance. “You’ll get +pretty tired of things over here. It’s one of the +lonesomest stations in the forest.”</p> +<p>“I’ll get lonesome for you; but not for the +East.” This remark, or rather the tone in which +it was uttered, brought another flush of consciousness +to the girl’s face.</p> +<p>“What time is it now?” she asked, abruptly.</p> +<p>He looked at his watch. “Half after eight.”</p> +<p>“If father isn’t on this side of the divide now +he won’t try to cross. If he’s coming down the +slope he’ll be here in an hour, although that trail +is a tolerably tough proposition this minute. A +patch of dead timber on a dark night is sure a +nuisance, even to a good man. He may not +make it.”</p> +<p>“Shall I fire my gun?”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“As a signal to him.”</p> +<p>This amused her. “Daddy don’t need any +hint about direction—what he needs is a light +to see the twist of the trail through those fallen +logs.”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t I rig up a torch and go to meet him?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></p> +<p>She put her hand on his arm. “You stay +right here!” she commanded. “You couldn’t +follow that trail five minutes.”</p> +<p>“You have a very poor opinion of my skill.”</p> +<p>“No, I haven’t; but I know how hard it is +to keep direction on a night like this and I don’t +want you wandering around in the timber. +Father can take care of himself. He’s probably +sitting under a big tree smoking his pipe before +his fire—or else he’s at home. He knows we’re +all right, and we are. We have wood and grub, +and plenty of blankets, and a roof over us. You +can make your bed under this fly,” she said, looking +up at the canvas. “It beats the old balsam +as a roof. You mustn’t sleep cold again.”</p> +<p>“I think I’d better sit up and keep the fire +going,” he replied, heroically. “There’s a big +log out there that I’m going to bring in to roll +up on the windward side.”</p> +<p>“It’ll be cold and wet early in the morning, +and I don’t like to hunt kindling in the snow,” +she said. “I always get everything ready the +night before. I wish you had a better bed. It +seems selfish of me to have the tent while you are +cold.”</p> +<p>One by one—under her supervision—he made +preparations for morning. He cut some shavings +from a dead, dry branch of fir and put them +under the fly, and brought a bucket of water +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +from the creek, and then together they dragged +up the dead tree.</p> +<p>Had the young man been other than he was, +the girl’s purity, candor, and self-reliance would +have conquered him, and when she withdrew to +the little tent and let fall the frail barrier between +them, she was as safe from intrusion as if she had +taken refuge behind gates of triple brass. Nothing +in all his life had moved him so deeply as her +solicitude, her sweet trust in his honor, and he +sat long in profound meditation. Any man +would be rich in the ownership of her love, he +admitted. That he possessed her pity and her +friendship he knew, and he began to wonder if +he had made a deeper appeal to her than this.</p> +<p>“Can it be that I am really a man to her,” he +thought, “I who am only a poor weakling whom +the rain and snow can appall?”</p> +<p>Then he thought of the effect of this night +upon her life. What would Clifford Belden do +now? To what deeps would his rage descend +if he should come to know of it?</p> +<p>Berrie was serene. Twice she spoke from her +couch to say: “You’d better go to bed. Daddy +can’t get here till to-morrow now.”</p> +<p>“I’ll stay up awhile yet. My boots aren’t +entirely dried out.”</p> +<p>As the flame sank low the cold bit, and he +built up the half-burned logs so that they blazed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +again. He worked as silently as he could; but +the girl again spoke, with sweet authority: +“Haven’t you gone to bed yet?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I’ve been asleep. I only got up to +rebuild the fire.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid you’re cold.”</p> +<p>“I’m as comfortable as I deserve; it’s all +schooling, you know. Please go to sleep again.” +His teeth were chattering as he spoke, but he +added: “I’m all right.”</p> +<p>After a silence she said: “You must not get +chilled. Bring your bed into the tent. There +is room for you.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, that isn’t necessary. I’m standing +it very well.”</p> +<p>“You’ll be sick!” she urged, in a voice of +alarm. “Please drag your bed inside the door. +What would I do if you should have pneumonia +to-morrow? You must not take any risk of a +fever.”</p> +<p>The thought of a sheltered spot, of something +to break the remorseless wind, overcame his +scruples, and he drew his bed inside the tent and +rearranged it there.</p> +<p>“You’re half frozen,” she said. “Your teeth +are chattering.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t so much the cold,” he stammered. +“I’m tired.”</p> +<p>“You poor boy!” she exclaimed, and rose in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +her bed. “I’ll get up and heat some water for +you.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be all right, in a few moments,” he said. +“Please go to sleep. I shall be snug as a bug +in a moment.”</p> +<p>She watched his shadowy motions from her +bed, and when at last he had nestled into his +blankets, she said: “If you don’t lose your chill +I’ll heat a rock and put at your feet.”</p> +<p>He was ready to cry out in shame of his weakness; +but he lay silent till he could command +his voice, then he said: “That would drive me +from the country in disgrace. Think of what +the fellows down below will say when they know +of my cold feet.”</p> +<p>“They won’t hear of it; and, besides, it is +better to carry a hot-water bag than to be laid +up with a fever.”</p> +<p>Her anxiety lessened as his voice resumed its +pleasant tenor flow. “Dear girl,” he said, “no +one could have been sweeter—more like a +guardian angel to me. Don’t place me under +any greater obligation. Go to sleep. I am +better—much better now.”</p> +<p>She did not speak for a few moments, then +in a voice that conveyed to him a knowledge +that his words of endearment had deeply moved +her, she softly said: “Good night.”</p> +<p>He heard her sigh drowsily thereafter once or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +twice, and then she slept, and her slumber redoubled +in him his sense of guardianship, of responsibility. +Lying there in the shelter of her +tent, the whole situation seemed simple, innocent, +and poetic; but looked at from the standpoint +of Clifford Belden it held an accusation.</p> +<p>“It cannot be helped,” he said. “The only +thing we can do is to conceal the fact that we +spent the night beneath this tent alone.”</p> +<p>In the belief that the way would clear with +the dawn, he, too, fell asleep, while the fire +sputtered and smudged in the fitful mountain +wind.</p> +<p>The second dawn came slowly, as though +crippled by the storm and walled back by the +clouds. Gradually, austerely, the bleak, white +peaks began to define themselves above the firs. +The camp-birds called cheerily from the wet +branches which overhung the smoldering embers +of the fire, and so at last day was abroad +in the sky.</p> +<p>With a dull ache in his bones, Wayland crept +out to the fire and set to work fanning the coals +with his hat, as he had seen the Supervisor do. +He worked desperately till one of the embers +began to angrily sparkle and to smoke. Then +slipping away out of earshot he broke an armful +of dry fir branches to heap above the wet, charred +logs. Soon these twigs broke into flame, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +Berrie, awakened by the crackle of the pine +branches, called out: “Is it daylight?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but it’s a very <i>dark</i> daylight. Don’t +leave your warm bed for the dampness and +cold out here; stay where you are; I’ll get +breakfast.”</p> +<p>“How are you this morning? Did you sleep?”</p> +<p>“Fine!”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid you had a bad night,” she insisted, +in a tone which indicated her knowledge +of his suffering.</p> +<p>“Camp life has its disadvantages,” he admitted, +as he put the coffee-pot on the fire. +“But I’m feeling better now. I never fried a +bird in my life, but I’m going to try it this morning. +I have some water heating for your +bath.” He put the soap, towel, and basin of +hot water just inside the tent flap. “Here it is. +I’m going to bathe in the lake. I must show my +hardihood.”</p> +<p>He heard her protesting as he went off down +the bank, but his heart was resolute. “I’m not +dead yet,” he said, grimly. “An invalid who +can spend two such nights as these, and still +face a cold wind, has some vitality in his bones +after all.”</p> +<p>When he returned he found the girl full +dressed, alert, and glowing; but she greeted +him with a touch of shyness and self-consciousness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +new to her, and her eyes veiled themselves +before his glance.</p> +<p>“<i>Now</i>, where do you suppose the Supervisor +is?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I hope he’s at home,” she replied, quite seriously. +“I’d hate to think of him camped in the +high country without bedding or tent.”</p> +<p>“Oughtn’t I to take a turn up the trail and +see? I feel guilty somehow—I must do something!”</p> +<p>“You can’t help matters any by hoofing about +in the mud. No, we’ll just hold the fort till he +comes, that’s what he’ll expect us to do.”</p> +<p>He submitted once more to the force of her +argument, and they ate breakfast in such intimacy +and good cheer that the night’s discomforts +and anxieties counted for little. As the sun +broke through the clouds Berrie hung out the +bedding in order that its dampness might be +warmed away.</p> +<p>“We may have to camp here again to-night,” +she explained, demurely.</p> +<p>“Worse things could happen than that,” he +gallantly answered. “I wouldn’t mind a month +of it, only I shouldn’t want it to rain or snow all +the time.”</p> +<p>“Poor boy! You did suffer, didn’t you? I +was afraid you would. Did you sleep at all?” +she asked, tenderly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></p> +<p>“Oh yes, after I came inside; but, of course, I +was more or less restless expecting your father +to ride up, and then it’s all rather exciting business +to a novice. I could hear all sorts of birds +and beasts stepping and fluttering about. I was +scared in spite of my best resolution.”</p> +<p>“That’s funny; I never feel that way. I slept +like a log after I knew you were comfortable. +You must have a better bed and more blankets. +It’s always cold up here.”</p> +<p>The sunlight was short-lived. The clouds settled +over the peaks, and ragged wisps of gray +vapor dropped down the timbered slopes of the +prodigious amphitheater in which the lake lay. +Again Berrie made everything snug while her +young woodsman toiled at bringing logs for the +fire.</p> +<p>In truth, he was more elated than he had been +since leaving school, for he was not only doing +a man’s work in the world, he was serving a +woman in the immemorial way of the hewer of +wood and the carrier of water. His fatigue and +the chill of the morning wore away, and he took +vast pride in dragging long poles down the hillside, +forcing Berrie to acknowledge that he was +astonishingly strong. “But don’t overdo it,” +she warned.</p> +<p>At last fully provided for, they sat contentedly +side by side under the awning and watched the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +falling rain as it splashed and sizzled on the sturdy +fire. “It’s a little like being shipwrecked on a +desert island, isn’t it?” he said. “As if our boats +had drifted away.”</p> +<p>At noon she again prepared an elaborate meal. +She served potatoes and grouse, hot biscuit with +sugar syrup, and canned peaches, and coffee done +to just the right color and aroma. He declared +it wonderful, and they ate with repeated wishes +that the Supervisor might turn up in time to +share their feast; but he did not. Then Berrie +said, firmly: “Now you must take a snooze, you +look tired.”</p> +<p>He was, in truth, not only drowsy but lame +and tired. Therefore, he yielded to her suggestion.</p> +<p>She covered him with blankets and put him +away like a child. “Now you have a good sleep,” +she said, tenderly. “I’ll call you when daddy +comes.”</p> +<p>With a delicious sense of her protecting care +he lay for a few moments listening to the drip +of the water on the tent, then drifted away into +peace and silence.</p> +<p>When he woke the ground was again covered +with snow, and the girl was feeding the fire with +wood which her own hands had supplied.</p> +<p>Hearing him stir, she turned and fixed her +eyes upon him with clear, soft gaze. “How do +you feel by now?” she asked. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p> +<p>“Quite made over,” he replied, rising alertly.</p> +<p>His cheer, however, was only pretense. He +was greatly worried. “Something has happened +to your father,” he said. “His horse has thrown +him, or he has slipped and fallen.” His peace +and exultation were gone. “How far is it down +to the ranger station?”</p> +<p>“About twelve miles.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you think we’d better close camp and +go down there? It is now three o’clock; we can +walk it in five hours.”</p> +<p>She shook her head. “No, I think we’d better +stay right here. It’s a long, hard walk, and +the trail is muddy.”</p> +<p>“But, dear girl,” he began, desperately, “it +won’t do for us to camp here—alone—in this +way another night. What will Cliff say?”</p> +<p>She flamed red, then whitened. “I don’t care +what Cliff thinks—I’m done with him—and no +one that I really care about would blame us.” +She was fully aware of his anxiety now. “It +isn’t our fault.”</p> +<p>“It will be <i>my</i> fault if I keep you here longer!” +he answered. “We must reach a telephone and +send word out. Something may have happened +to your father.”</p> +<p>“I’m not worried a bit about him. It may +be that there’s been a big snowfall up above us—or +else a windstorm. The trail may be blocked; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +but don’t worry. He may have to go round by +Lost Lake pass.” She pondered a moment. “I +reckon you’re right. We’d better pack up and +rack down the trail to the ranger’s cabin. Not +on my account, but on yours. I’m afraid you’ve +taken cold.”</p> +<p>“I’m all right, except I’m very lame; but I am +anxious to go on. By the way, is this ranger +Settle married?”</p> +<p>“No, his station is one of the lonesomest cabins +on the forest. No woman will stay there.”</p> +<p>This made Wayland ponder. “Nevertheless,” +he decided, “we’ll go. After all, the man is a forest +officer, and you are the Supervisor’s daughter.”</p> +<p>She made no further protest, but busied herself +closing the panniers and putting away the +camp utensils. She seemed to recognize that +his judgment was sound.</p> +<p>It was after three when they left the tent and +started down the trail, carrying nothing but a +few toilet articles.</p> +<p>He stopped at the edge of the clearing. “Should +we have left a note for the Supervisor?”</p> +<p>She pointed to their footprints. “There’s all +the writing he needs,” she assured him, leading +the way at a pace which made him ache. She +plashed plumply into the first puddle in the path. +“No use dodging ’em,” she called over her +shoulder, and he soon saw that she was right. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></p> +<p>The trees were dripping, the willows heavy +with water, and the mud ankle-deep—in places—but +she pushed on steadily, and he, following in +her tracks, could only marvel at her strength +and sturdy self-reliance. The swing of her +shoulders, the poise of her head, and the lithe +movement of her waist, made his own body +seem a poor thing.</p> +<p>For two hours they zigzagged down a narrow +cańon heavily timbered with fir and spruce—a +dark, stern avenue, crossed by roaring streams, +and filled with frequent boggy meadows whereon +the water lay mid-leg deep.</p> +<p>“We’ll get out of this very soon,” she called, +cheerily.</p> +<p>By degrees the gorge widened, grew more open, +more genial. Aspen thickets of pale-gold flashed +upon their eyes like sunlight, and grassy bunches +afforded firmer footing, but on the slopes their +feet slipped and slid painfully. Still Berea kept +her stride. “We must get to the middle fork +before dark,” she stopped to explain, “for I don’t +know the trail down there, and there’s a lot of +down timber just above the station. Now that +we’re cut loose from our camp I feel nervous. +As long as I have a tent I am all right; but now +we are in the open I worry. How are you standing +it?” She studied him with keen and anxious +glance, her hand upon his arm. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p> +<p>“Fine as a fiddle,” he replied, assuming a +spirit he did not possess, “but you are marvelous. +I thought cowgirls couldn’t walk?”</p> +<p>“I can do anything when I have to,” she replied. +“We’ve got three hours more of it.” +And she warningly exclaimed: “Look back +there!”</p> +<p>They had reached a point from which the +range could be seen, and behold it was covered +deep with a seamless robe of new snow.</p> +<p>“That’s why dad didn’t get back last night. +He’s probably wallowing along up there this +minute.” And she set off again with resolute +stride. Wayland’s pale face and labored breath +alarmed her. She was filled with love and pity, +but she pressed forward desperately.</p> +<p>As he grew tired, Wayland’s boots, loaded +with mud, became fetters, and every slope greasy +with mire seemed an almost insurmountable +barricade. He fell several times, but made no +outcry. “I will not add to her anxiety,” he said +to himself.</p> +<p>At last they came to the valley floor, over which +a devastating fire had run some years before, +and which was still covered with fallen trees in +desolate confusion. Here the girl made her first +mistake. She kept on toward the river, although +Wayland called attention to a trail leading to +the right up over the low grassy hills. For a mile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +the path was clear, but she soon found herself +confronted by an endless maze of blackened tree-trunks, +and at last the path ended abruptly.</p> +<p>Dismayed and halting, she said: “We’ve got +to go back to that trail which branched off to +the right. I reckon that was the highland trail +which Settle made to keep out of the swamp. I +thought it was a trail from Cameron Peak, but +it wasn’t. Back we go.”</p> +<p>She was suffering keenly now, not on her own +account, but on his, for she could see that he +was very tired, and to climb up that hill again +was like punishing him a second time.</p> +<p>When she picked up the blazed trail it was so +dark that she could scarcely follow it; but she +felt her way onward, turning often to be sure +that he was following. Once she saw him fall, +and cried out: “It’s a shame to make you climb +this hill again. It’s all my fault. I ought to +have known that that lower road led down into +the timber.”</p> +<p>Standing close beside him in the darkness, +knowing that he was weary, wet, and ill, she permitted +herself the expression of her love and pity. +Putting her arm about him, she drew his cheek +against her own, saying: “Poor boy, your hands +are cold as ice.” She took them in her own warm +clasp. “Oh, I wish we had never left the camp! +What does it matter what people say?” Then +she broke down and wailed. “I shall never forgive +myself if you—” Her voice failed her.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +<img src='images/illus-140.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 339px; height: 448px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 339px;'> +SHE FOUND HERSELF CONFRONTED BY AN ENDLESS MAZE OF BLACKENED TREE-TRUNKS<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div> +<p>He bravely reassured her: “I’m not defeated, +I’m just tired. That’s all. I can go on.”</p> +<p>“But you are shaking.”</p> +<p>“That is merely a nervous chill. I’m good +for another hour. It’s better to keep moving, +anyhow.”</p> +<p>She thrust her hand under his coat and laid +it over his heart. “You are tired out,” she said, +and there was anguish in her voice. “Your heart +is pounding terribly. You mustn’t do any more +climbing. And, hark, there’s a wolf!”</p> +<p>He listened. “I hear him; but we are both +armed. There’s no danger from wild animals.”</p> +<p>“Come!” she said, instantly recovering her +natural resolution. “We can’t stand here. The +station can’t be far away. We must go on.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VIII_THE_OTHER_GIRL' id='VIII_THE_OTHER_GIRL'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +<h2>VIII</h2> +<h3>THE OTHER GIRL</h3> +</div> + +<p>The girl’s voice stirred the benumbed youth +into action again, and he followed her mechanically. +His slender stock of physical +strength was almost gone, but his will remained +unbroken. At every rough place she came back +to him to support him, to hearten him, and so +he crept on through the darkness, falling often, +stumbling against the trees, slipping and sliding, +till at last his guide, pitching down a sharp slope, +came directly upon a wire fence.</p> +<p>“Glory be!” she called. “Here is a fence, and +the cabin should be near, although I see no light. +Hello! Tony!”</p> +<p>No voice replied, and, keeping Wayland’s hand, +she felt her way along the fence till it revealed +a gate; then she turned toward the roaring of +the stream, which grew louder as they advanced. +“The cabin is near the falls, that much I know,” +she assured him. Then a moment later she joyfully +cried out: “Here it is!”</p> +<p>Out of the darkness a blacker, sharper shadow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +rose. Again she called, but no one answered. +“The ranger is away,” she exclaimed, in a voice +of indignant alarm. “I do hope he left the door +unlocked.”</p> +<p>Too numb with fatigue, and too dazed by the +darkness to offer any aid, Wayland waited—swaying +unsteadily on his feet—while she tried +the door. It was bolted, and with but a moment’s +hesitation, she said: “It looks like a case +of breaking and entering. I’ll try a window.” +The windows, too, were securely fastened. After +trying them all, she came back to where Wayland +stood. “Tony didn’t intend to have anybody +pushing in,” she decided. “But if the +windows will not raise they will smash.”</p> +<p>A crash of glass followed, and with a feeling +that it was all part of a dream, Wayland waited +while the girl made way through the broken +sash into the dark interior. Her next utterance +was a cry of joy: “Oh, but it’s nice and warm +in here! I can’t open the door. You’ll have +to come in the same way I did.”</p> +<p>He was too weak and too irresolute to respond +immediately, and, reaching out, she took him by +the arms and dragged him across the sill. Her +strength seemed prodigious. A delicious warmth, +a grateful dryness, a sense of shelter enfolded +him like a garment. The place smelled deliciously +of food, of fire, of tobacco. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p> +<p>Leading him toward the middle of the room, +Berrie said: “Stand here till I strike a light.”</p> +<p>As her match flamed up Norcross found himself +in a rough-walled cabin, in which stood a +square cook-stove, a rude table littered with +dishes, and three stools made of slabs. It was +all very rude; but it had all the value of a palace +at the moment.</p> +<p>The girl’s quick eye saw much else. She +located an oil-lamp, some pine-wood, and a corner +cupboard. In a few moments the lamp was +lit, the stove refilled with fuel, and she was +stripping Wayland’s wet coat from his back, +cheerily discoursing as she did so. “Here’s one +of Tony’s old jackets, put that on while I see if +I can’t find some dry stockings for you. Sit +right down here by the stove; put your feet in +the oven. I’ll have a fire in a jiffy. There, +that’s right. Now I’ll start the coffee-pot.” She +soon found the coffee, but it was unground. +“Wonder, where he keeps his coffee-mill.” She +rummaged about for a few minutes, then gave +up the search. “Well, no matter, here’s the +coffee, and here’s a hammer. One of the laws +of the trail is this: If you can’t do a thing one +way, do it another.”</p> +<p>She poured the coffee beans into an empty +tomato-can and began to pound them with the +end of the hammer handle, laughing at Wayland’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +look of wonder and admiration. “Necessity +sure is the mother of invention out here. +How do you feel by now? Isn’t it nice to own +a roof and four walls? I’m going to close up +that window as soon as I get the coffee started. +Are you warming up?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I’m all right now,” he replied; but +he didn’t look it, and her own cheer was rather +forced. He was in the grasp of a nervous chill, +and she was deeply apprehensive of what the +result of his exposure might be. It seemed as +if the coffee would never come to a boil.</p> +<p>“I depend on that to brace you up,” she said.</p> +<p>After hanging a blanket over the broken window, +she set out some cold meat and a half +dozen baking-powder biscuits, which she found +in the cupboard, and as soon as the coffee was +ready she poured it for him; but she would not +let him leave the fire. She brought his supper +to him and sat beside him while he ate and drank.</p> +<p>“You must go right to bed,” she urged, as she +studied his weary eyes. “You ought to sleep for +twenty-four hours.”</p> +<p>The hot, strong coffee revived him physically +and brought back a little of his courage, and he +said: “I’m ashamed to be such a weakling.”</p> +<p>“Now hush,” she commanded. “It’s not +your fault that you are weak. Now, while I am +eating my supper you slip off your wet clothes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +and creep into Tony’s bunk, and I’ll fill one of +these syrup-cans with hot water to put at your +feet.”</p> +<p>It was of no use for him to protest against her +further care. She insisted, and while she ate he +meekly carried out her instructions, and from +the delicious warmth and security of his bed +watched her moving about the stove till the +shadows of the room became one with the dusky +figures of his sleep.</p> +<p>A moment later something falling on the floor +woke him with a start, and, looking up, he found +the sun shining, and Berrie confronting him with +anxious face. “Did I waken you?” she asked. +“I’m awfully sorry. I’m trying to be extra +quiet. I dropped a pan. How do you feel this +<i>morning</i>?”</p> +<p>He pondered this question a moment. “Is it +to-morrow or the next week?”</p> +<p>She laughed happily. “It’s only the next day. +Just keep where you are till the sun gets a little +higher.” She drew near and put a hand on his +brow. “You don’t feel feverish. Oh, I hope +this trip hasn’t set you back.”</p> +<p>He laid his hands together, and then felt of his +pulse. “I don’t seem to have a temperature. +I just feel lazy, limp and lazy; but I’m going to +get up, if you’ll just leave the room for a moment—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></p> +<p>“Don’t try it now. Wait till you have had +your breakfast. You’ll feel stronger then.”</p> +<p>He yielded again to the force of her will, and +fell back into a luxurious drowse hearing the +stove roar and the bacon sizzle in the pan. +There was something primitive and broadly +poetic in the girl’s actions. Through the haze of +the kitchen smoke she enlarged till she became +the typical frontier wife, the goddess of the +skillet and the coffee-pot, the consort of the +pioneer, equally skilled with the rifle and the +rolling-pin. How many millions of times had +this scene been enacted on the long march of +the borderman from the Susquehanna to the +Bear Tooth Range?</p> +<p>Into his epic vision the pitiful absurdity of his +own part in the play broke like a sad discord. +“Of course, it is not my fault that I am a weakling,” +he argued. “Only it was foolish for me +to thrust myself into this stern world. If I +come safely out of this adventure I will go back +to the sheltered places where I belong.”</p> +<p>At this point came again the disturbing realization +that this night of struggle, and the +ministrations of his brave companion had involved +him deeper in a mesh from which honorable +escape was almost impossible. The ranger’s +cabin, so far from being an end of their compromising +intimacy, had added and was still adding to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +the weight of evidence against them both. The +presence of the ranger or the Supervisor himself +could not now save Berea from the gossips.</p> +<p>She brought his breakfast to him, and sat beside +him while he ate, chatting the while of their +good fortune. “It is glorious outside, and I am +sure daddy will get across to-day, and Tony is +certain to turn up before noon. He probably +went down to Coal City to get his mail.”</p> +<p>“I must get up at once,” he said, in a panic +of fear and shame. “The Supervisor must not +find me laid out on my back. Please leave me +alone for a moment.”</p> +<p>She went out, closing the door behind her, and +as he crawled from his bed every muscle in his +body seemed to cry out against being moved. +Nevertheless, he persisted, and at last succeeded +in putting on his clothes, even his shoes—though +he found tying the laces the hardest task of all—and +he was at the wash-basin bathing his face +and hands when Berrie hurriedly re-entered. +“Some tourists are coming,” she announced, in +an excited tone. “A party of five or six people, +a woman among them, is just coming down the +slope. Now, who do you suppose it can be? It +would be just our luck if it should turn out to be +some one from the Mill.”</p> +<p>He divined at once the reason for her dismay. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +The visit of a woman at this moment would not +merely embarrass them both, it would torture +Berrie. “What is to be done?” he asked, roused +to alertness.</p> +<p>“Nothing; all we can do is to stand pat and +act as if we belonged here.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” he replied, moving stiffly toward +the door. “Here’s where I can be of some service. +I am an excellent white liar.”</p> +<p>As our hero crawled out into the brilliant sunshine +some part of his courage came back to +him. Though lame in every muscle, he was not +ill. That was the surprising thing. His head +was clear, and his breath full and deep. “My +lungs are all right,” he said to himself. “I’m +not going to collapse.” And he looked round +him with a new-born admiration of the wooded +hills which rose in somber majesty on either side +the roaring stream. “How different it all looks +this morning,” he said, remembering the deep +blackness of the night.</p> +<p>The beat of hoofs upon the bridge drew his +attention to the cavalcade, which the keen eyes +of the girl had detected as it came over the ridge +to the east. The party consisted of two men +and two women and three pack-horses completely +outfitted for the trail.</p> +<p>One of the women, spurring her horse to the +front, rode serenely up to where Wayland stood, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +and called out: “Good morning. Are you the +ranger?”</p> +<p>“No, I’m only the guard. The ranger has +gone down the trail.”</p> +<p>He perceived at once that the speaker was an +alien like himself, for she wore tan-colored riding-boots, +a divided skirt of expensive cloth, and a +jaunty, wide-rimmed sombrero. She looked, indeed, +precisely like the heroine of the prevalent +Western drama. Her sleeves, rolled to the elbow, +disclosed shapely brown arms, and her neck, +bare to her bosom, was equally sun-smit; but +she was so round-cheeked, so childishly charming, +that the most critical observer could find no fault +with her make-up.</p> +<p>One of the men rode up. “Hello, Norcross. +What are you doing over here?”</p> +<p>The youth smiled blandly. “Good morning, +Mr. Belden. I’m serving my apprenticeship. +I’m in the service now.”</p> +<p>“The mischief you are!” exclaimed the other. +“Where’s Tony?”</p> +<p>“Gone for his mail. He’ll return soon. What +are <i>you</i> doing over here, may I ask?”</p> +<p>“I’m here as guide to Mr. Moore. Mr. Moore, +this is Norcross, one of McFarlane’s men. Mr. +Moore is connected with the tie-camp operations +of the railway.”</p> +<p>Moore was a tall, thin man with a gray beard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +and keen blue eyes. “Where’s McFarlane? We +were to meet him here. Didn’t he come over +with you?”</p> +<p>“We started together, but the horses got away, +and he was obliged to go back after them. He +also is likely to turn up soon.”</p> +<p>“I am frightfully hungry,” interrupted the +girl. “Can’t you hand me out a hunk of bread +and meat? We’ve been riding since daylight.”</p> +<p>Berrie suddenly appeared at the door. “Sure +thing,” she called out. “Slide down and come +in.”</p> +<p>Moore removed his hat and bowed. “Good +morning, Miss McFarlane, I didn’t know you +were here. You know my daughter Siona?”</p> +<p>Berrie nodded coldly. “I’ve met her.”</p> +<p>He indicated the other woman. “And Mrs. +Belden, of course, you know.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Belden, the fourth member of the party, +a middle-aged, rather flabby person, just being +eased down from her horse, turned on Berrie +with a battery of questions. “Good Lord! Berrie +McFarlane, what are you doing over in +this forsaken hole? Where’s your dad? And +where is Tony? If Cliff had known you was over +here he’d have come, too.”</p> +<p>Berrie retained her self-possession. “Come in +and get some coffee, and we’ll straighten things +out.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span></p> +<p>Apparently Mrs. Belden did not know that +Cliff and Berrie had quarreled, for she treated +the girl with maternal familiarity. She was a +good-natured, well-intentioned old sloven, but +a most renowned tattler, and the girl feared her +more than she feared any other woman in the +valley. She had always avoided her, but she +showed nothing of this dislike at the moment.</p> +<p>Wayland drew the younger woman’s attention +by saying: “It’s plain that you, like myself, do +not belong to these parts, Miss Moore.”</p> +<p>“What makes you think so?” she brightly +queried.</p> +<p>“Your costume is too appropriate. Haven’t +you noticed that the women who live out here +carefully avoid convenient and artistic dress? +Now your outfit is precisely what they should +wear and don’t.”</p> +<p>This amused her. “I know, but they all say +they have to wear out their Sunday go-to-meeting +clothes, whereas I can ‘rag out proper.’ +I’m glad you like my ‘rig.’”</p> +<p>“When I look at you,” he said, “I’m back on +old Broadway at the Herald Square Theater. +The play is ‘Little Blossom, or the Cowgirl’s +Revenge.’ The heroine has just come into the +miner’s cabin—”</p> +<p>“Oh, go ’long,” she replied, seizing her cue and +speaking in character, “you’re stringin’ me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p> +<p>“Not on your life! Your outfit is a peacherino,” +he declared. “I am glad you rode by.”</p> +<p>At the moment he was bent on drawing the girl’s +attention from Berrie, but as she went on he +came to like her. She said: “No, I don’t belong +here; but I come out every year during vacation +with my father. I love this country. It’s so +big and wide and wild. Father has built a little +bungalow down at the lower mill, and we enjoy +every day of our stay.”</p> +<p>“You’re a Smith girl,” he abruptly asserted.</p> +<p>“What makes you think so?”</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s something about you Smith girls +that gives you dead away.”</p> +<p>“Gives us away! I like that!”</p> +<p>“My phrase was unfortunate. I like Smith +girls,” he hastened to say; and in five minutes +they were on the friendliest terms—talking of +mutual acquaintances—a fact which both puzzled +and hurt Berea. Their laughter angered +her, and whenever she glanced at them and detected +Siona looking into Wayland’s face with coquettish +simper, she was embittered. She was glad +when Moore came in and interrupted the dialogue.</p> +<p>Norcross did not relax, though he considered +the dangers of cross-examination almost entirely +passed. In this he was mistaken, for no sooner +was the keen edge of Mrs. Belden’s hunger dulled +than her curiosity sharpened. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span></p> +<p>“Where did you say the Supervisor was?” she +repeated.</p> +<p>“The horses got away, and he had to go back +after them,” again responded Berrie, who found +the scrutiny of the other girl deeply disconcerting.</p> +<p>“When do you expect him back?”</p> +<p>“Any minute now,” she replied, and in this +she was not deceiving them, although she did +not intend to volunteer any information which +might embarrass either Wayland or herself.</p> +<p>Norcross tried to create a diversion. “Isn’t +this a charming valley?”</p> +<p>Siona took up the cue. “Isn’t it! It’s romantic +enough to be the back-drop in a Bret +Harte play. I love it!”</p> +<p>Moore turned to Wayland. “I know a Norcross, +a Michigan lumberman, Vice-President of +the Association. Is he, by any chance, a relative?”</p> +<p>“Only a father,” retorted Wayland, with a +smile. “But don’t hold me responsible for anything +he has done. We seldom agree.”</p> +<p>Moore’s manner changed abruptly. “Indeed! +And what is the son of W. W. Norcross doing +out here in the Forest Service?”</p> +<p>The change in her father’s tone was not lost +upon Siona, who ceased her banter and studied +the young man with deeper interest, while Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +Belden, detecting some restraint in Berrie’s +tone, renewed her questioning: “Where did you +camp last night?”</p> +<p>“Right here.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see how the horses got away. There’s +a pasture here, for we rode right through it.”</p> +<p>Berrie was aware that each moment of delay +in explaining the situation looked like evasion, +and deepened the significance of her predicament, +and yet she could not bring herself to the +task of minutely accounting for her time during +the last two days.</p> +<p>Belden came to her relief. “Well, well! +We’ll have to be moving on. We’re going into +camp at the mouth of the West Fork,” he said, +as he rose. “Tell Tony and the Supervisor that +we want to line out that timber at the earliest +possible moment.”</p> +<p>Siona, who was now distinctly coquetting with +Wayland, held out her hand. “I hope you’ll find +time to come up and see us. I know we have +other mutual friends, if we had time to get at +them.”</p> +<p>His answer was humorous. “I am a soldier. +I am on duty. I’m not at all sure that I shall +have a moment’s leave; but I will call if I can +possibly do so.”</p> +<p>They started off at last without having learned +in detail anything of the intimate relationship +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +into which the Supervisor’s daughter and young +Norcross had been thrown, and Mrs. Belden was +still so much in the dark that she called to Berrie: +“I’m going to send word to Cliff that you +are over here. He’ll be crazy to come the minute +he finds it out.”</p> +<p>“Don’t do that!” protested Berrie.</p> +<p>Wayland turned to Berrie. “That would be +pleasant,” he said, smilingly.</p> +<p>But she did not return his smile. On the +contrary, she remained very grave. “I wish that +old tale-bearer had kept away. She’s going to +make trouble for us all. And that girl, isn’t she +a spectacle? I never could bear her.”</p> +<p>“Why, what’s wrong with her? She seems a +very nice, sprightly person.”</p> +<p>“She’s a regular play actor. I don’t like +made-up people. Why does she go around with +her sleeves rolled up that way, and—and her +dress open at the throat?”</p> +<p>“Oh, those are the affectations of the moment. +She wants to look tough and boisterous. That’s +the fad with all the girls, just now. It’s only a +harmless piece of foolishness.”</p> +<p>She could not tell him how deeply she resented +his ready tone of camaraderie with the other +girl; but she was secretly suffering. It hurt her +to think that he could forget his aches and be +so free and easy with a stranger at a moment’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +notice. Under the influence of that girl’s smile +he seemed to have quite forgotten his exhaustion +and his pain. It was wonderful how cheerful he +had been while she was in sight.</p> +<p>In all this Berrie did him an injustice. He had +been keenly conscious, during every moment of +the time, not only of his bodily ills, but of Berrie, +and he had kept a brave face in order that he +might prevent further questioning on the part +of a malicious girl. It was his only way of being +heroic. Now that the crisis was passed he was +quite as much of a wreck as ever.</p> +<p>A new anxiety beset her. “I hope they won’t +happen to meet father on the trail.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I should go with them and warn +him.”</p> +<p>“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she wearily answered. +“Old Mrs. Belden will never rest till she finds +out just where we’ve been, and just what we’ve +done. She’s that kind. She knows everything +that goes on.”</p> +<p>He understood her fear, and yet he was unable +to comfort her in the only way she could be +comforted. That brief encounter with Siona +Moore—a girl of his own world—had made all +thought of marriage with Berea suddenly absurd. +Without losing in any degree the sense of gratitude +he felt for her protecting care, and with full +acknowledgment of her heroic support of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +faltering feet, he revolted from putting into +words a proposal of marriage. “I love her,” he +confessed to himself, “and she is a dear, brave +girl; but I do not love her as a man should love +the woman he is to marry.”</p> +<p>A gray shadow had plainly fallen between +them. Berea sensed the change in his attitude, +and traced it to the influence of the coquette +whose smiling eyes and bared arms had openly +challenged admiration. It saddened her to +think that one so fine as he had seemed could +yield even momentary tribute to an open and +silly coquette.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IX_FURTHER_PERPLEXITIES' id='IX_FURTHER_PERPLEXITIES'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +<h2>IX</h2> +<h3>FURTHER PERPLEXITIES</h3> +</div> + +<p>Wayland, for his part, was not deceived +by Siona Moore. He knew her kind, and +understood her method of attack. He liked her +pert ways, for they brought back his days at +college, when dozens of just such misses lent +grace and humor and romance to the tennis court +and to the football field. She carried with her +the aroma of care-free, athletic girlhood. Flirtation +was in her as charming and almost as meaningless +as the preening of birds on the bank of a +pool in the meadow.</p> +<p>Speaking aloud, he said: “Miss Moore travels +the trail with all known accessories, and I’ve no +doubt she thinks she is a grand campaigner; +but I am wondering how she would stand such a +trip as that you took last night. I don’t believe +she could have done as well as I. She’s the imitation—you’re +the real thing.”</p> +<p>The praise involved in this speech brought +back a little of Berrie’s humor. “I reckon those +brown boots of hers would have melted,” she +said, with quaint smile. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p> +<p>He became very grave. “If it had not been +for you, dear girl, I would be lying up there in +the forest this minute. Nothing but your indomitable +spirit kept me moving. I shall be +deeply hurt if any harm comes to you on account +of me.”</p> +<p>“If it hadn’t been for me you wouldn’t have +started on that trip last night. It was perfectly +useless. It would have been better for us both +if we had stayed in camp, for we wouldn’t have +met these people.”</p> +<p>“That’s true,” he replied; “but we didn’t +know that at the time. We acted for the best, +and we must not blame ourselves, no matter +what comes of it.”</p> +<p>They fell silent at this point, for each was again +conscious of their new relationship. She, vaguely +suffering, waited for him to resume the lover’s +tone, while he, oppressed by the sense of his own +shortcomings and weakness, was planning an +escape. “It’s all nonsense, my remaining in the +forest. I’m not fitted for it. It’s too severe. +I’ll tell McFarlane so and get out.”</p> +<p>Perceiving his returning weakness and depression, +Berea insisted on his lying down again +while she set to work preparing dinner. “There +is no telling when father will get here,” she said. +“And Tony will be hungry when he comes. +Lie down and rest.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p> +<p>He obeyed her silently, and, going to the bunk, +at once fell asleep. How long he slept he could +not tell, but he was awakened by the voice of the +ranger, who was standing in the doorway and +regarding Berrie with a round-eyed stare.</p> +<p>He was a tall, awkward fellow of about thirty-five, +plainly of the frontier type; but a man of +intelligence. At the end of a brief explanation +Berrie said, with an air of authority: “Now you’d +better ride up the trail and bring our camp +outfit down. We can’t go back that way, anyhow.”</p> +<p>The ranger glanced toward Wayland. “All +right, Miss Berrie, but perhaps your tenderfoot +needs a doctor.”</p> +<p>Wayland rose painfully but resolutely. “Oh +no, I am not sick. I’m a little lame, that’s all. +I’ll go along with you.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Berrie, decisively. “You’re not +well enough for that. Get up your horses, Tony, +and by that time I’ll have some dinner ready.”</p> +<p>“All right, Miss Berrie,” replied the man, and +turned away.</p> +<p>Hardly had he crossed the bridge on his way +to the pasture, when Berrie cried out: “There +comes daddy.”</p> +<p>Wayland joined her at the door, and stood +beside her watching the Supervisor, as he came +zigzagging down the steep hill to the east, with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +all his horses trailing behind him roped together +head-to-tail.</p> +<p>“He’s had to come round by Lost Lake,” she +exclaimed. “He’ll be tired out, and absolutely +starved. Wahoo!” she shouted in greeting, and +the Supervisor waved his hand.</p> +<p>There was something superb in the calm seat +of the veteran as he slid down the slope. He +kept his place in the saddle with the air of the +rider to whom hunger, fatigue, windfalls, and +snowslides were all a part of the day’s work; and +when he reined in before the door and dropped +from his horse, he put his arm about his daughter’s +neck with quiet word: “I thought I’d find +you here. How is everything?”</p> +<p>“All right, daddy; but what about you? +Where have you been?”</p> +<p>“Clean back to Mill Park. The blamed +cayuses kept just ahead of me all the way.”</p> +<p>“Poor old dad! And on top of that came the +snow.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and a whole hatful. I couldn’t get back +over the high pass. Had to go round by Lost +Lake, and to cap all, Old Baldy took a notion +not to lead. Oh, I’ve had a peach of a time; +but here I am. Have you seen Moore and his +party?”</p> +<p>“Yes, they’re in camp up the trail. He and +Alec Belden and two women. Are you hungry?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></p> +<p>He turned a comical glance upon her. “Am +I hungry? Sister, I am a wolf. Norcross, take +my horses down to the pasture.”</p> +<p>She hastened to interpose. “Let me do that, +daddy, Mr. Norcross is badly used up. You +see, we started down here late yesterday afternoon. +It was raining and horribly muddy, and +I took the wrong trail. The darkness caught us +and we didn’t reach the station till nearly midnight.”</p> +<p>Wayland acknowledged his weakness. “I +guess I made a mistake, Supervisor; I’m not +fitted for this strenuous life.”</p> +<p>McFarlane was quick to understand. “I +didn’t intend to pitchfork you into the forest +life quite so suddenly,” he said. “Don’t give +up yet awhile. You’ll harden to it.”</p> +<p>“Here comes Tony,” said Berrie. “He’ll look +after the ponies.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless Wayland went out, believing that +Berrie wished to be alone with her father for a +short time.</p> +<p>As he took his seat McFarlane said: “You +stayed in camp till yesterday afternoon, did +you?”</p> +<p>“Yes, we were expecting you every moment.”</p> +<p>He saw nothing in this to remark upon. “Did +it snow at the lake?”</p> +<p>“Yes, a little; it mostly rained.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></p> +<p>“It stormed up on the divide like a January +blizzard. When did Moore and his party arrive?”</p> +<p>“About ten o’clock this morning.”</p> +<p>“I’ll ride right up and see them. What about +the outfit? That’s at the lake, I reckon?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I was just sending Tony after it. But, +father, if you go up to Moore’s camp, don’t say +too much about what has happened. Don’t tell +them just when you took the back-trail, and just +how long Wayland and I were in camp.”</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>She reddened with confusion. “Because—You +know what an old gossip Mrs. Belden is. +I don’t want her to know. She’s an awful talker, +and our being together up there all that time +will give her a chance.”</p> +<p>A light broke in on the Supervisor’s brain. In +the midst of his preoccupation as a forester he +suddenly became the father. His eyes narrowed +and his face darkened. “That’s so. The old +rip could make a whole lot of capital out of your +being left in camp that way. At the same time +I don’t believe in dodging. The worst thing we +could do would be to try to blind the trail. Was +Tony here last night when you came?”</p> +<p>“No, he was down the valley after his mail.”</p> +<p>His face darkened again. “That’s another +piece of bad luck, too. How much does the old +woman know at present?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></p> +<p>“Nothing at all.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t she cross-examine you?”</p> +<p>“Sure she did; but Wayland side-tracked her. +Of course it only delays things. She’ll know all +about it sooner or later. She’s great at putting +two and two together. Two and two with her +always make five.”</p> +<p>McFarlane mused. “Cliff will be plumb crazy +if she gets his ear first.”</p> +<p>“I don’t care anything about Cliff, daddy. +I don’t care what he thinks or does, if he will only +let Wayland alone.”</p> +<p>“See here, daughter, you do seem to be terribly +interested in this tourist.”</p> +<p>“He’s the finest man I ever knew, father.”</p> +<p>He looked at her with tender, trusting glance. +“He isn’t your kind, daughter. He’s a nice +clean boy, but he’s different. He don’t belong +in our world. He’s only just stopping here. +Don’t forget that.”</p> +<p>“I’m not forgetting that, daddy. I know he’s +different, that’s why I like him.” After a pause +she added: “Nobody could have been nicer all +through these days than he has been. He was +like a brother.”</p> +<p>McFarlane fixed a keen glance upon her. +“Has he said anything to you? Did you come +to an understanding?”</p> +<p>Her eyes fell. “Not the way you mean, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +daddy; but I think he—likes me. But do you +know who he is? He’s the son of W. W. Norcross, +that big Michigan lumberman.”</p> +<p>McFarlane started. “How do you know +that?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Moore asked him if he was any relation +to W.W. Norcross, and he said, ‘Yes, a son.’ +You should have seen how that Moore girl +changed her tune the moment he admitted that. +She’d been very free with him up to that time; +but when she found out he was a rich man’s son +she became as quiet and innocent as a kitten. I +hate her; she’s a deceitful snip.”</p> +<p>“Well, now, daughter, that being the case, it’s +all the more certain that he don’t belong to our +world, and you mustn’t fix your mind on keeping +him here.”</p> +<p>“A girl can’t help fixing her mind, daddy.”</p> +<p>“Or changing it.” He smiled a little. “You +used to like Cliff. You liked him well enough to +promise to marry him.”</p> +<p>“I know I did; but I despise him now.”</p> +<p>“Poor Cliff! He isn’t so much to blame after +all. Any man is likely to flare out when he finds +another fellow cutting in ahead of him. Why, +here you are wanting to kill Siona Moore just +for making up to your young tourist.”</p> +<p>“But that’s different.”</p> +<p>He laughed. “Of course it is. But the thing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +we’ve got to guard against is old lady Belden’s +tongue. She and that Belden gang have it in +for me, and all that has kept them from open +war has been Cliff’s relationship to you. They’ll +take a keen delight in making the worst of all +this camping business.” McFarlane was now +very grave. “I wish your mother was here this +minute. I guess we had better cut out this +timber cruise and go right back.”</p> +<p>“No, you mustn’t do that; that would only +make more talk. Go on with your plans. I’ll +stay here with you. It won’t take you but a +couple of days to do the work, and Wayland needs +the rest.”</p> +<p>“But suppose Cliff hears of this business between +you and Norcross and comes galloping +over the ridge?”</p> +<p>“Well, let him, he has no claim on me.”</p> +<p>He rose uneasily. “It’s all mighty risky business, +and it’s my fault. I should never have permitted +you to start on this trip.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you worry about me, daddy, I’ll pull +through somehow. Anybody that knows me +will understand how little there is in—in old +lady Belden’s gab. I’ve had a beautiful trip, +and I won’t let her nor anybody else spoil it for +me.”</p> +<p>McFarlane was not merely troubled. He was +distracted. He was afraid to meet the Beldens. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +He dreaded their questions, their innuendoes. +He had perfect faith in his daughter’s purity +and honesty, and he liked and trusted Norcross, +and yet he knew that should Belden find it to his +advantage to slander these young people, and +to read into their action the lawlessness of his +own youth, Berea’s reputation, high as it was, +would suffer, and her mother’s heart be rent with +anxiety. In his growing pain and perplexity he +decided to speak frankly to young Norcross himself. +“He’s a gentleman, and knows the way of +the world. Perhaps he’ll have some suggestion +to offer.” In his heart he hoped to learn that +Wayland loved his daughter and wished to marry +her.</p> +<p>Wayland was down on the bridge leaning over +the rail, listening to the song of the water.</p> +<p>McFarlane approached gravely, but when he +spoke it was in his usual soft monotone. “Mr. +Norcross,” he began, with candid inflection, “I +am very sorry to say it; but I wish you and my +daughter had never started on this trip.”</p> +<p>“I know what you mean, Supervisor, and I +feel as you do about it. Of course, none of us +foresaw any such complication as this, but now +that we are snarled up in it we’ll have to make +the best of it. No one of us is to blame. It was +all accidental.”</p> +<p>The youth’s frank words and his sympathetic +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +voice disarmed McFarlane completely. Even +the slight resentment he felt melted away. “It’s +no use saying <i>if</i>,” he remarked, at length. +“What we’ve got to meet is Seth Belden’s report—Berrie +has cut loose from Cliff, and he’s +red-headed already. When he drops onto this +story, when he learns that I had to chase back +after the horses, and that you and Berrie were +alone together for three days, he’ll have a fine club +to swing, and he’ll swing it; and Alec will help +him. They’re all waiting a chance to get me, and +they’re mean enough to get me through my girl.”</p> +<p>“What can I do?” asked Wayland.</p> +<p>McFarlane pondered. “I’ll try to head off +Marm Belden, and I’ll have a talk with Moore. +He’s a pretty reasonable chap.”</p> +<p>“But you forget there’s another tale-bearer. +Moore’s daughter is with them.”</p> +<p>“That’s so. I’d forgotten her. Good Lord! +we are in for it. There’s no use trying to cover +anything up.”</p> +<p>Here was the place for Norcross to speak up +and say: “Never mind, I’m going to ask Berrie +to be my wife.” But he couldn’t do it. Something +rose in his throat which prevented speech. +A strange repugnance, a kind of sullen resentment +at being forced into a declaration, kept him +silent, and McFarlane, disappointed, wondering +and hurt, kept silence also. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></p> +<p>Norcross was the first to speak. “Of course +those who know your daughter will not listen for +an instant to the story of an unclean old thing +like Mrs. Belden.”</p> +<p>“I’m not so sure about that,” replied the father, +gloomily. “People always listen to such stories, +and a girl always gets the worst of a situation +like this. Berrie’s been brought up to take care +of herself, and she’s kept clear of criticism so far; +but with Cliff on edge and this old rip snooping +around—” His mind suddenly changed. +“Your being the son of a rich man won’t +help any. Why didn’t you tell me who you +were?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t think it necessary. What difference +does it make? I have nothing to do with my +father’s business. His notions of forest speculation +are not mine.”</p> +<p>“It would have made a difference with me, and +it might have made a difference with Berrie. +She mightn’t have been so free with you at the +start, if she’d known who you were. You looked +sick and kind of lonesome, and that worked on +her sympathy.”</p> +<p>“I <i>was</i> sick and I was lonesome, and she has +been very sweet and lovely to me, and it breaks +my heart to think that her kindness and your +friendship should bring all this trouble and suspicion +upon her. Let’s go up to the Moore camp +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +and have it out with them. I’ll make any statement +you think best.”</p> +<p>“I reckon the less said about it the better,” +responded the older man. “I’m going up to +the camp, but not to talk about my daughter.”</p> +<p>“How can you help it? They’ll force the +topic.”</p> +<p>“If they do, I’ll force them to let it alone,” +retorted McFarlane; but he went away disappointed +and sorrowful. The young man’s evident +avoidance of the subject of marriage hurt +him. He did not perceive, as Norcross did, +that to make an announcement of his daughter’s +engagement at this moment would be taken as a +confession of shameful need. It is probable that +Berrie herself would not have seen this further +complication.</p> +<p>Each hour added to Wayland’s sense of helplessness +and bitterness. “I am in a trap. I can +neither help Berrie nor help myself. Nothing +remains for me but flight, and flight will also +be a confession of guilt.”</p> +<p>Once again, and in far more definite terms, he +perceived the injustice of the world toward +women. Here with Berrie, as in ages upon ages +of other times, the maiden must bear the burden +of reproach. “In me it will be considered a +joke, a romantic episode, in her a degrading misdemeanor. +And yet what can I do?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span></p> +<p>When he re-entered the cabin the Supervisor +had returned from the camp, and something in +his manner, as well as in Berrie’s, revealed the +fact that the situation had not improved.</p> +<p>“They forced me into a corner,” McFarlane +said to Wayland, peevishly. “I lied out of one +night; but they know that you were here last +night. Of course, they were respectful enough +so long as I had an eye on them, but their +tongues are wagging now.”</p> +<p>The rest of the evening was spent in talk on +the forest, and in going over the ranger’s books, +for the Supervisor continued to plan for Wayland’s +stay at this station, and the young fellow +thought it best not to refuse at the moment.</p> +<p>As bedtime drew near Settle took a blanket +and went to the corral, and Berrie insisted that +her father and Wayland occupy the bunk.</p> +<p>Norcross protested; but the Supervisor said: +“Let her alone. She’s better able to sleep on +the floor than either of us.”</p> +<p>This was perfectly true; but, in spite of his +bruised and aching body, the youth would gladly +have taken her place beside the stove. It +seemed pitifully unjust that she should have +this physical hardship in addition to her uneasiness +of mind.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='X_THE_CAMP_ON_THE_PASS' id='X_THE_CAMP_ON_THE_PASS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +<h2>X</h2> +<h3>THE CAMP ON THE PASS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Berea suffered a restless night, the most painful +and broken she had known in all her life. +She acknowledged that Siona Moore was prettier, +and that she stood more nearly on Wayland’s +plane than herself; but the realization of this +fact did not bring surrender—she was not of +that temper. All her life she had been called +upon to combat the elements, to hold her own +amidst rude men and inconsiderate women, and +she had no intention of yielding her place to a +pert coquette, no matter what the gossips might +say. She had seen this girl many times, but had +refused to visit her house. She had held her in +contempt, now she quite cordially hated her.</p> +<p>“She shall not have her way with Wayland,” +she decided. “I know what she wants—she +wants him at her side to-morrow; but I will not +have it so. She is trying to get him away from +me.”</p> +<p>The more she dwelt on this the hotter her +jealous fever burned. The floor on which she +lay was full of knots. She could not lose herself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +in sleep, tired as she was. The planks no longer +turned their soft spots to her flesh, and she rolled +from side to side in torment. She would have +arisen and dressed only she did not care to disturb +the men. The night seemed interminable.</p> +<p>Her plan of action was simple. “I shall go +home the morrow and take Wayland with me. +I will not have him going with that girl—that’s +settled!” The very thought of his taking Siona’s +hand in greeting angered her beyond reason.</p> +<p>She had put Cliff Belden completely out of her +mind, and this was characteristic of her. She had +no divided interests, no subtleties, no subterfuges. +Forthright, hot-blooded, frank and simple, she +had centered all her care, all her desires, on this +pale youth whose appeal was at once mystic and +maternal; but her pity was changing to something +deeper, for she was convinced that he was +gaining in strength, that he was in no danger of +relapse. The hard trip of the day before had +seemingly done him no permanent injury; on +the contrary, a few hours’ rest had almost restored +him to his normal self. “To-morrow he +will be able to ride again.” And this thought +reconciled her to her hard bed. She did not look +beyond the long, delicious day which they must +spend in returning to the Springs.</p> +<p>She fell asleep at last, and was awakened only +by her father tinkering about the stove. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p> +<p>She rose alertly, signing to the Supervisor not +to disturb her patient.</p> +<p>However, Norcross also heard the rattle of +the poker, opened his eyes and regarded Berrie +with sleepy smile. “Good morning, if it <i>is</i> +morning,” he said, slowly.</p> +<p>She laughed back at him. “It’s almost sunup.”</p> +<p>“You don’t tell me! How could I have overslept +like this? Makes me think of the Irishman +who, upon being awakened to an early breakfast +like this, ate it, then said to his employer, an extra +thrifty farmer, ‘Two suppers in wan night—and +hurrah for bed again.’”</p> +<p>This amused her greatly. “It’s too bad. I +hope you got some sleep?”</p> +<p>“All there was time for.” His voice changed. +“I feel like a hound-pup, to be snoring on a downy +couch like this while you were roughing it on the +floor. How did I come to do it? It’s shameful!”</p> +<p>“Don’t worry about me. How are you feeling +this morning?”</p> +<p>He stretched and yawned. “Fine! That is, +I’m sore here and there, but I’m feeling wonderfully +well. Do you know, I begin to hope that I +can finally dominate the wilderness. Wouldn’t +it be wonderful if I got so I could ride and walk +as you do, for instance? The fact that I’m not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +dead this morning is encouraging.” He drew +on his shoes as he talked, while she went about +her toilet, which was quite as simple as his own. +She had spent two nights in her day dress with +almost no bathing facilities; but that didn’t +trouble her. It was a part of the game. She +washed her face and hands in Settle’s tin basin, +but drew the line at his rubber comb.</p> +<p>There was a distinct charm in seeing her thus +adapting herself to the cabin, a charm quite as +powerful as that which emanated from Siona +Moore’s dainty and theatrical personality. What +it was he could not define, but the forester’s +daughter had something primeval about her, +something close to the soil, something which +aureoles the old Saxon words—<i>wife</i> and <i>home</i> and +<i>fireplace</i>. Seeing her through the savory steam +of the bacon she was frying, he forgot her marvelous +skill as horsewoman and pathfinder, and +thought of her only as the housewife. She belonged +here, in this cabin. She was fitted to this +landscape, whereas the other woman was alien +and dissonant.</p> +<p>He moved his arms about and shook his legs +with comical effect of trying to see if they were +still properly hinged. “It’s miraculous! I’m +not lame at all. No one can accuse me of being +a ‘lunger’ now. Last night’s sleep has made a new +man of me. I’ve met the forest and it is mine.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span></p> +<p>She beamed upon him with happy pride. “I’m +mighty glad to hear you say that. I was terribly +afraid that long, hard walk in the rain had been +too much for you. I reckon you’re all right for +the work now.”</p> +<p>He recalled, as she spoke, her anguish of pity +while they stood in the darkness of the trail, and +it seemed that he could go no farther, and he said, +soberly: “It must have seemed to you one while +as if I were all in. I felt that way myself. I +was numb from head to heel. I couldn’t have +gone another mile.”</p> +<p>Her face clouded with retrospective pain. “You +mustn’t try any more such stunts—not for a few +weeks, anyway. But get ready for breakfast.”</p> +<p>He went out into the morning exultantly, and +ran down to the river to bathe his face and hands, +allured by its splendid voice. The world seemed +very bright and beautiful and health-giving once +more.</p> +<p>As soon as she was alone with her father, Berrie +said: “I’m going home to-day, dad.”</p> +<p>“Going home! What for?”</p> +<p>“I’ve had enough of it.”</p> +<p>He glanced at her bed on the floor. “I can’t +say I blame you any. This has been a rough trip; +but we’ll go up and bring down the outfit, and +then we men can sleep in the tent and let you +have the bunk—you’ll be comfortable to-night.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” she +replied; “but I want to get back. I don’t want +to meet those women. Another thing, you’d +better use Mr. Norcross at the Springs instead +of leaving him here with Tony.”</p> +<p>“Why so?”</p> +<p>“Well, he isn’t quite well enough to run the +risk. It’s a long way from here to a doctor.”</p> +<p>“He ’pears to be on deck this morning. Besides, +I haven’t anything in the office to offer him.”</p> +<p>“Then send him up to Meeker. Landon needs +help, and he’s a better forester than Tony, anyway.”</p> +<p>“How about Cliff? He may make trouble.”</p> +<p>Her face darkened. “Cliff will reach him if he +wants to—no matter where he is. And then, +too, Landon likes Mr. Norcross and will see that +he is not abused.”</p> +<p>McFarlane ruminated over her suggestion, well +knowing that she was planning this change in +order that she might have Norcross a little +nearer, a little more accessible.</p> +<p>“I don’t know but you’re right. Landon is +almost as good a hustler as Tony, and a much +better forester. I thought of sending Norcross +up there at first, but he told me that Frank and +his gang had it in for him. Of course, he’s only +nominally in the service; but I want him to begin +right.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></p> +<p>Berrie went further. “I want him to ride +back with me to-day.”</p> +<p>He looked at her with grave inquiry. “Do you +think that a wise thing to do? Won’t that make +more talk?”</p> +<p>“We’ll start early and ride straight through.”</p> +<p>“You’ll have to go by Lost Lake, and that +means a long, hard hike. Can he stand it?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes. He rides well. It’s the walking at +a high altitude that does him up. Furthermore, +Cliff may turn up here, and I don’t want another +mix-up.”</p> +<p>McFarlane was troubled. “I ought to go +back with you; but Moore is over here to line +out a cutting, and I must stay on for a couple +of days. Suppose I send Tony along?”</p> +<p>“No, Tony would be a nuisance and would do +no good. Another day on the trail won’t add to +Mrs. Belden’s story. If she wants to be mean +she’s got all the material for it already.”</p> +<p>In the end she had her way. McFarlane, perceiving +that she had set her heart on this ride, +and having perfect faith in her skill and judgment +on the trail, finally said: “Well, if you do +so, the quicker you start the better. With the +best of luck you can’t pull in before eight o’clock, +and you’ll have to ride hard to do that.”</p> +<p>“If I find we can’t make it I’ll pull into a +ranch. But I’m sure we can.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>When Wayland came in the Supervisor inquired: +“Do you feel able to ride back over the +hill to-day?”</p> +<p>“Entirely so. It isn’t the riding that uses +me up; it is the walking; and, besides, as candidate +for promotion I must obey orders—especially +orders to march.”</p> +<p>They breakfasted hurriedly, and while McFarlane +and Tony were bringing in the horses Wayland +and Berrie set the cabin to rights. Working +thus side by side, she recovered her dominion +over him, and at the same time regained her own +cheerful self-confidence.</p> +<p>“You’re a wonder!” he exclaimed, as he +watched her deft adjustment of the dishes and +furniture. “You’re ambidextrous.”</p> +<p>“I have to be to hold my job,” she laughingly +replied. “A feller must play all the parts when +he’s up here.”</p> +<p>It was still early morning as they mounted and +set off up the trail; but Moore’s camp was astir, +and as McFarlane turned in—much against +Berrie’s will—the lumberman and his daughter +both came out to meet them. “Come in and +have some breakfast,” said Siona, with cordial +inclusiveness, while her eyes met Wayland’s +glance with mocking glee.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said McFarlane, “we can’t +stop. I’m going to set my daughter over the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +divide. She has had enough camping, and Norcross +is pretty well battered up, so I’m going to +help them across. I’ll be back to-night, and we’ll +take our turn up the valley to-morrow. Nash +will be here then.”</p> +<p>Berrie did not mind her father’s explanation; +on the contrary, she took a distinct pleasure in +letting the other girl know of the long and intimate +day she was about to spend with her young +lover.</p> +<p>Siona, too adroit to display her disappointment, +expressed polite regret. “I hope you +won’t get storm-bound,” she said, showing her +white teeth in a meaning smile.</p> +<p>“If there is any sign of a storm we won’t +cross,” declared McFarlane. “We’re going +round by the lower pass, anyhow. If I’m not +here by dark, you may know I’ve stayed to set +’em down at the Mill.”</p> +<p>There was charm in Siona’s alert poise, and in +the neatness of her camp dress. Her dainty tent, +with its stools and rugs, made the wilderness seem +but a park. She reminded Norcross of the troops +of tourists of the Tyrol, and her tent was of a +kind to harmonize with the tea-houses on the +path to the summit of the Matterhorn. Then, +too, something triumphantly feminine shone in +her bright eyes and glowed in her softly rounded +cheeks. Her hand was little and pointed, not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +fitted like Berrie’s for tightening a cinch or +wielding an ax, and as he said “Good-by,” +he added: “I hope I shall see you again soon,” +and at the moment he meant it.</p> +<p>“We’ll return to the Springs in a few days,” +she replied. “Come and see us. Our bungalow +is on the other side of the river—and you, too,” +she addressed Berrie; but her tone was so conventionally +polite that the ranch-girl, burning +with jealous heat, made no reply.</p> +<p>McFarlane led the way to the lake rapidly +and in silence. The splendors of the foliage, subdued +by the rains, the grandeur of the peaks, the +song of the glorious stream—all were lost on +Berrie, for she now felt herself to be nothing but +a big, clumsy, coarse-handed tomboy. Her +worn gloves, her faded skirt, and her man’s shoes +had been made hateful to her by that smug, +graceful, play-acting tourist with the cool, keen +eyes and smirking lips. “She pretends to be a +kitten; but she isn’t; she’s a sly grown-up cat,” +she bitterly accused, but she could not deny the +charm of her personality.</p> +<p>Wayland was forced to acknowledge that Berrie +in this dark mood was not the delightful companion +she had hitherto been. Something sweet +and confiding had gone out of their relationship, +and he was too keen-witted not to know what it +was. He estimated precisely the value of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +malicious parting words of Siona Moore. “She’s +a natural tease, the kind of woman who loves to +torment other and less fortunate women. She +cares nothing for me, of course, it’s just her way +of paying off old scores. It would seem that +Berrie has not encouraged her advances in times +past.”</p> +<p>That Berrie was suffering, and that her jealousy +touchingly proved the depth of her love for him, +brought no elation, only perplexity. He was not +seeking such devotion. As a companion on the +trail she had been a joy—as a jealous sweetheart +she was less admirable. He realized perfectly that +this return journey was of her arrangement, not +McFarlane’s, and while he was not resentful of +her care, he was in doubt of the outcome. It +hurried him into a further intimacy which might +prove embarrassing.</p> +<p>At the camp by the lake the Supervisor became +sharply commanding. “Now let’s throw +these packs on lively. It will be slippery on the +high trail, and you’ll just naturally have to hit +leather hard and keep jouncing if you reach the +wagon-road before dark. But you’ll make it.”</p> +<p>“Make it!” said Berrie. “Of course we’ll +make it. Don’t you worry about that for a +minute. Once I get out of the green timber the +dark won’t worry me. We’ll push right through.”</p> +<p>In packing the camp stuff on the saddles, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +Berrie, almost as swift and powerful as her +father, acted with perfect understanding of every +task, and Wayland’s admiration of her skill increased +mightily.</p> +<p>She insisted on her father’s turning back. “We +don’t need you,” she said. “I can find the pass.”</p> +<p>McFarlane’s faith in his daughter had been +tested many times, and yet he was a little loath +to have her start off on a trail new to her. He +argued against it briefly, but she laughed at his +fears. “I can go anywhere you can,” she said. +“Stand clear!” With final admonition he stood +clear.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to keep off the boggy meadows,” +he warned; “these rains will have softened all +those muck-holes on the other side; they’ll be +bottomless pits; watch out for ’em. Good-by! +If you meet Nash hurry him along. Moore is +anxious to run those lines. Keep in touch with +Landon, and if anybody turns up from the district +office say I’ll be back on Friday. Good +luck.”</p> +<p>“Same to you. So long.”</p> +<p>Berea led the way, and Norcross fell in behind +the pack-horses, feeling as unimportant as a small +boy at the heels of a circus parade. His girl +captain was so competent, so self-reliant, and so +sure that nothing he could say or do assisted in +the slightest degree. Her leadership was a curiously +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +close reproduction of her father’s unhurried +and graceful action. Her seat in the saddle was +as easy as Landon’s, and her eyes were alert to +every rock and stream in the road. She was at +home here, where the other girl would have been +a bewildered child, and his words of praise lifted +the shadow from her face.</p> +<p>The sky was cloudy, and a delicious feeling of +autumn was in the air—autumn that might turn +to winter with a passing cloud, and the forest +was dankly gloomy and grimly silent, save from +the roaring stream which ran at times foam-white +with speed. The high peaks, gray and +streaked with new-fallen snow, shone grandly, +bleakly through the firs. The radiant beauty of +the road from the Springs, the golden glow of +four days before was utterly gone, and yet there +was exultation in this ride. A distinct pleasure, +a delight of another sort, lay in thus daring the +majesty of an unknown wind-swept pass.</p> +<p>Wayland called out: “The air feels like +Thanksgiving morning, doesn’t it?”</p> +<p>“It <i>is</i> Thanksgiving for me, and I’m going to +get a grouse for dinner,” she replied; and in less +than an hour the snap of her rifle made good her +promise.</p> +<p>After leaving the upper lake she turned to the +right and followed the course of a swift and +splendid stream, which came churning through +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +a cheerless, mossy swamp of spruce-trees. Inexperienced +as he was, Wayland knew that this +was not a well-marked trail; but his confidence +in his guide was too great to permit of any worry +over the pass, and he amused himself by watching +the water-robins as they flitted from stone to +stone in the torrent, and in calculating just where +he would drop a line for trout if he had time to +do so, and in recovered serenity enjoyed his ride. +Gradually he put aside his perplexities concerning +the future, permitting his mind to prefigure +nothing but his duties with Landon at Meeker’s +Mill.</p> +<p>He was rather glad of the decision to send him +there, for it promised absorbing sport. “I shall +see how Landon and Belden work out their problem,” +he said. He had no fear of Frank Meeker +now. “As a forest guard with official duties to +perform I can meet that young savage on other +and more nearly equal terms,” he assured himself.</p> +<p>The trail grew slippery and in places ran full +of water. “But there’s a bottom, somewhere,” +Berrie confidently declared, and pushed ahead +with resolute mien. It was noon when they rose +above timber and entered upon the wide, smooth +slopes of the pass. Snow filled the grass here, +and the wind, keen, cutting, unhindered, came +out of the desolate west with savage fury; but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +the sun occasionally shone through the clouds +with vivid splendor. “It is December now,” +shouted Wayland, as he put on his slicker and +cowered low to his saddle. “It will be January +soon.”</p> +<p>“We will make it Christmas dinner,” she +laughed, and her glowing good humor warmed +his heart. She was entirely her cheerful self +again.</p> +<p>As they rose, the view became magnificent, +wintry, sparkling. The great clouds, drifting +like ancient warships heavy with armament, +sent down chill showers of hail over the frosted +gold of the grassy slopes; but when the shadows +passed the sunlight descended in silent cataracts +deliriously spring-like. The conies squeaked +from the rocky ridges, and a brace of eagles +circling about a lone crag, as if exulting in their +sovereign mastery of the air, screamed in shrill +ecstatic duo. The sheer cliffs, on their shadowed +sides, were violently purple. Everywhere the +landscape exhibited crashing contrasts of primary +pigments which bit into consciousness like +the flare of a martial band.</p> +<p>The youth would have lingered in spite of the +cold; but the girl kept steadily on, knowing well +that the hardest part of their journey was still +before them, and he, though longing to ride by +her side, and to enjoy the views with her, was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +forced to remain in the rear in order to hurry the +reluctant pack-animals forward. They had now +reached a point twelve thousand feet above the +sea, and range beyond range, to the west and +south, rose into sight like stupendous waves of +a purple-green sea. To the east the park lay +level as a floor and carpeted in tawny velvet.</p> +<p>It was nearly two o’clock when they began to +drop down behind the rocky ridges of the eastern +slope, and soon, in the bottom of a warm and +sheltered hollow just at timber-line, Berrie drew +her horse to a stand and slipped from the saddle. +“We’ll rest here an hour,” she said, “and cook +our grouse; or are you too hungry to wait?”</p> +<p>“I can wait,” he answered, dramatically. +“But it seems as if I had never eaten.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, we’ll save the grouse till to-morrow; +but I’ll make some coffee. You bring +some water while I start a fire.”</p> +<p>And so, while the tired horses cropped the russet +grass, she boiled some coffee and laid out +some bread and meat, while he sat by watching +her and absorbing the beauty of the scene, the +charm of the hour. “It is exactly like a warm +afternoon in April,” he said, “and here are some +of the spring flowers.”</p> +<p>“There now, sit by and eat,” she said, with +humor; and in perfectly restored tranquillity +they ate and drank, with no thought of critics +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +or of rivals. They were alone, and content to +be so.</p> +<p>It was deliciously sweet and restful there in +that sunny hollow on the breast of the mountain. +The wind swept through the worn branches of +the dwarfed spruce with immemorial wistfulness; +but these young souls heard it only as a far-off +song. Side by side on the soft Alpine clover +they rested and talked, looking away at the shining +peaks, and down over the dark-green billows +of fir beneath them. Half the forest was under +their eyes at the moment, and the man said: +“Is it not magnificent! It makes me proud of +my country. Just think, all this glorious spread +of hill and valley is under your father’s direction. +I may say under <i>your</i> direction, for I notice +he does just about what you tell him to do.”</p> +<p>“You’ve noticed that?” she laughed. “If I +were a man I’d rather be Supervisor of this forest +than Congressman.”</p> +<p>“So would I,” he agreed. “Nash says you +<i>are</i> the Supervisor. I wonder if your father realizes +how efficient you are? Does he ever sorrow +over your not being a boy?”</p> +<p>Her eyes shone with mirth. “Not that I can +notice. He ’pears contented.”</p> +<p>“You’re a good deal like a son to him, I +imagine. You can do about all that a boy can do, +anyhow—more than I could ever do. Does he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +realize how much you have to do with the management +of his forest? I’ve never seen your like. +I really believe you <i>could</i> carry on the work as +well as he.”</p> +<p>She flushed with pleasure. “You seem to +think I’m a district forester in disguise.”</p> +<p>“I have eyes, Miss Supervisor, and also ears—which +leads me to ask: Why don’t you clean out +that saloon gang? Landon is sure there’s crooked +work going on at that mill—certainly that open +bar is a disgraceful and corrupting thing.”</p> +<p>Her face clouded. “We’ve tried to cut out +that saloon, but it can’t be done. You see, it’s +on a patented claim—the claim was bogus, of +course, and we’ve made complaint, but the matter +is hung up, and that gives ’em a chance to +go on.”</p> +<p>“Well, let’s not talk of that. It’s too delicious +an hour for any question of business. It is a +moment for poetry. I wish I could write what +I feel this moment. Why don’t we camp here +and watch the sun go down and the moon rise? +From our lofty vantage-ground the coming of +dawn would be an epic.”</p> +<p>“We mustn’t think of that,” she protested. +“We must be going.”</p> +<p>“Not yet. The hour is too perfect. It may +never come again. The wind in the pines, the +sunshine, the conies crying from their rocks, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +butterflies on the clover—my heart aches with the +beauty of it. It’s been a wonderful trip. Even +that staggering walk in the rain had its splendid +quality. I couldn’t see the poetry in it then; +but I do now. These few days have made us +comrades, haven’t they—comrades of the trail? +You have been very considerate of me.” He took +her hand. “I’ve never seen such hands. They +are like steel, and yet they are feminine.”</p> +<p>She drew her hands away. “I’m ashamed of +my hands—they are so big and rough and dingy.”</p> +<p>“They’re brown, of course, and calloused—a +little—but they are not big, and they are beautifully +modeled.” He looked at her speculatively. +“I am wondering how you would look in conventional +dress.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean—” She hesitated. “I’d look +like a gawk in one of those low-necked outfits. +I’d never dare—and those tight skirts would +sure cripple me.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, they wouldn’t. You’d have to modify +your stride a little; but you’d negotiate it. +You’re equal to anything.”</p> +<p>“You’re making fun of me!”</p> +<p>“No, I’m not. I’m in earnest. You’re the +kind of American girl that can go anywhere and +do anything. My sisters would mortgage their +share of the golden streets for your abounding +health—and so would I.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></p> +<p>“You are all right now,” she smiled. “You +don’t look or talk as you did.”</p> +<p>“It’s this sunlight.” He lifted a spread hand +as if to clutch and hold something. “I feel it +soaking into me like some magical oil. No more +moping and whining for me. I’ve proved that +hardship is good for me.”</p> +<p>“Don’t crow till you’re out of the woods. It’s +a long ride down the hill, and going down is harder +on the tenderfoot than going up.”</p> +<p>“I’m no longer a tenderfoot. All I need is +another trip like this with you and I shall be a +master trailer.”</p> +<p>All this was very sweet to her, and though she +knew they should be going, she lingered. Childishly +reckless of the sinking sun, she played with +the wild flowers at her side and listened to his +voice in complete content. He was right. The +hour was too beautiful to be shortened, although +she saw no reason why others equally delightful +might not come to them both. He was more of +the lover than he had ever been before, that she +knew, and in the light of his eyes all that was not +girlish and charming melted away. She forgot +her heavy shoes, her rough hands and sun-tanned +face, and listened with wondering joy and pride +to his words, which were of a fineness such as she +had never heard spoken—only books contained +such unusual and exquisite phrases. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></p> +<p>A cloud passing across the sun flung down a +shadow of portentous chill and darkness. She +started to her feet with startled recollection of +the place and the hour.</p> +<p>“We <i>must</i> be going—at once!” she commanded.</p> +<p>“Not yet,” he pleaded. “It’s only a cloud. +The sun is coming out again. I have perfect +confidence in your woodcraft. Why not spend +another night on the trail? It may be our last +trip together.”</p> +<p>He tempted her strongly, so frank and boyish +and lovable were his glances and his words. But +she was vaguely afraid of herself, and though the +long ride at the moment seemed hard and dull, +the thought of her mother waiting decided her +action.</p> +<p>“No, no!” she responded, firmly. “We’ve +wasted too much time already. We must ride.”</p> +<p>He looked up at her with challenging glance. +“Suppose I refuse—suppose I decide to stay +here?”</p> +<p>Upon her, as he talked, a sweet hesitation fell, +a dream which held more of happiness than she +had ever known. “It is a long, hard ride,” she +thought, “and another night on the trail will not +matter.” And so the moments passed on velvet +feet, and still she lingered, reluctant to break +the spell. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p> +<p>Suddenly, into their idyllic drowse of content, +so sweet, so youthful, and so pure of heart, +broke the sound of a horse’s hurrying, clashing, +steel-shod feet, and looking up Berrie saw a +mounted man coming down the mountainside +with furious, reckless haste.</p> +<p>“It is Cliff!” she cried out. “He’s on our +trail!” And into her face came a look of alarm. +Her lips paled, her eyes widened. “He’s mad—he’s +dangerous! Leave him to me,” she added, +in a low, tense voice.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XI_THE_DEATHGRAPPLE' id='XI_THE_DEATHGRAPPLE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +<h2>XI</h2> +<h3>THE DEATH-GRAPPLE</h3> +</div> + +<p>There was something so sinister in the +rider’s disregard of stone and tree and +pace, something so menacing in the forward +thrust of his body, that Berrie was able to divine +his wrath, and was smitten into irresolution—all +her hardy, boyish self-reliance swallowed up in +the weakness of the woman. She forgot the +pistol at her belt, and awaited the assault with +rigid pose.</p> +<p>As Belden neared them Norcross also perceived +that the rider’s face was distorted with passion, +and that his glance was not directed upon Berrie, +but upon himself, and he braced himself for the +attack.</p> +<p>Leaving his saddle with one flying leap, which +the cowboy practises at play, Belden hurled himself +upon his rival with the fury of a panther.</p> +<p>The slender youth went down before the big +rancher as though struck by a catapult; and +the force of his fall against the stony earth +stunned him so that he lay beneath his enemy +as helpless as a child.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +<img src='images/illus-196.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 317px; height: 457px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 317px;'> +THE SLENDER YOUTH WENT DOWN BEFORE THE BIG RANCHER AS THOUGH STRUCK BY A CATAPULT<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Belden snarled between his teeth: “I told you +I’d kill you, and I will.”</p> +<p>But this was not to be. Berea suddenly recovered +her native force. With a cry of pain, +of anger, she flung herself on the maddened +man’s back. Her hands encircled his neck like +a collar of bronze. Hardened by incessant use +of the cinch and the rope, her fingers sank into +the sinews of his great throat, shutting off both +blood and breath.</p> +<p>“Let go!” she commanded, with deadly intensity. +“Let go, or I’ll choke the life out of +you! Let go, I say!”</p> +<p>He raised a hand to beat her off, but she was +too strong, too desperate to be driven away. +She was as blind to pain as a mother eagle, and +bent above him so closely that he could not +bring the full weight of his fist to bear. With +one determined hand still clutching his throat, +she ran the fingers of her other hand into his +hair and twisted his head upward with a power +which he could not resist. And so, looking into +his upturned, ferocious eyes, she repeated with +remorseless fury: “<i>Let go</i>, I say!”</p> +<p>His swollen face grew rigid, his mouth gaped, +his tongue protruded, and at last, releasing his +hold on his victim, he rose, flinging Berrie off +with a final desperate effort. “I’ll kill you, too!” +he gasped. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p> +<p>Up to this moment the girl had felt no fear of +herself; but now she resorted to other weapons. +Snatching her pistol from its holster, she leveled +it at his forehead. “Stop!” she said; and something +in her voice froze him into calm. He was +not a fiend; he was not a deliberate assassin; +he was only a jealous, despairing, insane lover, +and as he looked into the face he knew so well, +and realized that nothing but hate and deadly +resolution lit the eyes he had so often kissed, his +heart gave way, and, dropping his head, he +said: “Kill me if you want to. I’ve nothing +left to live for.”</p> +<p>There was something unreal, appalling in this +sudden reversion to weakness, and Berrie could +not credit his remorse. “Give me your gun,” +she said.</p> +<p>He surrendered it to her and she threw it +aside; then turned to Wayland, who was lying +white and still with face upturned to the sky. +With a moan of anguish she bent above him and +called upon his name. He did not stir, and +when she lifted his head to her lap his hair, +streaming with blood, stained her dress. She +kissed him and called again to him, then turned +with accusing frenzy to Belden: “You’ve killed +him! Do you hear? You’ve killed him!”</p> +<p>The agony, the fury of hate in her voice +reached the heart of the conquered man. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +raised his head and stared at her with mingled +fear and remorse. And so across that limp body +these two souls, so lately lovers, looked into each +other’s eyes as though nothing but words of hate +and loathing had ever passed between them. +The girl saw in him only a savage, vengeful, +bloodthirsty beast; the man confronted in her +an accusing angel.</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean to kill him,” he muttered.</p> +<p>“Yes, you did! You meant it. You crushed +his life out with your big hands—and now I’m +going to kill you for it!”</p> +<p>A fierce calm had come upon her. Some far-off +ancestral deep of passion called for blood +revenge. She lifted the weapon with steady +hand and pointed it at his heart.</p> +<p>His fear passed as his wrath had passed. His +head drooped, his glance wavered. “Shoot!” he +commanded, sullenly. “I’d sooner die than +live—now.”</p> +<p>His words, his tone, brought back to her a +vision of the man he had seemed when she first +met and admired him. Her hand fell, the woman +in her reasserted itself. A wave of weakness, of +indecision, of passionate grief overwhelmed her. +“Oh, Cliff!” she moaned. “Why did you do it? +He was so gentle and sweet.”</p> +<p>He did not answer. His glance wandered to +his horse, serenely cropping the grass in utter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +disregard of this tumultuous human drama; but +the wind, less insensate than the brute, swept +through the grove of dwarfed, distorted pines +with a desolate, sympathetic moan which filled +the man’s heart with a new and exalted sorrow. +“You’re right,” he said. “I was crazy. I deserve +killing.”</p> +<p>But Berrie was now too deep in her own desolation +to care what he said or did. She kissed +the cold lips of the still youth, murmuring passionately: +“I don’t care to live without you—I +shall go with you!”</p> +<p>Belden’s hand was on her wrist before she +could raise her weapon. “Don’t, for God’s sake, +don’t do that! He may not be dead.”</p> +<p>She responded but dully to the suggestion. +“No, no. He’s gone. His breath is gone.”</p> +<p>“Maybe not. Let me see.”</p> +<p>Again she bent to the quiet face on which the +sunlight fell with mocking splendor. It seemed +all a dream till she felt once more the stain of +his blood upon her hands. It was all so incredibly +sudden. Only just now he was exulting +over the warmth and beauty of the day—and +now—</p> +<p>How beautiful he was. He seemed asleep. +The conies crying from their runways suddenly +took on poignant pathos. They appeared to be +grieving with her; but the eagles spoke of revenge. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span></p> +<p>A sharp cry, a note of joy sprang from her +lips. “He <i>is</i> alive! I saw his eyelids quiver—quick! +Bring some water.”</p> +<p>The man leaped to his feet, and, running down +to the pool, filled his sombrero with icy water. +He was as eager now to save his rival as he had +been mad to destroy him. “Let me help,” he +pleaded. But she would not permit him to +touch the body.</p> +<p>Again, while splashing the water upon his +face, the girl called upon her love to return. +“He hears me!” she exulted to her enemy. “He +is breathing now. He is opening his eyes.”</p> +<p>The wounded man did, indeed, open his eyes, +but his look was a blank, uncomprehending stare, +which plunged her back into despair. “He don’t +know me!” she said, with piteous accent. She +now perceived the source of the blood upon her +arm. It came from a wound in the boy’s head +which had been dashed upon a stone.</p> +<p>The sight of this wound brought back the +blaze of accusing anger to her eyes. “See what +you did!” she said, with cold malignity. Then +by sudden shift she bent to the sweet face in her +arms and kissed it passionately. “Open your +eyes, darling. You must not die! I won’t let +you die! Can’t you hear me? Don’t you know +where you are?”</p> +<p>He opened his eyes once more, quietly, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +looked up into her face with a faint, drowsy +smile. He could not yet locate himself in space +and time, but he knew her and was comforted. +He wondered why he should be looking up into +a sunny sky. He heard the wind and the sound +of a horse cropping grass, and the voice of the +girl penetratingly sweet as that of a young +mother calling her baby back to life, and slowly +his benumbed brain began to resolve the mystery.</p> +<p>Belden, forgotten, ignored as completely as the +conies, sat with choking throat and smarting eyes. +For him the world was only dust and ashes—a +ruin which his own barbaric spirit had brought +upon itself.</p> +<p>Slowly the youth’s eyes took on expression. +“Are we still on the hill?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, dearest,” she assured him. Then to +Belden, “He knows where he is!”</p> +<p>Wayland again struggled with reality. “What +has happened to me?”</p> +<p>“You fell and hurt your head.”</p> +<p>He turned slightly and observed the other man +looking down at her with dark and tragic glance. +“Hello, Belden,” he said, feebly. “How came +you here?” Then noting Berrie’s look, he added: +“I remember. He tried to kill me.” He again +searched his antagonist’s face. “Why didn’t +you finish the job?”</p> +<p>The girl tried to turn his thought aside. “It’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +all right now, darling. He won’t make any +more trouble. Don’t mind him. I don’t care +for anybody now you are coming back to me.”</p> +<p>Wayland wonderingly regarded the face of the +girl. “And you—are you hurt?”</p> +<p>“No, I’m not hurt. I am perfectly happy +now.” She turned to Belden with quick, authoritative +command. “Unsaddle the horses +and set up the tent. We won’t be able to leave +here to-night.”</p> +<p>He rose with instant obedience, glad of a +chance to serve her, and soon had the tent +pegged to its place and the bedding unrolled. +Together they lifted the wounded youth and +laid him upon his blankets beneath the low canvas +roof which seemed heavenly helpful to Berea.</p> +<p>“There!” she said, caressingly. “Now you +are safe, no matter whether it rains or not.”</p> +<p>He smiled. “It seems I’m to have my way +after all. I hope I shall be able to see the sun +rise. I’ve sort of lost my interest in the sunset.”</p> +<p>“Now, Cliff,” she said, as soon as the camp +was in order and a fire started, “I reckon you’d +better ride on. I haven’t any further use for +you.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say that, Berrie,” he pleaded. “I +can’t leave you here alone with a sick man. Let +me stay and help.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></p> +<p>She looked at him for a long time before she +replied. “I shall never be able to look at you +again without hating you,” she said. “I shall +always remember you as you looked when you +were killing that boy. So you’d better ride on +and keep a-riding. I’m going to forget all this +just as soon as I can, and it don’t help me any +to have you around. I never want to see you +or hear your name again.”</p> +<p>“You don’t mean that, Berrie!”</p> +<p>“Yes, I do,” she asserted, bitterly. “I mean +just that. So saddle up and pull out. All I +ask of you is to say nothing about what has happened +here. You’d better leave the state. If +Wayland should get worse it might go hard +with you.”</p> +<p>He accepted his banishment. “All right. If +you feel that way I’ll ride. But I’d like to do +something for you before I go. I’ll pile up some +wood—”</p> +<p>“No. I’ll take care of that.” And without +another word of farewell she turned away and +re-entered the tent.</p> +<p>Mounting his horse with painful slowness, as +though suddenly grown old, the reprieved assassin +rode away up the mountain, his head +low, his eyes upon the ground.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XII_BERRIE_S_VIGIL' id='XII_BERRIE_S_VIGIL'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +<h2>XII</h2> +<h3>BERRIE’S VIGIL</h3> +</div> + +<p>The situation in which Berea now found herself +would have disheartened most women of +mature age, but she remained not only composed, +she was filled with an irrational delight. The +nurse that is in every woman was aroused in her, +and she looked forward with joy to a night of +vigil, confident that Wayland was not seriously +injured and that he would soon be able to ride. +She had no fear of the forest or of the night. +Nature held no menace now that her tent was +set and her fire alight.</p> +<p>Wayland, without really knowing anything +about it, suspected that he owed his life to her +intervention, and this belief deepened the feeling +of admiration which he had hitherto felt +toward her. He listened to her at work around +the fire with a deepening sense of his indebtedness +to her, and when she looked in to ask if she +could do anything for him, his throat filled with +an emotion which rendered his answer difficult.</p> +<p>As his mind cleared he became very curious +to know precisely what had taken place, but he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +did not feel free to ask her. “She will tell me +if she wishes me to know.” That she had vanquished +Belden and sent him on his way was +evident, although he had not been able to hear +what she had said to him at the last. What lay +between the enemy’s furious onslaught and the +aid he lent in making the camp could only be +surmised. “I wonder if she used her pistol?” +Wayland asked himself. “Something like death +must have stared him in the face.”</p> +<p>“Strange how everything seems to throw me +ever deeper into her debt,” he thought, a little +later. But he did not quite dare put into words +the resentment which mingled with his gratitude. +He hated to be put so constantly into the +position of the one protected, defended. And +yet it was his own fault. He had put himself +among people and conditions where she was the +stronger. Having ventured out of his world into +hers he must take the consequences.</p> +<p>That she loved him with the complete passion +of her powerful and simple nature he knew, for +her voice had reached through the daze of his +semi-unconsciousness with thrilling power. The +touch of her lips to his, the close clasp of her +strong arms were of ever greater convincing +quality. And yet he wished the revelation had +come in some other way. His pride was abraded. +His manhood seemed somehow lessened. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +a disconcerting reversal of the ordinary relations +between hero and heroine, and he saw no way +of re-establishing the normal attitude of the male.</p> +<p>Entirely unaware of what was passing in the +mind of her patient, Berrie went about her +duties with a cheerfulness which astonished the +sufferer in the tent. She seemed about to hum +a song as she set the skillet on the fire, but a +moment later she called out, in a tone of irritation: +“Here comes Nash!”</p> +<p>“I’m glad of that,” answered Wayland, although +he perceived something of her displeasure.</p> +<p>Nash, on his way to join the Supervisor, raised +a friendly greeting as he saw the girl, and drew +rein. “I expected to meet you farther down +the hill,” he said. “Tony ’phoned that you had +started. Where did you leave the Supervisor?”</p> +<p>“Over at the station waiting for you. Where’s +your outfit?”</p> +<p>“Camped down the trail a mile or so. I +thought I’d better push through to-night. What +about Norcross? Isn’t he with you?”</p> +<p>She hesitated an instant. “He’s in the tent. +He fell and struck his head on a rock, and I had +to go into camp here.”</p> +<p>Nash was deeply concerned. “Is that so? +Well, that’s hard luck. Is he badly hurt?”</p> +<p>“Well, he had a terrible fall. But he’s easier +now. I think he’s asleep.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<p>“May I look in on him?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think you’d better take the time. +It’s a long, hard ride from here to the station. +It will be deep night before you can make it—”</p> +<p>“Don’t you think the Supervisor would want +me to camp here to-night and do what I could +for you? If Norcross is badly injured you will +need me.”</p> +<p>She liked Nash, and she knew he was right, +and yet she was reluctant to give up the pleasure +of her lone vigil. “He’s not in any danger, and +we’ll be able to ride on in the morning.”</p> +<p>Nash, thinking of her as Clifford Belden’s +promised wife, had no suspicion of her feeling +toward Norcross. Therefore he gently urged +that to go on was quite out of order. “I <i>can’t</i> +think of leaving you here alone—certainly not +till I see Norcross and find out how badly he is +hurt.”</p> +<p>She yielded. “I reckon you’re right,” she +said. “I’ll go see if he is awake.”</p> +<p>He followed her to the door of the tent, apprehending +something new and inexplicable in her +attitude. In the music of her voice as she spoke +to the sick man was the love-note of the mate. +“You may come in,” she called back, and Nash, +stooping, entered the small tent.</p> +<p>“Hello, old man, what you been doing with +yourself? Hitting the high spots?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></p> +<p>Norcross smiled feebly. “No, the hill flew +up and bumped <i>me</i>.”</p> +<p>“How did it all happen?”</p> +<p>“I don’t exactly know. It all came of a sudden. +I had no share in it—I didn’t go for to +do it.”</p> +<p>“Whether you did or not, you seem to have +made a good job of it.”</p> +<p>Nash examined the wounded man carefully, +and his skill and strength in handling Norcross +pleased Berrie, though she was jealous of the +warm friendship which seemed to exist between +the men.</p> +<p>She had always liked Nash, but she resented +him now, especially as he insisted on taking +charge of the case; but she gave way finally, +and went back to her pots and pans with pensive +countenance.</p> +<p>A little later, when Nash came out to make report, +she was not very gracious in her manner. +“He’s pretty badly hurt,” he said. “There’s an +ugly gash in his scalp, and the shock has produced +a good deal of pain and confusion in his +head; but he’s going to be all right in a day or +two. For a man seeking rest and recuperation +he certainly has had a tough run of weather.”</p> +<p>Though a serious-minded, honorable forester, +determined to keep sternly in mind that he was +in the presence of the daughter of his chief, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +that she was engaged to marry another, Nash +was, after all, a man, and the witchery of the +hour, the charm of the girl’s graceful figure, +asserted their power over him. His eyes grew +tender, and his voice eloquent in spite of himself. +His words he could guard, but it was hard +to keep from his speech the song of the lover. +The thought that he was to camp in her company, +to help her about the fire, to see her from +moment to moment, with full liberty to speak +to her, to meet her glance, pleased him. It was +the most romantic and moving episode in his +life, and though of a rather dry and analytic +temperament he had a sense of poesy.</p> +<p>The night, black, oppressive, and silent, brought +a closer bond of mutual help and understanding +between them. He built a fire of dry branches +close to the tent door, and there sat, side by side +with the girl, in the glow of embers, so close to +the injured youth that they could talk together, +and as he spoke freely, yet modestly, of his experiences +Berrie found him more deeply interesting +than she had hitherto believed him to be. +True, he saw things less poetically than Wayland, +but he was finely observant, and a man of +studious and refined habits.</p> +<p>She grew friendlier, and asked him about his +work, and especially about his ambitions and +plans for the future. They discussed the forest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +and its enemies, and he wondered at her freedom +in speaking of the Mill and saloon. He said: +“Of course you know that Alec Belden is a +partner in that business, and I’m told—of course +I don’t know this—that Clifford Belden is also +interested.”</p> +<p>She offered no defense of young Belden, and +this unconcern puzzled him. He had expected +indignant protest, but she merely replied: “I +don’t care who owns it. It should be rooted out. +I hate that kind of thing. It’s just another way +of robbing those poor tie-jacks.”</p> +<p>“Clifford should get out of it. Can’t you persuade +him to do so?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I can.”</p> +<p>“His relationship to you—”</p> +<p>“He is not related to me.”</p> +<p>Her tone amazed him. “You know what I +mean.”</p> +<p>“Of course I do, but you’re mistaken. We’re +not related that way any longer.”</p> +<p>This silenced him for a few moments, then he +said: “I’m rather glad of that. He isn’t anything +like the man you thought he was—I +couldn’t say these things before—but he is as +greedy as Alec, only not so open about it.”</p> +<p>All this comment, which moved the forester +so deeply to utter, seemed not to interest Berea. +She sat staring at the fire with the calm brow of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +an Indian. Clifford Belden had passed out of +her life as completely as he had vanished out +of the landscape. She felt an immense relief at +being rid of him, and resented his being brought +back even as a subject of conversation.</p> +<p>Wayland, listening, fancied he understood her +desire, and said nothing that might arouse +Nash’s curiosity.</p> +<p>Nash, on his part, knowing that she had +broken with Belden, began to understand the +tenderness, the anxious care of her face and +voice, as she bent above young Norcross. As +the night deepened and the cold air stung, he +asked: “Have you plenty of blankets for a bed?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes,” she answered, “but I don’t intend +to sleep.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you must!” he declared. “Go to bed. +I will keep the fire going.”</p> +<p>At last she consented. “I will make my bed +right here at the mouth of the tent close to the +fire,” she said, “and you can call me if you +need me.”</p> +<p>“Why not put your bed in the tent? It’s +going to be cold up here.”</p> +<p>“I am all right outside,” she protested.</p> +<p>“Put your bed inside, Miss Berrie. We can’t +let conventions count above timber-line. I +shall rest better if I know you are properly +sheltered.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></p> +<p>And so it happened that for the third time she +shared the same roof with her lover; but the +nurse was uppermost in her now. At eleven +thousand feet above the sea—with a cold drizzle +of fine rain in the air—one does not consider the +course of gossip as carefully as in a village, and +Berrie slept unbrokenly till daylight.</p> +<p>Nash was the first to arise in the dusk of dawn, +and Berrie, awakened by the crackle of his fire, +soon joined him. There is no sweeter sound +than the voice of the flame at such a time, in +such a place. It endows the bleak mountainside +with comfort, makes the ledge a hearthstone. +It holds the promise of savory meats and fragrant +liquor, and robs the frosty air of its terrors.</p> +<p>Wayland, hearing their voices, called out, +with feeble humor: “Will some one please turn +on the steam in my room?”</p> +<p>Berrie uttered a happy word. “How do you +feel this morning?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Not precisely like a pugilist—well, yes, I believe +I do—like the fellow who got second money.”</p> +<p>“How is the bump?” inquired Nash, thrusting +his head inside the door.</p> +<p>“Reduced to the size of a golf-ball as near as +I can judge of it. I doubt if I can wear a hat; +but I’m feeling fine. I’m going to get up.”</p> +<p>Berrie was greatly relieved. “I’m so glad! +Do you feel like riding down the hill?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p> +<p>“Sure thing! I’m hungry, and as soon as I +am fed I’m ready to start.”</p> +<p>Berrie joined the surveyor at the fire.</p> +<p>“If you’ll round up our horses, Mr. Nash, +I’ll rustle breakfast and we’ll get going,” she said.</p> +<p>Nash, enthralled, lingered while she twisted +her hair into place, then went out to bring in +the ponies.</p> +<p>Wayland came out a little uncertainly, but +looking very well. “I think I shall discourage +my friends from coming to this region for their +health,” he said, ruefully. “If I were a novelist +now all this would be grist for my mill.”</p> +<p>Beneath his joking he was profoundly chagrined. +He had hoped by this time to be as +sinewy, as alert as Nash, instead of which here +he sat, shivering over the fire like a sick girl, his +head swollen, his blood sluggish; but this discouragement +only increased Berea’s tenderness—a +tenderness which melted all his reserve.</p> +<p>“I’m not worth all your care,” he said to her, +with poignant glance.</p> +<p>The sun rose clear and warm, and the fire, +the coffee, put new courage into him as well as +into the others, and while the morning was yet +early and the forest chill and damp with rain, +the surveyor brought up the horses and started +packing the outfit.</p> +<p>In this Berrie again took part, doing her half +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +of the work quite as dextrously as Nash himself. +Indeed, the forester was noticeably confused +and not quite up to his usual level of adroit +ease.</p> +<p>At last both packs were on, and as they stood +together for a moment, Nash said: “This has +been a great experience—one I shall remember +as long as I live.”</p> +<p>She stirred uneasily under his frank admiration. +“I’m mightily obliged to you,” she replied, +as heartily as she could command.</p> +<p>“Don’t thank me, I’m indebted to you. There +is so little in my life of such companionship as +you and Norcross give me.”</p> +<p>“You’ll find it lonesome over at the station, +I’m afraid,” said she. “But Moore intends to +put a crew of tie-cutters in over there—that will +help some.” She smiled.</p> +<p>“I’m not partial to the society of tie-jacks.”</p> +<p>“If you ride hard you may find that Moore +girl in camp. She was there when we left.” +There was a sparkle of mischief in her glance.</p> +<p>“I’m not interested in the Moore girl,” he +retorted.</p> +<p>“Do you know her?”</p> +<p>“I’ve seen her at the post-office once or twice; +<i>she</i> is not my kind.”</p> +<p>She gave him her hand. “Well, good-by. +I’m all right now that Wayland can ride.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>He held her hand an instant. “I believe I’ll +ride back with you as far as the camp.”</p> +<p>“You’d better go on. Father is waiting for +you. I’ll send the men along.” There was dismissal +in her voice, and yet she recognized as +never before the fine qualities that were his. +“Please don’t say anything of this to others, +and tell my father not to worry about us. We’ll +pull in all right.”</p> +<p>He helped Norcross mount his horse, and as +he put the lead rope into Berrie’s hand, he said: +with much feeling: “Good luck to you. I shall +remember this night all the rest of my life.”</p> +<p>“I hate to be going to the rear,” called Wayland, +whose bare, bandaged head made him +look like a wounded young officer. “But I +guess it’s better for me to lay off for a week or +two and recover my tone.”</p> +<p>And so they parted, the surveyor riding his +determined way up the naked mountainside +toward the clouds, while Berrie and her ward +plunged at once into the dark and dripping +forest below. “If you can stand the grief,” she +said, “we’ll go clear through.”</p> +<p>Wayland had his misgivings, but did not say +so. His confidence in his guide was complete. +She would do her part, that was certain. Several +times she was forced to dismount and blaze out +a new path in order to avoid some bog; but she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +sternly refused his aid. “You must not get off,” +she warned; “stay where you are. I can do +this work better alone.”</p> +<p>They were again in that green, gloomy, and +silent zone of the range, where giant spruces grow, +and springs, oozing from the rocks, trickle over +the trail. It was very beautiful, but menacing, +by reason of its apparently endless thickets cut +by stony ridges. It was here she met the two +young men, Downing and Travis, bringing forward +the surveying outfit, but she paused only +to say: “Push along steadily. You are needed +on the other side.”</p> +<p>After leaving the men, and with a knowledge +that the remaining leagues of the trail were +solitary, Norcross grew fearful. “The fall of a +horse, an accident to that brave girl, and we +would be helpless,” he thought. “I wish Nash +had returned with us.” Once his blood chilled +with horror as he watched his guide striking out +across the marge of a grassy lake. This meadow, +as he divined, was really a carpet of sod floating +above a bottomless pool of muck, for it shook +beneath her horse’s feet.</p> +<p>“Come on, it’s all right,” she called back, +cheerily. “We’ll soon pick up the other trail.”</p> +<p>He wondered how she knew, for to him each +hill was precisely like another, each thicket a +maze. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></p> +<p>Her caution was all for him. She tried each +dangerous slough first, and thus was able to advise +him which way was safest. His head throbbed +with pain and his knees were weary, but he rode +on, manifesting such cheer as he could, resolving +not to complain at any cost; but his self-respect +ebbed steadily, leaving him in bitter, silent dejection.</p> +<p>At last they came into open ground on a high +ridge, and were gladdened by the valley outspread +below them, for it was still radiant with +color, though not as brilliant as before the rain. +It had been dimmed, but not darkened. And +yet it seemed that a month had passed since +their ecstatic ride upward through the golden +forest, and Wayland said as much while they +stood for a moment surveying the majestic park +with its wall of guardian peaks.</p> +<p>But Berrie replied: “It seems only a few hours +to me.”</p> +<p>From this point the traveling was good, and +they descended rapidly, zigzagging from side to +side of a long, sweeping ridge. By noon they +were once more down amid the aspens, basking +in a world of sad gold leaves and delicious +September sunshine.</p> +<p>At one o’clock, on the bank of a clear stream, +the girl halted. “I reckon we’d better camp +awhile. You look tired, and I am hungry.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span></p> +<p>He gratefully acquiesced in this stop, for +his knees were trembling with the strain of the +stirrups; but he would not permit her to ease +him down from his saddle. Turning a wan +glance upon her, he bitterly asked: “Must I +always play the weakling before you? I am +ashamed of myself. Ride on and leave me to +rot here in the grass. I’m not worth keeping +alive.”</p> +<p>“You must not talk like that,” she gently +admonished him. “You’re not to blame.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I am. I should never have ventured +into this man’s country.”</p> +<p>“I’m glad you did,” she answered, as if she +were comforting a child. “For if you hadn’t I +should never have known you.”</p> +<p>“That would have been no loss—to you,” he +bitterly responded.</p> +<p>She unsaddled one pack-animal and spread +some blankets on the grass. “Lie down and +rest while I boil some coffee,” she commanded; +and he obeyed, too tired to make pretension toward +assisting.</p> +<p>Lying so, feeling the magic of the sun, hearing +the music of the water, and watching the girl, +he regained a serener mood, and when she came +back with his food he thanked her for it with a +glance before which her eyes fell. “I don’t see +why you are so kind to me, I really believe you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +<i>like</i> to do things for me.” Her head drooped to +hide her face, and he went on: “Why do you +care for me? Tell me!”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” she murmured. Then she +added, with a flash of bravery: “But I do.”</p> +<p>“What a mystery it all is! You turn from a +splendid fellow like Landon to a ‘skate’ like me. +Landon worships you—you know that—don’t +you?”</p> +<p>“I know—he—” she ended, vaguely distressed.</p> +<p>“Did he ask you to marry him?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you? He’s just the mate for +you. He’s a man of high character and education.” +She made no answer to this, and he +went on: “Dear girl, I’m not worth your care—truly +I’m not. I resented your engagement to +Belden, for he was a brute; but Landon is different. +He thinks the world of you. He’ll go high +in the service. I’ve never done anything in the +world—I never shall. It will be better for you +if I go—to-morrow.”</p> +<p>She took his hand and pressed it to her cheek, +then, putting her arm about his neck, drew him +to her bosom and kissed him passionately. “You +break my heart when you talk like that,” she +protested, with tears. “You mustn’t say such +gloomy things—I won’t let you give up. You +shall come right home with me, and I will nurse +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +you till you are well. It was all my fault. If +we had only stayed in camp at the lake daddy +would have joined us that night, and if I had +not loitered on the mountain yesterday Cliff +would not have overtaken us. It’s all my +fault.”</p> +<p>“I will not have it go that way,” he said. “I’ve +brought you only care and unhappiness thus far. +I’m an alien—my ways are not your ways.”</p> +<p>“I can change,” she answered. “I hate my +ways, and I like yours.”</p> +<p>As they argued she felt no shame, and he +voiced no resentment. She knew his mood. +She understood his doubt, his depression. She +pleaded as a man might have done, ready to +prove her love, eager to restore his self-respect, +while he remained both bitter and sadly contemptuous.</p> +<p>A cow-hand riding up the trail greeted Berrie +respectfully, but a cynical smile broke out on his +lips as he passed on. Another witness—another +gossip.</p> +<p>She did not care. She had no further concern +of the valley’s comment. Her life’s happiness +hung on the drooping eyelashes of this wounded +boy, and to win him back to cheerful acceptance +of life was her only concern.</p> +<p>“I’ve never had any motives,” he confessed. +“I’ve always done what pleased me at the moment—or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +because it was easier to do as others +were doing. I went to college that way. Truth +is, I never had any surplus vitality, and my +father never demanded anything of me. I +haven’t any motives now. A few days ago I +was interested in forestry. At this time it all +seems futile. What’s the use of my trying to +live?”</p> +<p>Part of all this despairing cry arose from +weariness, and part from a luxurious desire to +be comforted, for it was sweet to feel her sympathy. +He even took a morbid pleasure in the +distress of her eyes and lips while her rich voice +murmured in soothing protest.</p> +<p>She, on her part, was frightened for him, and +as she thought of the long ride still before them +she wrung her hands. “Oh, what shall I do? +What shall I do?” she moaned.</p> +<p>Instantly smitten into shame, into manlier +mood, he said: “Don’t worry about me, please +don’t. I can ride. I’m feeling better. You +must not weaken. Please forgive my selfish +complaints. I’m done! You’ll never hear it +again. Come, let us go on. I can ride.”</p> +<p>“If we can reach Miller’s ranch—”</p> +<p>“I can ride to <i>your</i> ranch,” he declared, and +rose with such new-found resolution that she +stared at him in wonder.</p> +<p>He was able to smile. “I’ve had my little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +crying spell. I’ve relieved my heart of its load. +I didn’t mean to agonize you. It was only a +slump.” He put his hand to his head. “I must +be a comical figure. Wonder what that cowboy +thought of me?”</p> +<p>His sudden reversal to cheer was a little +alarming to her, but at length she perceived +that he had in truth mastered his depression, +and bringing up the horses she saddled them, +and helped him to mount. “If you get tired +or feel worse, tell me, and we’ll go into camp,” +she urged as they were about to start.</p> +<p>“You keep going till I give the sign,” he replied; +and his voice was so firm and clear that +her own sunny smile came back. “I don’t +know what to make of you,” she said. “I +reckon you must be a poet.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIII_THE_GOSSIPS_AWAKE' id='XIII_THE_GOSSIPS_AWAKE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +<h2>XIII</h2> +<h3>THE GOSSIPS AWAKE</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was dark when they reached the village, but +Wayland declared his ability to go on, although +his wounded head was throbbing with +fever and he was clinging to the pommel of his +saddle; so Berrie rode on.</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane, hearing the horses on the +bridge, was at the door and received her daughter +with wondering question, while the stable-hands, +quick to detect an injured man, hurried to lift +Norcross down from his saddle.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” repeated Mrs. McFarlane.</p> +<p>“He fell and struck his head on a stone,” Berea +hastily explained. “Take the horses, boys, +mother and I will look out for Mr. Norcross.”</p> +<p>The men obeyed her and fell back, but they +were consumed with curiosity, and their glances +irritated the girl. “Slip the packs at once,” she +insisted.</p> +<p>With instant sympathy her mother came to +her aid in supporting the wounded, weary youth +indoors, and as he stretched out on the couch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +in the sitting-room, he remarked, with a faint, +ironic smile: “This beats any bed of balsam +boughs.”</p> +<p>“Where’s your father?” asked Mrs. McFarlane +of her daughter.</p> +<p>“He’s over on the Ptarmigan. I’ve a powerful +lot to tell you, mother; but not now; we +must look after Wayland. He’s nearly done up, +and so am I.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane winced a little at her daughter’s +use of Norcross’s first name, but she said nothing +further at the moment, although she watched +Berrie closely while she took off Wayland’s shoes +and stockings and rubbed his icy feet. “Get +him something hot as quick as you can!” she +commanded; and Mrs. McFarlane obeyed without +a word.</p> +<p>Gradually the tremor passed out of his limbs +and a delicious sense of warmth, of safety, stole +over him, and he closed his eyes in the comfort +of her presence and care. “Rigorous business +this life of the pioneer,” he said, with mocking +inflection. “I think I prefer a place in the +lumber trust.”</p> +<p>“Don’t talk,” she said. Then, with a rush +of tender remorse: “Why didn’t you tell me to +stop? I didn’t realize that you were so tired. +We could have stopped at the Springs.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t know how tired I was till I got here. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +Gee,” he said, boyishly, “that door-knob at the +back of my head is red-hot! You’re good to +me,” he added, humbly.</p> +<p>She hated to have him resume that tone of +self-depreciation, and, kneeling to him, she kissed +his cheek, and laid her head beside his. “You’re +splendid,” she insisted. “Nobody could be +braver; but you should have told me you were +exhausted. You fooled me with your cheerful +answers.”</p> +<p>He accepted her loving praise, her clasping +arms, as a part of the rescue from the darkness +and pain of the long ride, careless of what it +might bring to him in the future. He ate his +toast and drank his coffee, and permitted the +women to lead him to his room, and then being +alone he crept into his bed and fell instantly +asleep.</p> +<p>Berrie and her mother went back to the sitting-room, +and Mrs. McFarlane closed the door behind +them. “Now tell me all about it,” she +said, in the tone of one not to be denied.</p> +<p>The story went along very smoothly till the +girl came to the second night in camp beside the +lake; there her voice faltered, and the reflective +look in the mother’s eyes deepened as she +learned that her daughter had shared her tent +with the young man. “It was the only thing +to do, mother,” Berrie bravely said. “It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +cold and wet outside, and you know he isn’t very +strong, and his teeth were chattering, he was so +chilled. I know it sounds strange down here; +but up there in the woods in the storm what I +did seemed right and natural. You know what +I mean, don’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I understand. I don’t blame you—only—if +others should hear of it—”</p> +<p>“But they won’t. No one knows of our being +alone there except Tony and father.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure? Doesn’t Mrs. Belden know?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think so—not yet.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane’s nervousness grew. “I wish +you hadn’t gone on this trip. If the Beldens find +out you were alone with Mr. Norcross they’ll +make much of it. It will give them a chance +at your father.” Her mind turned upon another +point. “When did Mr. Norcross get his +fall?”</p> +<p>“On the way back.” Here Berrie hesitated +again. “I don’t like to tell you, mother, but +he didn’t fall, Cliff jumped him and tried to +kill him.”</p> +<p>The mother doubted her ears. “Cliff did? +How did he happen to meet you?”</p> +<p>Berrie was quick to answer. “I don’t know +how he found out we were on the trail. I suppose +the old lady ’phoned him. Anyhow, while +we were camped for noon yesterday”—her face +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +flamed again at thought of that tender, beautiful +moment when they were resting on the grass—“while +we were at our lunch he came tearing +down the hill on that big bay horse of his and +took a flying jump at Wayland. As Wayland +went down he struck his head on a stone. I +thought he was dead, and I was paralyzed for a +second. Then I flew at Cliff and just about +choked the life out of him. I’d have ended him +right there if he hadn’t let go.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane, looking upon her daughter +in amazement, saw on her face the shadow of the +deadly rage which had burned in her heart as she +clenched young Belden’s throat.</p> +<p>“What then? What happened then?”</p> +<p>“He let go, you bet.” Her smile came back. +“And when he realized what he’d done—<i>he</i> +thought Wayland was dead—he began to weaken. +Then I took my gun and was all for putting an +end to him right there, when I saw Wayland’s +eyelids move. After that I didn’t care what became +of Cliff. I told him to ride on and keep +a-ridin’, and I reckon he’s clear out of the state +by this time. If he ever shows up I’ll put him +where he’ll have all night to be sorry in.”</p> +<p>“When did this take place?”</p> +<p>“Yesterday about two. Of course Wayland +couldn’t ride, he was so dizzy and kind o’ confused, +and so I went into camp right there at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +timber-line. Along about sunset Nash came +riding up from this side, and insisted on staying +to help me—so I let him.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane’s tense attitude relaxed. +“Nash is not the kind that tattles. I’m glad he +turned up.”</p> +<p>“And this morning I saddled and came down.”</p> +<p>“Did Nash go on?”</p> +<p>“Yes, daddy was waiting for him, so I sent +him along.”</p> +<p>“It’s all sad business,” groaned Mrs. McFarlane, +“and I can see you’re keeping something +back. How did Cliff happen to know just where +you were? And what started you back without +your father?”</p> +<p>For the first time Berrie showed signs of +weakness and distress. “Why, you see, Alec +Belden and Mr. Moore were over there to look +at some timber, and old Marm Belden and that +Moore girl went along. I suppose they sent +word to Cliff, and I presume that Moore girl +put him on our trail. Leastwise that’s the way +I figure it out. That’s the worst of the whole +business.” She admitted this with darkened +brow. “Mrs. Belden’s tongue is hung in the +middle and loose at both ends—and that Moore +girl is spiteful mean.” She could not keep the +contempt out of her voice. “She saw us start +off, and she is sure to follow it up and find out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +what happened on the way home; even if they +don’t see Cliff they’ll <i>talk</i>.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I <i>wish</i> you hadn’t gone!” exclaimed the +worried mother.</p> +<p>“It can’t be helped now, and it hasn’t done +me any real harm. It’s all in the day’s work, +anyhow. I’ve always gone with daddy before, +and this trip isn’t going to spoil me. The boys +all know me, and they will treat me fair.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but Mr. Norcross is an outsider—a city +man. They will all think evil of him on that +account.”</p> +<p>“I know; that’s what troubles me. No one +will know how fine and considerate he was. +Mother, I’ve never known any one like him. +He’s a poet! He’s taught me to see things I +never saw before. Everything interests him—the +birds, the clouds, the voices in the fire. I +never was so happy in my life as I was during +those first two days, and that night in camp before +he began to worry—it was just wonderful.” +Words failed her, but her shining face and the +forward straining pose of her body enlightened +the mother. “I don’t care what people say of +me if only they will be just to him. They’ve <i>got</i> +to treat him right,” she added, firmly.</p> +<p>“Did he speak to you—are you engaged?”</p> +<p>Her head drooped. “Not really engaged, +mother; but he told me how much he liked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +me—and—it’s all right, mother, I <i>know</i> it is. I’m +not fine enough for him, but I’m going to try to +change my ways so he won’t be ashamed of me.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane’s face cleared. “He surely is +a fine young fellow, and can be trusted to do the +right thing. Well, we might as well go to bed. +We can’t settle anything till your father gets +home,” she said.</p> +<p>Wayland rose next morning free from dizziness +and almost free from pain, and when he came +out of his room his expression was cheerful. +“I feel as if I’d slept a week, and I’m hungry. +I don’t know why I should be, but I am.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane met him with something very +intimate, something almost maternal in her look; +but her words were as few and as restrained as +ever. He divined that she had been talking with +Berrie, and that a fairly clear understanding of +the situation had been reached. That this understanding +involved him closely he was aware; +but nothing in his manner acknowledged it.</p> +<p>She did not ask any questions, believing +that sooner or later the whole story must come +out. The fact that Siona Moore and Mrs. Belden +knew that Berrie had started back on +Thursday with young Norcross made it easy for +the villagers to discover that she had not reached +the ranch till Saturday. “What could Joe have +been thinking of to allow them to go?” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +said. “Mr. Nash’s presence in the camp must +be made known; but then there is Clifford’s +assault upon Mr. Norcross, can that be kept +secret, too?” And so while the young people +chatted, the troubled mother waited in fear, +knowing that in a day or two the countryside +would be aflame with accusation.</p> +<p>In a landscape like this, as she well knew, +nothing moves unobserved. The native—man +or woman—is able to perceive and name objects +scarcely discernible to the eye of the alien. A +minute speck is discovered on the hillside. +“Hello, there’s Jim Sanders on his roan,” says +one, or “Here comes Kit Jenkins with her flea-bit +gray. I wonder who’s on the bay alongside +of her,” remarks another, and each of these +observations is taken quite as a matter of course. +With a wide and empty field of vision, and with +trained, unspoiled optic nerves, the plainsman is +marvelously penetrating of glance. Hence, Mrs. +McFarlane was perfectly certain that not one but +several of her neighbors had seen and recognized +Berrie and young Norcross as they came down +the hill. In a day or two every man would know +just where they camped, and what had taken +place in camp. Mrs. Belden would not rest till +she had ferreted out every crook and turn of +that trail, and her speech was quite as coarse +as that of any of her male associates. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></p> +<p>Easy-going with regard to many things, these +citizens were abnormally alive to all matters relating +to courtship, and popular as she believed +Berrie to be, Mrs. McFarlane could not hope +that her daughter would be spared—especially +by the Beldens, who would naturally feel that +Clifford had been cheated. She sighed deeply. +“Well, nothing can be done till Joe returns,” she +repeated.</p> +<p>A long day’s rest, a second night’s sleep, set +Wayland on his feet. He came to breakfast +quite gay. “Barring the hickory-nut on the +back of my head,” he explained, “I’m feeling +fine, almost ready for another expedition. I +may make a ranger yet.”</p> +<p>Berrie, though equally gay, was not so sure +of his ability to return to work. “I reckon you’d +better go easy till daddy gets back; but if you +feel like it we’ll ride up to the post-office this +afternoon.”</p> +<p>“I want to start right in to learn to throw that +hitch, and I’m going to practise with an ax till +I can strike twice in the same place. This trip +was an eye-opener. Great man I’d be in a windfall—wouldn’t +I?”</p> +<p>He was persuaded to remain very quiet for +another day, and part of it was spent in conversation +with Mrs. McFarlane—whom he liked +very much—and an hour or more in writing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +a long letter wherein he announced to his +father his intention of going into the Forest +Service. “I’ve got to build up a constitution,” +he said, “and I don’t know of a better place to +do it in. Besides, I’m beginning to be interested +in the scheme. I like the Supervisor. I’m living +in his house at the present time, and I’m +feeling contented and happy, so don’t worry +about me.”</p> +<p>He was indeed quite comfortable, save when +he realized that Mrs. McFarlane was taking altogether +too much for granted in their relationship. +It was delightful to be so watched over, so +waited upon, so instructed. “But where is it +all leading me?” he continued to ask himself—and +still that wall of reserve troubled and saddened +Berrie.</p> +<p>They expected McFarlane that night, and +waited supper for him, but he did not come, and +so they ate without him, and afterward Wayland +helped Berrie do up the dishes while the mother +bent above her sewing by the kitchen lamp.</p> +<p>There was something very sweet and gentle +about Mrs. McFarlane, and the exile took almost +as much pleasure in talking with her as with +her daughter. He led her to tell of her early +experiences in the valley, and of the strange +types of men and women with whom she had +crossed the range. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span></p> +<p>“Some of them are here yet,” she said. “In +fact the most violent of all the opponents to +the Service are these old adventurers. I don’t +think they deserve to be called pioneers. They +never did any work in clearing the land or in +building homes. Some of them, who own big +herds of cattle, still live in dug-outs. They raged +at Mr. McFarlane for going into the Service—called +him a traitor. Old Jake Proudfoot was +especially furious—”</p> +<p>“You should see where old Jake lives,” interrupted +Berrie. “He sleeps on the floor in one +corner of his cabin, and never changes his shirt.”</p> +<p>“Hush!” warned Mrs. McFarlane.</p> +<p>“That’s what the men all say. Daddy declares +if they were to scrape Jake they’d find at +least five layers of shirts. His wife left him +fifteen years ago, couldn’t stand his habits, and +he’s got worse ever since. Naturally he is opposed +to the Service.”</p> +<p>“Of course,” her mother explained, “those +who oppose the Supervisor aren’t all like Jake; +but it makes me angry to have the papers all +quoting Jake as ‘one of the leading ranchers of +the valley.’”</p> +<p>She could not bring herself to take up the +most vital subject of all—the question of her +daughter’s future. “I’ll wait till father gets +home,” she decided. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></p> +<p>On the fourth morning the ’phone rang, and the +squawking voice of Mrs. Belden came over the +wire. “I wanted to know if Berrie and her +feller got home all right?”</p> +<p>“Yes, they arrived safely.”</p> +<p>The old woman chuckled. “Last I see of Cliff +he was hot on their trail—looked like he expected +to take a hand in that expedition. Did he overtake +’em?”</p> +<p>“I don’t hear very well—where are you?”</p> +<p>“I’m at the Scott ranch—we’re coming round +‘the horn’ to-day.”</p> +<p>“Where is the Supervisor?”</p> +<p>“He headed across yesterday. Say, Cliff was +mad as a hornet when he started. I’d like to +know what happened—”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane hung up the receiver. The +old woman’s nasty chuckle was intolerable; but +in silencing the ’phone Mrs. McFarlane was perfectly +aware that she was not silencing the gossip; +on the contrary, she was certain that the +Beldens would leave a trail of poisonous comment +from the Ptarmigan to Bear Tooth. It was all +sweet material for them.</p> +<p>Berrie wanted to know who was speaking, +and Mrs. McFarlane replied: “Mrs. Belden +wanted to know if you got through all right.”</p> +<p>“She said something else, something to heat +you up,” persisted the girl, who perceived her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +mother’s agitation. “What did she say—something +about me—and Cliff?”</p> +<p>The mother did not answer, for Wayland entered +the room at the moment; but Berrie knew +that traducers were already busy with her +affairs. “I don’t care anything about old lady +Belden,” she said, later; “but I hate to have +that Moore girl telling lies about me.”</p> +<p>As for Wayland, the nights in the camp by the +lake, and, indeed, all the experiences of his trip +in the high places were becoming each moment +more remote, more unreal. Camp life at timber-line +did not seem to him subject to ordinary +conventional laws of human conduct, and the +fact that he and Berrie had shared the same tent +under the stress of cold and snow, now seemed +so far away as to be only a complication in a +splendid mountain drama. Surely no blame +could attach to the frank and generous girl, even +though the jealous assault of Cliff Belden should +throw the valley into a fever of chatter. “Furthermore, +I don’t believe he will be in haste to +speak of his share in the play,” he added. “It +was too nearly criminal.”</p> +<p>It was almost noon of the fourth day when the +Supervisor called up to say that he was at the +office, and would reach the ranch at six o’clock.</p> +<p>“I wish you would come home at once,” his +wife argued; and something in her voice convinced +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +him that he was more needed at home, +than in the town.</p> +<p>“All right, mother. Hold the fort an hour +and I’ll be there.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane met him at the hitching-bar, +and it required but a glance for him to read in +her face a troubled state of mind.</p> +<p>“This has been a disastrous trip for Berrie,” +she said, after one of the hands had relieved the +Supervisor of his horse.</p> +<p>“In what way?”</p> +<p>She was a bit impatient. “Mrs. Belden is filling +the valley with the story of Berrie’s stay in +camp with Mr. Norcross.”</p> +<p>His face showed a graver line. “It couldn’t +be helped. The horses had to be followed, and +that youngster couldn’t do it—and, besides, I +expected to get back that night. Nobody but +an old snoop like Seth Belden would think evil of +our girl. And, besides, Norcross is a man to be +trusted.”</p> +<p>“Of course he is, but the Beldens are ready to +think evil of any one connected with us. And +Cliff’s assault on Wayland—”</p> +<p>He looked up quickly. “Assault? Did he +make trouble?”</p> +<p>“Yes, he overtook them on the trail, and would +have killed Norcross if Berrie hadn’t interfered. +He was crazy with jealousy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></p> +<p>“Nash didn’t say anything about any assault.”</p> +<p>“He didn’t know it. Berrie told him that Norcross +fell from his horse.”</p> +<p>McFarlane was deeply stirred. “I saw Cliff +leave camp, but I didn’t think anything of it. +Why should he jump Norcross?”</p> +<p>“I suppose Mrs. Belden filled him with distrust +of Berrie. He was already jealous, and +when he came up with them and found them +lunching together, he lost his head and rushed +at Wayland like a wild beast. Of course he +couldn’t stand against a big man like Cliff, and +his head struck on a stone; and if Berrie hadn’t +throttled the brute he would have murdered +the poor boy right there before her eyes.”</p> +<p>“Good God! I never suspected a word of +this. I didn’t think he’d do that.”</p> +<p>The Supervisor was now very grave. These +domestic matters at once threw his work as +forester into the region of vague and unimportant +abstractions. He began to understand the +danger into which Berea had fallen, and step +by step he took up the trails which had brought +them all to this pass.</p> +<p>He fixed another penetrating look upon her +face, and his voice was vibrant with anxiety as +he said: “You don’t think there’s anything—wrong?”</p> +<p>“No, nothing wrong; but she’s profoundly in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +love with him. I never have seen her so wrapped +up in any one. She thinks of nothing else. It +scares me to see it, for I’ve studied him closely +and I can’t believe he feels the same toward her. +His world is so different from ours. I don’t +know what to do or say. I fear she is in for a +period of great unhappiness.”</p> +<p>She was at the beginning of tears, and he +sought to comfort her. “Don’t worry, honey, +she’s got too much horse sense to do anything +foolish. She’s grown up. I suppose it’s his +being so different from the other boys that catches +her. We’ve always been good chums—let me +talk with her. She mustn’t make a mistake.”</p> +<p>The return of the crew from the corral cut +short this conference, and when McFarlane went +in Berrie greeted him with such frank and joyous +expression that all his fears vanished.</p> +<p>“Did you come over the high trail?” she asked.</p> +<p>“No, I came your way. I didn’t want to +take any chances on getting mired. It’s still +raining up there,” he answered, then turned to +Wayland: “Here’s your mail, Norcross, a whole +hatful of it—and one telegram in the bunch. +Hope it isn’t serious.”</p> +<p>Wayland took the bundle of letters and retired +to his room, glad to escape the persistent stare +of the cow-hands. The despatch was from his +father, and was curt and specific as a command: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +“Shall be in Denver on the 23d, meet me at the +Palmer House. Am on my way to California. +Come prepared to join me on the trip.”</p> +<p>With the letters unopened in his lap he sat +in silent thought, profoundly troubled by the +instant decision which this message demanded of +him. At first glance nothing was simpler than +to pack up and go. He was only a tourist in the +valley with no intention of staying; but there +was Berea! To go meant a violent end of their +pleasant romance. To think of flight saddened +him, and yet his better judgment was clearly on +the side of going. “Much as I like her, much as +I admire her, I cannot marry her. The simplest +way is to frankly tell her so and go. It seems +cowardly, but in the end she will be happier.”</p> +<p>His letters carried him back into his own world. +One was from Will Halliday, who was going with +Professor Holsman on an exploring trip up the +Nile. “You must join us. Holsman has promised +to take you on.” Another classmate wrote +to know if he did not want to go into a land deal +on the Gulf of Mexico. A girl asked: “Are you +to be in New York this winter? I am. I’ve +decided to go into this Suffrage Movement.” +And so, one by one, the threads which bound him +to Eastern city life re-spun their filaments. +After all, this Colorado outing, even though it +should last two years, would only be a vacation—his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +real life was in the cities of the East. Charming +as Berea was, potent as she seemed, she was +after all a fixed part of the mountain land, and +not to be taken from it. At the moment marriage +with her appeared absurd.</p> +<p>A knock at his door and the Supervisor’s voice +gave him a keen shock. “Come in,” he called, +springing to his feet with a thrill of dread, of +alarm.</p> +<p>McFarlane entered slowly and shut the door +behind him. His manner was serious, and his +voice gravely gentle as he said: “I hope that +telegram does not call you away?”</p> +<p>“It is from my father, asking me to meet him +in Denver,” answered Norcross, with faltering +breath. “He’s on his way to California. Won’t +you sit down?”</p> +<p>The older man took a seat with quiet dignity. +“Seems like a mighty fine chance, don’t it? +I’ve always wanted to see the Coast. When do +you plan for to pull out?”</p> +<p>Wayland was not deceived by the Supervisor’s +casual tone; there was something ominously calm +in his manner, something which expressed an +almost dangerous interest in the subject.</p> +<p>“I haven’t decided to go at all. I’m still +dazed by the suddenness of it. I didn’t know my +father was planning this trip.”</p> +<p>“I see. Well, before you decide to go I’d like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +to have a little talk with you. My daughter has +told me part of what happened to you on the +trail. I want to know <i>all</i> of it. You’re young, +but you’ve been out in the world, and you know +what people can say about you and my girl.” His +voice became level and menacing, as he added: +“And I don’t intend to have her put in wrong +on account of you.”</p> +<p>Norcross was quick to reply. “Nobody will +dare accuse her of wrongdoing. She’s a noble +girl. No one will dare to criticize her for what +she could not prevent.”</p> +<p>“You don’t know the Beldens. My girl’s +character will be on trial in every house in the +county to-morrow. The Belden side of it will +appear in the city papers. Sympathy will be +with Clifford. Berrie will be made an issue by +my enemies. They’ll get me through her.”</p> +<p>“Good Lord!” exclaimed Norcross, in sudden +realization of the gravity of the case. “What +beasts they are!”</p> +<p>“Moore’s gang will seize upon it and work it +hard,” McFarlane went on, with calm insistence. +“They want to bring the district forester down +on me. This is a fine chance to badger me. +They will make a great deal of my putting you +on the roll. Our little camping trip is likely to +prove a serious matter to us all.”</p> +<p>“Surely you don’t consider me at fault?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></p> +<p>Worried as he was, the father was just. “No, +you’re not to blame—no one is to blame. It all +dates back to the horses quitting camp; but +you’ve got to stand pat now—for Berrie’s sake.”</p> +<p>“But what can I do? I’m at your service. +What rôle shall I play? Tell me what to do, and +I will do it.”</p> +<p>McFarlane was staggered, but he answered: +“You can at least stay on the ground and help +fight. This is no time to stampede.”</p> +<p>“You’re right. I’ll stay, and I’ll make any +statement you see fit. I’ll do anything that will +protect Berrie.”</p> +<p>McFarlane again looked him squarely in the +eyes. “Is there a—an agreement between you?”</p> +<p>“Nothing formal—that is—I mean I admire +her, and I told her—” He stopped, feeling himself +on the verge of the irrevocable. “She’s a +splendid girl,” he went on. “I like her exceedingly, +but I’ve known her only a few weeks.”</p> +<p>McFarlane interrupted. “Girls are flighty critters,” +he said, sadly. “I don’t know why she’s +taken to you so terrible strong; but she has. She +don’t seem to care what people say so long as they +do not blame you; but if you should pull out +you might just as well cut her heart to pieces—” +His voice broke, and it was a long time before +he could finish. “You’re not at fault, I know +that, but if you <i>can</i> stay on a little while and make +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +it an ounce or two easier for her and for her +mother, I wish you’d do it.”</p> +<p>Wayland extended his hand impulsively. “Of +course I’ll stay. I never really thought of leaving.” +In the grip of McFarlane’s hand was +something warm and tender.</p> +<p>He rose. “I’m terribly obliged,” he said; “but +we mustn’t let her suspect for a minute that +we’ve been discussing her. She hates being +pitied or helped.”</p> +<p>“She shall not experience a moment’s uneasiness +that I can prevent,” replied the youth; and +at the moment he meant it.</p> +<p>Berrie could not be entirely deceived. She +read in her father’s face a subtle change of line +which she related to something Wayland had +said. “Did he tell you what was in the telegram? +Has he got to go away?” she asked, +anxiously.</p> +<p>“Yes, he said it was from his father.”</p> +<p>“What does his father want of him?”</p> +<p>“He’s on his way to California and wants +Wayland to go with him; but Wayland says he’s +not going.”</p> +<p>A pang shot through Berrie’s heart. “He +mustn’t go—he isn’t able to go,” she exclaimed, +and her pain, her fear, came out in her sharpened, +constricted tone. “I won’t let him go—till +he’s well.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane gently interposed. “He’ll +have to go, honey, if his father needs him.”</p> +<p>“Let his father come here.” She rose, and, +going to his door, decisively knocked. “May I +come in?” she demanded, rather than asked, before +her mother could protest. “I must see you.”</p> +<p>Wayland opened the door, and she entered, +leaving her parents facing each other in mute +helplessness.</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane turned toward her husband +with a face of despair. “She’s ours no longer, +Joe. Our time of bereavement has come.”</p> +<p>He took her in his arms. “There, there, +mother. Don’t cry. It can’t be helped. You +cut loose from your parents and came to me in +just the same way. Our daughter’s a grown +woman, and must have her own life. All we can +do is to defend her against the coyotes who are +busy with her name.”</p> +<p>“But what of <i>him</i>, Joe; he don’t care for her +as she does for him—can’t you see that?”</p> +<p>“He’ll do the right thing, mother; he told me +he would. He knows how much depends on +his staying here now, and he intends to do it.”</p> +<p>“But in the end, Joe, after this scandal is +lived down, can he—will he—marry her? And +if he marries her can they live together and be +happy? His way of life is so different. He +can’t content himself here, and she can’t fit in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +where he belongs. It all seems hopeless to me. +Wouldn’t it be better for her to suffer for a little +while now than to make a mistake that may +last a lifetime?”</p> +<p>“Mebbe it would, mother, but the decision +is not ours. She’s too strong for us to control. +She’s of age, and if she comes to a full understanding +of the situation, she can decide the +question a whole lot better than either of us.”</p> +<p>“That’s true,” she sighed. “In some ways +she’s bigger and stronger than both of us. Sometimes +I wish she were not so self-reliant.”</p> +<p>“Well, that’s the way life is, sometimes, and +I reckon there’s nothin’ left for you an’ me but +to draw closer together and try to fill up the +empty place she’s going to leave between us.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIV_THE_SUMMONS' id='XIV_THE_SUMMONS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +<h2>XIV</h2> +<h3>THE SUMMONS</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Wayland caught the startled look +on Berrie’s face he knew that she had +learned from her father the contents of his telegram, +and that she would require an explanation.</p> +<p>“Are you going away?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes. At least, I must go down to Denver to +see my father. I shall be gone only over night.”</p> +<p>“And will you tell him about our trip?” she +pursued, with unflinching directness. “And +about—me?”</p> +<p>He gave her a chair, and took a seat himself +before replying. “Yes, I shall tell him all about +it, and about you and your father and mother. +He shall know how kind you’ve all been to me.”</p> +<p>He said this bravely, and at the moment he +meant it; but as his father’s big, impassive face +and cold, keen eyes came back to him his courage +sank, and in spite of his firm resolution some +part of his secret anxiety communicated itself +to the girl, who asked many questions, with intent +to find out more particularly what kind of +man the elder Norcross was. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></p> +<p>Wayland’s replies did not entirely reassure +her. He admitted that his father was harsh +and domineering in character, and that he was +ambitious to have his son take up and carry forward +his work. “He was willing enough to have +me go to college till he found I was specializing +on wrong lines. Then I had to fight in order +to keep my place. He’s glad I’m out here, for +he thinks I’m regaining my strength. But just +as soon as I’m well enough he expects me to go +to Chicago and take charge of the Western office. +Of course, I don’t want to do that. I’d rather +work out some problem in chemistry that interests +me; but I may have to give in, for a time +at least.”</p> +<p>“Will your mother and sisters be with your +father?”</p> +<p>“No, indeed! You couldn’t get any one of +them west of the Hudson River with a log-chain. +My sisters were both born in Michigan, but they +want to forget it—they pretend they have forgotten +it. They both have New-Yorkitis. +Nothing but the Plaza will do them now.”</p> +<p>“I suppose they think we’re all ‘Injuns’ out +here?”</p> +<p>“Oh no, not so bad as that; but they wouldn’t +comprehend anything about you except your +muscle. That would catch ’em. They’d worship +your splendid health, just as I do. It’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +pitiful the way they both try to put on weight. +They’re always testing some new food, some new +tonic—they’ll do anything except exercise regularly +and go to bed at ten o’clock.”</p> +<p>All that he said of his family deepened her +dismay. Their interests were so alien to her +own.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid to have you go even for a day,” +she admitted, with simple honesty, which moved +him deeply. “I don’t know what I should do +if you went away. I think of nothing but you +now.”</p> +<p>Her face was pitiful, and he put his arm about +her neck as if she were a child. “You mustn’t +do that. You must go on with your life just +as if I’d never been. Think of your father’s +job—of the forest and the ranch.”</p> +<p>“I can’t do it. I’ve lost interest in the service. +I never want to go into the high country +again, and I don’t want you to go, either. It’s +too savage and cruel.”</p> +<p>“That is only a mood,” he said, confidently. +“It is splendid up there. I shall certainly go +back some time.”</p> +<p>He could not divine, and she could not tell +him, how poignantly she had sensed the menace +of the cold and darkness during his illness. For +the first time in her life she had realized to the +full the unrelenting enmity of the clouds, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +wind, the night; and during that interminable +ride toward home, when she saw him bending +lower and lower over his saddle-bow, her allegiance +to the trail, her devotion to the stirrup was +broken. His weariness and pain had changed +the universe for her. Never again would she +look upon the range with the eyes of the care-free +girl. The other, the civilized, the domestic, +side of her was now dominant. A new desire, +a bigger aspiration, had taken possession of her.</p> +<p>Little by little he realized this change in her, +and was touched with the wonder of it. He had +never had any great self-love either as man or +scholar, and the thought of this fine, self-sufficient +womanly soul centering all its interests +on him was humbling. Each moment his responsibility +deepened, and he heard her voice +but dimly as she went on.</p> +<p>“Of course we are not rich; but we are not +poor, and my mother’s family is one of the oldest +in Kentucky.” She uttered this with a +touch of her mother’s quiet dignity. “Your +father need not despise us.”</p> +<p>“So far as my father is concerned, family don’t +count, and neither does money. But he confidently +expects me to take up his business in +Chicago, and I suppose it is my duty to do so. +If he finds me looking fit he may order me into +the ranks at once.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></p> +<p>“I’ll go there—I’ll do anything you want me +to do,” she urged. “You can tell your father +that I’ll help you in the office. I can learn. +I’m ready to use a typewriter—anything.”</p> +<p>He was silent in the face of her naďve expression +of self-sacrificing love, and after a moment +she added, hesitatingly: “I wish I could +meet your father. Perhaps he’d come up here +if you asked him to do so?”</p> +<p>He seized upon the suggestion. “By George! +I believe he would. I don’t want to go to town. +I just believe I’ll wire him that I’m laid up here +and can’t come.” Then a shade of new trouble +came over his face. How would the stern, +methodical old business man regard this slovenly +ranch and its primitive ways? She felt the question +in his face.</p> +<p>“You’re afraid to have him come,” she said, +with the same disconcerting penetration which +had marked every moment of her interview +thus far. “You’re afraid he wouldn’t like me?”</p> +<p>With almost equal frankness he replied: “No. +I think he’d like <i>you</i>, but this town and the +people up here would gall him. Order is a religion +with him. Then he’s got a vicious slant +against all this conservation business—calls it +tommy-rot. He and your father might lock +horns first crack out of the box. But I’ll risk it. +I’ll wire him at once.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span></p> +<p>A knock at the door interrupted him, and Mrs. +McFarlane’s voice, filled with new excitement, +called out: “Berrie, the District office is on the +wire.”</p> +<p>Berrie opened the door and confronted her +mother, who said: “Mr. Evingham ’phones that +the afternoon papers contain an account of a +fight at Coal City between Settle and one of +Alec Belden’s men, and that the District +Forester is coming down to investigate it.”</p> +<p>“Let him come,” answered Berrie, defiantly. +“He can’t do us any harm. What was the +row about?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t hear much of it. Your father was +at the ’phone.”</p> +<p>McFarlane, with the receiver to his ear, was +saying: “Don’t know a thing about it, Mr. +Evingham. Settle was at the station when I +left. I didn’t know he was going down to Coal +City. No, that’s a mistake. My daughter was +never engaged to Alec Belden. Alec Belden +is the older of the brothers, and is married. I +can’t go into that just now. If you come down +I’ll explain fully.”</p> +<p>He hung up the receiver and slowly turned +toward his wife and daughter. “This sure is +our day of trouble,” he said, with dejected +countenance.</p> +<p>“What is it all about?” asked Berrie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span></p> +<p>“Why, it seems that after I left yesterday +Settle rode down the valley with Belden’s outfit, +and they all got to drinking, ending in a row, +and Tony beat one of Belden’s men almost to +death. The sheriff has gone over to get Tony, +and the Beldens declare they’re going to railroad +him. That means we’ll all be brought into it. +Belden has seized the moment to prefer charges +against me for keeping Settle in the service and +for putting a non-resident on the roll as guard. +The whelp will dig up everything he can to queer +me with the office. All that kept him from doing +it before was Cliff’s interest in you.”</p> +<p>“He can’t make any of his charges stick,” +declared Berrie.</p> +<p>“Of course he can’t. He knows that. But he +can bring us all into court. You and Mr. Norcross +will both be called as witnesses, for it seems +that Tony was defending your name. The +papers call it ‘a fight for a girl.’ Oh, it’s a sweet +mess.”</p> +<p>For the first time Berrie betrayed alarm. +“What shall we do? I can’t go on the stand! +They can’t make me do that, can they?” She +turned to Wayland. “Now you <i>must</i> go away. +It is a shame to have you mixed up in such a +trial.”</p> +<p>“I shall not run away and leave you and the +Supervisor to bear all the burden of this fight.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span></p> +<p>He anticipated in imagination—as they all +did—some of the consequences of this trial. +The entire story of the camping trip would be +dragged in, distorted into a scandal, and flashed +over the country as a disgraceful episode. The +country would ring with laughter and coarse +jest. Berrie’s testimony would be a feast for +court-room loafers.</p> +<p>“There’s only one thing to do,” said McFarlane, +after a few moments of thought. “You +and Berrie and Mrs. McFarlane must get out of +here before you are subpoenaed.”</p> +<p>“And leave you to fight it out alone?” exclaimed +his wife. “I shall do nothing of the +kind. Berrie and Mr. Norcross can go.”</p> +<p>“That won’t do,” retorted McFarlane, quickly. +“That won’t do at all. You must go with +them. I can take care of myself. I will not +have you dragged into this muck-hole. We’ve +got to think quick and act quick. There won’t +be any delay about their side of the game. I +don’t think they’ll do anything to-day; but +you’ve got to fade out of the valley. You all +get ready and I’ll have one of the boys hook up +the surrey as if for a little drive, and you can +pull out over the old stage-road to Flume and +catch the narrow-gage morning train for Denver. +You’ve been wanting for some time to go +down the line. Now here’s a good time to start.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span></p> +<p>Berrie now argued against running away. +Her blood was up. She joined her mother. +“We won’t leave you to inherit all this trouble. +Who will look after the ranch? Who will keep +house for you?”</p> +<p>McFarlane remained firm. “I’ll manage. +Don’t worry about me. Just get out of reach. +The more I consider this thing, the more worrisome +it gets. Suppose Cliff should come back +to testify?”</p> +<p>“He won’t. If he does I’ll have him arrested +for trying to kill Wayland,” retorted Berrie.</p> +<p>“And make the whole thing worse! No. +You are all going to cross the range. You can +start out as if for a little turn round the valley, +and just naturally keep going. It can’t do any +harm, and it may save a nasty time in court.”</p> +<p>“One would think we were a lot of criminals,” +remarked Wayland.</p> +<p>“That’s the way you’ll be treated,” retorted +McFarlane. “Belden has retained old Whitby, +the foulest old brute in the business, and he’ll +bring you all into it if he can.”</p> +<p>“But running away from it will not prevent +talk,” argued his wife.</p> +<p>“Not entirely; but talk and testimony are two +different things. Suppose they call daughter to +the stand? Do you want her cross-examined as +to what basis there was for this gossip? They +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +know something of Cliff’s being let out, and that +will inflame them. He may be at the mill this +minute.”</p> +<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Norcross, sadly. +“Our delightful excursion into the forest has led +us into a predicament from which there is only +one way of escape, and that is flight.”</p> +<p>Back of all this talk, this argument, there remained +still unanswered the most vital, most important +question: “Shall I speak of marriage +at this time? Would it be a source of comfort +to them as well as a joy to her?” At the moment +he was ready to speak, for he felt himself to be +the direct cause of all their embarrassment. +But closer thought made it clear that a hasty +ceremony would only be considered a cloak to +cover something illicit. “I’ll leave it to the +future,” he decided.</p> +<p>McFarlane was again called to the telephone. +Landon, with characteristic brevity, conveyed to +him the fact that Mrs. Belden was at home and +busily ’phoning scandalous stories about the +country. “If you don’t stop her she’s going to +poison every ear in the valley,” ended the ranger.</p> +<p>“You’d think they’d all know my daughter +well enough not to believe anything Mrs. Belden +says,” responded McFarlane, bitterly.</p> +<p>“All the boys are ready to do what Tony did. +But nobody can stop this old fool’s mouth but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +you. Cliff has disappeared, and that adds to +the excitement.”</p> +<p>“Thank the boys for me,” said McFarlane, +“and tell them not to fight. Tell ’em to keep +cool. It will all be cleared up soon.”</p> +<p>As McFarlane went out to order the horses +hooked up, Wayland followed him as far as the +bars. “I’m conscience-smitten over this thing, +Supervisor, for I am aware that I am the cause +of all your trouble.”</p> +<p>“Don’t let that worry you,” responded the +older man. But he spoke with effort. “It can’t +be helped. It was all unavoidable.”</p> +<p>“The most appalling thing to me is the fact +that not even your daughter’s popularity can +neutralize the gossip of a woman like Mrs. Belden. +My being an outsider counts against Berrie, +and I’m ready to do anything—anything,” +he repeated, earnestly. “I love your daughter, +Mr. McFarlane, and I’m ready to marry her at +once if you think best. She’s a noble girl, and +I cannot bear to be the cause of her calumniation.”</p> +<p>There was mist in the Supervisor’s eyes as +he turned them on the young man. “I’m right +glad to hear you say that, my boy.” He reached +out his hand, and Wayland took it. “I knew +you’d say the word when the time came. I +didn’t know how strongly she felt toward you till +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +to-day. I knew she liked you, of course, for she +said so, but I didn’t know that she had plum set +her heart on you. I didn’t expect her to marry +a city man; but—I like you and—well, she’s the +doctor! What suits her suits me. Don’t you +be afraid of her not meeting all comers.” He +went on after a pause, “She’s never seen much +of city life, but she’ll hold her own anywhere, +you can gamble on that.”</p> +<p>“She has wonderful adaptability, I know,” +answered Wayland, slowly. “But I don’t like +to take her away from here—from you.”</p> +<p>“If you hadn’t come she would have married +Cliff—and what kind of a life would she have +led with him?” demanded McFarlane. “I knew +Cliff was rough, but I couldn’t convince her that +he was cheap. I live only for her happiness, my +boy, and, though I know you will take her away +from me, I believe you can make her happy, and +so—I give her over to you. As to time and +place, arrange that—with—her mother.” He +turned and walked away, unable to utter another +word.</p> +<p>Wayland’s throat was aching also, and he went +back into the house with a sense of responsibility +which exalted him into sturdier manhood.</p> +<p>Berea met him in a pretty gown, a dress he +had never seen her wear, a costume which transformed +her into something entirely feminine. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span></p> +<p>She seemed to have put away the self-reliant +manner of the trail, and in its stead presented +the lambent gaze, the tremulous lips of the bride. +As he looked at her thus transfigured his heart +cast out its hesitancy and he entered upon his +new adventure without further question or +regret.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XV_A_MATTER_OF_MILLINERY' id='XV_A_MATTER_OF_MILLINERY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +<h2>XV</h2> +<h3>A MATTER OF MILLINERY</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was three o’clock of a fine, clear, golden +afternoon as they said good-by to McFarlane +and started eastward, as if for a little drive. +Berrie held the reins in spite of Wayland’s protestations. +“These bronchos are only about half +busted,” she said. “They need watching. I +know them better than you do.” Therefore he +submitted, well knowing that she was entirely +competent and fully informed.</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane, while looking back at her +husband, sadly exclaimed: “I feel like a coward +running away like this.”</p> +<p>“Forget it, mother,” commanded her daughter, +cheerily. “Just imagine we’re off for a short +vacation. I’m for going clear through to Chicago. +So long as we <i>must</i> go, let’s go whooping. Father’s +better off without us.”</p> +<p>Her voice was gay, her eyes shining, and Wayland +saw her as she had been that first day in +the coach—the care-free, laughing girl. The +trouble they were fleeing from was less real to +her than the happiness toward which she rode. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></p> +<p>Her hand on the reins, her foot on the brake, +brought back her confidence; but Wayland did +not feel so sure of his part in the adventure. +She seemed so unalterably a part of this life, +so fitted to this landscape, that the thought of +transplanting her to the East brought uneasiness +and question. Could such a creature of the +open air be content with the walls of a city?</p> +<p>For several miles the road ran over the level +floor of the valley, and she urged the team to full +speed. “I don’t want to meet anybody if I +can help it. Once we reach the old stage route +the chances of being scouted are few. Nobody +uses that road since the broad-gauge reached +Cragg’s.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane could not rid herself of the +resentment with which she suffered this enforced +departure; but she had small opportunity to +protest, for the wagon bumped and clattered +over the stony stretches with a motion which +confused as well as silenced her. It was all so +humiliating, so unlike the position which she had +imagined herself to have attained in the eyes of +her neighbors. Furthermore, she was going +away without a trunk, with only one small bag +for herself and Berrie—running away like a +criminal from an intangible foe. However, she +was somewhat comforted by the gaiety of the +young people before her. They were indeed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +jocund as jaybirds. With the resiliency of youth +they had accepted the situation, and were making +the best of it.</p> +<p>“Here comes somebody,” called Berrie, pulling +her ponies to a walk. “Throw a blanket over +that valise.” She was chuckling as if it were all +a good joke. “It’s old Jake Proudfoot. I can +smell him. Now hang on. I’m going to pass +him on the jump.”</p> +<p>Wayland, who was riding with his hat in his +hand because he could not make it cover his +bump, held it up as if to keep the wind from his +face, and so defeated the round-eyed, owl-like +stare of the inquisitive rancher, who brought his +team to a full stop in order to peer after them, +muttering in a stupor of resentment and surprise.</p> +<p>“He’ll worry himself sick over us,” predicted +Berrie. “He’ll wonder where we’re going and +what was under that blanket till the end of summer. +He is as curious as a fool hen.”</p> +<p>A few minutes more and they were at the fork +in the way, and, leaving the trail to Cragg’s, the +girl pulled into the grass-grown, less-traveled +trail to the south, which entered the timber at +this point and began to climb with steady grade. +Letting the reins fall slack, she turned to her +mother with reassuring words. “There! Now +we’re safe. We won’t meet anybody on this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +road except possibly a mover’s outfit. We’re +in the forest again,” she added.</p> +<p>For two hours they crawled slowly upward, +with a roaring stream on one side and the pine-covered +slopes on the other. Jays and camp-birds +called from the trees. Water-robins fluttered +from rock to rock in the foaming flood. +Squirrels and minute chipmunks raced across +the fallen tree-trunks or clattered from great +boulders, and in the peace and order and beauty +of the forest they all recovered a serener outlook +on the noisome tumult they were leaving behind +them. Invisible as well as inaudible, the serpent +of slander lost its terror.</p> +<p>Once, as they paused to rest the horses, Wayland +said: “It is hard to realize that down in +that ethereal valley people like old Jake and Mrs. +Belden have their dwelling-place.”</p> +<p>This moved Mrs. McFarlane to admit that it +might all turn out a blessing in disguise. “Mr. +McFarlane may resign and move to Denver, as +I’ve long wanted him to do.”</p> +<p>“I wish he would,” exclaimed Berrie, fervently. +“It’s time you had a rest. Daddy will +hate to quit under fire, but he’d better do it.”</p> +<p>Peak by peak the Bear Tooth Range rose behind +them, while before them the smooth, grassy +slopes of the pass told that they were nearing +timber-line. The air was chill, the sun was hidden +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +by old Solidor, and the stream had diminished +to a silent rill winding among sear grass +and yellowed willows. The valley behind them +was vague with mist. The southern boundary +of the forest was in sight.</p> +<p>At last the topmost looming crags of the Continental +Divide cut the sky-line, and then in the +smooth hollow between two rounded grassy summits +Berrie halted, and they all silently contemplated +the two worlds. To the west and +north lay an endless spread of mountains, wave +on wave, snow-lined, savage, sullen in the dying +light; while to the east and southeast the foot-hills +faded into the plain, whose dim cities, insubstantial +as flecks in a veil of violet mist, +were hardly distinguishable without the aid of +glasses.</p> +<p>To the girl there was something splendid, +something heroical in that majestic, menacing +landscape to the west. In one of its folds she +had begun her life. In another she had grown +to womanhood and self-confident power. The +rough men, the coarse, ungainly women of that +land seemed less hateful now that she was leaving +them, perhaps forever, and a confused memory +of the many splendid dawns and purple sunsets +she had loved filled her thought.</p> +<p>Wayland, divining some part of what was moving +in her mind, cheerily remarked, “Yes, it’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +a splendid place for a summer vacation, but a +stern place in winter-time, and for a lifelong residence +it is not inspiring.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane agreed with him in this estimate. +“It <i>is</i> terribly lonesome in there at times. +I’ve had enough of it. I’m ready for the comforts +of civilization.”</p> +<p>Berrie turned in her seat, and was about to +take up the reins when Wayland asserted himself. +“Wait a moment. Here’s where my dominion +begins. Here’s where you change seats +with me. I am the driver now.”</p> +<p>She looked at him with questioning, smiling +glance. “Can you drive? It’s all the way +down-hill—and steep?”</p> +<p>“If I can’t I’ll ask your aid. I’m old enough +to remember the family carriage. I’ve even +driven a four-in-hand.”</p> +<p>She surrendered her seat doubtfully, and +smiled to see him take up the reins as if he were +starting a four-horse coach. He proved adequate +and careful, and she was proud of him as, +with foot on the brake and the bronchos well +in hand, he swung down the long looping road +to the railway. She was pleased, too, by his +care of the weary animals, easing them down +the steepest slopes and sending them along on +the comparatively level spots.</p> +<p>Their descent was rapid, but it was long after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +dark before they reached Flume, which lay up +the valley to the right. It was a poor little +decaying mining-town set against the hillside, +and had but one hotel, a sun-warped and sagging +pine building just above the station.</p> +<p>“Not much like the Profile House,” said Wayland, +as he drew up to the porch. “But I see +no choice.”</p> +<p>“There isn’t any,” Berrie assured him.</p> +<p>“Well, now,” he went on, “I am in command +of this expedition. From this on I lead this outfit. +When it comes to hotels, railways, and the +like o’ that, I’m head ranger.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane, tired, hungry, and a little +dismayed, accepted his control gladly; but Berrie +could not at once slip aside her responsibility. +“Tell the hostler—”</p> +<p>“Not a word!” commanded Norcross; and the +girl with a smile submitted to his guidance, and +thereafter his efficiency, his self-possession, his +tact delighted her. He persuaded the sullen +landlady to get them supper. He secured the +best rooms in the house, and arranged for the +care of the team, and when they were all seated +around the dim, fly-specked oil-lamp at the end +of the crumby dining-room table he discovered +such a gay and confident mien that the women +looked at each other in surprise.</p> +<p>Berrie was correspondingly less masculine. In +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +drawing off her buckskin driving-gloves she had +put away the cowgirl, and was silent, a little +sad even, in the midst of her enjoyment of his +dictatorship. And when he said, “If my father +reaches Denver in time I want you to meet him,” +she looked the dismay she felt.</p> +<p>“I’ll do it—but I’m scared of him.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t be. I’ll see him first and draw +his fire.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane interposed. “We must do a +little shopping first. We can’t meet your father +as we are.”</p> +<p>“Very well. I’ll go with you if you’ll let me. +I’m a great little shopper. I have infallible +taste, so my sisters say. If it’s a case of buying +new hats, for instance, I’m the final authority +with them.” This amused Berrie, but her +mother took it seriously.</p> +<p>“Of course, I’m anxious to have my daughter +make the best possible impression.”</p> +<p>“Very well. It is arranged. We get in, I +find, about noon. We’ll go straight to the biggest +shop in town. If we work with speed we’ll +be able to lunch with my father. He’ll be at the +Palmer House at one.”</p> +<p>Berrie said nothing, either in acceptance or +rejection of his plan. Her mind was concerned +with new conceptions, new relationships, and +when in the hall he took her face between his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +hands and said, “Cheer up! All is not lost,” she +put her arms about his neck and laid her cheek +against his breast to hide her tears. “Oh, Wayland! +I’m such an idiot in the city. I’m afraid +your father will despise me.”</p> +<p>What he said was not very cogent, and not in +the least literary, but it was reassuring and lover-like, +and when he turned her over to her mother +she was composed, though unwontedly grave.</p> +<p>She woke to a new life next morning—a life +of compliance, of following, of dependence upon +the judgment of another. She stood in silence +while her lover paid the bills, bought the tickets, +and telegraphed their coming to his father. She +acquiesced when he prevented her mother from +telephoning to the ranch. She complied when +he countermanded her order to have the team +sent back at once. His judgment ruled, and she +enjoyed her sudden freedom from responsibility. +It was novel, and it was very sweet to think that +she was being cared for as she had cared for and +shielded him in the world of the trail.</p> +<p>In the little railway-coach, which held a score +of passengers, she found herself among some +Eastern travelers who had taken the trip up +the Valley of the Flume in the full belief that +they were piercing the heart of the Rocky Mountains! +It amused Wayland almost as much as +it amused Berrie when one man said to his wife: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span></p> +<p>“Well, I’m glad we’ve seen the Rockies.”</p> +<p>“He really believes it!” exclaimed Norcross.</p> +<p>After an hour’s ride Wayland tactfully withdrew, +leaving mother and daughter to discuss +clothes undisturbed by his presence.</p> +<p>“We must look our best, honey,” said Mrs. +McFarlane. “We will go right to Mme. Crosby +at Battle’s, and she’ll fit us out. I wish we had +more time; but we haven’t, so we must do the +best we can.”</p> +<p>“I want Wayland to choose my hat and traveling-suit,” +replied Berrie.</p> +<p>“Of course. But you’ve got to have a lot +of other things besides.” And they bent to the +joyous work of making out a list of goods to be +purchased as soon as they reached Chicago.</p> +<p>Wayland came back with a Denver paper in +his hand and a look of disgust on his face. “It’s +all in here—at least, the outlines of it.”</p> +<p>Berrie took the journal, and there read the +details of Settle’s assault upon the foreman. +“The fight arose from a remark concerning the +Forest Supervisor’s daughter. Ranger Settle resented +the gossip, and fell upon the other man, +beating him with the butt of his revolver. +Friends of the foreman claim that the ranger is +a drunken bully, and should have been discharged +long ago. The Supervisor for some mysterious +reason retains this man, although he is an incompetent. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +It is also claimed that McFarlane put +a man on the roll without examination.” The +Supervisor was the protagonist of the play, +which was plainly political. The attack upon +him was bitter and unjust, and Mrs. McFarlane +again declared her intention of returning to help +him in his fight. However, Wayland again +proved to her that her presence would only embarrass +the Supervisor. “You would not aid +him in the slightest degree. Nash and Landon +are with him, and will refute all these charges.”</p> +<p>This newspaper story took the light out of +their day and the smile from Berrie’s lips, and +the women entered the city silent and distressed +in spite of the efforts of their young guide. The +nearer the girl came to the ordeal of facing the +elder Norcross, the more she feared the outcome; +but Wayland kept his air of easy confidence, and +drove them directly to the shopping center, +believing that under the influence of hats and +gloves they would regain their customary cheer.</p> +<p>In this he was largely justified. They had a +delightful hour trying on millinery and coats and +gloves. The forewoman, who knew Mrs. McFarlane, +gladly accepted her commission, and, while +suspecting the tender relationship between the +girl and the man, she was tactful enough to conceal +her suspicion. “The gentleman is right; +you carry simple things best,” she remarked to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +Berrie, thus showing her own good judgment. +“Smartly tailored gray or blue suits are your +style.”</p> +<p>Silent, blushing, tousled by the hands of her +decorators, Berrie permitted hats to be perched +on her head and jackets buttoned and unbuttoned +about her shoulders till she felt like a worn +clothes-horse. Wayland beamed with delight, +but she was far less satisfied than he; and when +at last selection was made, she still had her +doubts, not of the clothes, but of her ability to +wear them. They seemed so alien to her, so +restrictive and enslaving.</p> +<p>“You’re an easy fitter,” said the saleswoman. +“But”—here she lowered her voice—“you need +a new corset. This old one is out of date. Nobody +is wearing hips now.”</p> +<p>Thereupon Berrie meekly permitted herself to +be led away to a torture-room. Wayland waited +patiently, and when she reappeared all traces of +Bear Tooth Forest had vanished. In a neat +tailored suit and a very “chic” hat, with shoes, +gloves, and stockings to match, she was so transformed, +so charmingly girlish in her self-conscious +glory, that he was tempted to embrace +her in the presence of the saleswoman. But he +didn’t. He merely said: “I see the governor’s +finish! Let’s go to lunch. You are stunning!”</p> +<p>“I don’t know myself,” responded Berrie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +“The only thing that feels natural is my hand. +They cinched me so tight I can’t eat a thing, +and my shoes hurt.” She laughed as she said +this, for her use of the vernacular was conscious. +“I’m a fraud. Your father will spot my brand +first shot. Look at my face—red as a saddle!”</p> +<p>“Don’t let that trouble you. This is the time +of year when tan is fashionable. Don’t you be +afraid of the governor. Just smile at him, give +him your grip, and he’ll melt.”</p> +<p>“I’m the one to melt. I’m beginning now.”</p> +<p>“I know how you feel, but you’ll get used to +the conventional boiler-plate and all the rest of +it. We all groan and growl when we come back +to it each autumn; but it’s a part of being civilized, +and we submit.”</p> +<p>Notwithstanding his confident advice, Wayland +led the two silent and inwardly dismayed +women into the showy café of the hotel with +some degree of personal apprehension concerning +the approaching interview with his father. +Of course, he did not permit this to appear in +the slightest degree. On the contrary, he gaily +ordered a choice lunch, and did his best to keep +his companions from sinking into deeper depression.</p> +<p>It pleased him to observe the admiring glances +which were turned upon Berrie, whose hat became +her mightily, and, leaning over, he said in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +a low voice to Mrs. McFarlane: “Who is the +lovely young lady opposite? Won’t you introduce +me?”</p> +<p>This rejoiced the mother almost as much as +it pleased the daughter, and she answered, “She +looks like one of the Radburns of Lexington, +but I think she’s from Louisville.”</p> +<p>This little play being over, he said, “Now, +while our order is coming I’ll run out to the +desk and see if the governor has come in or not.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVI_THE_PRIVATE_CAR' id='XVI_THE_PRIVATE_CAR'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +<h2>XVI</h2> +<h3>THE PRIVATE CAR</h3> +</div> + +<p>After he went away Berrie turned to her +mother with a look in which humor and +awe were blent. “Am I dreaming, mother, or +am I actually sitting here in the city? My head +is dizzy with it all.” Then, without waiting for +an answer, she fervently added: “Isn’t he fine! +I’m the tenderfoot now. I hope his father won’t +despise me.”</p> +<p>With justifiable pride in her child, the mother +replied: “He can’t help liking you, honey. You +look exactly like your grandmother at this +moment. Meet Mr. Norcross in her spirit.”</p> +<p>“I’ll try; but I feel like a woodchuck out of +his hole.”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane continued: “I’m glad we +were forced out of the valley. You might have +been shut in there all your life as I have been +with your father.”</p> +<p>“You don’t blame father, do you?”</p> +<p>“Not entirely. And yet he always was rather +easy-going, and you know how untidy the ranch +is. He’s always been kindness and sympathy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +itself; but his lack of order is a cross. Perhaps +now he will resign, rent the ranch, and move +over here. I should like to live in the city for +a while, and I’d like to travel a little.”</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t it be fine if you could! You could +live at this hotel if you wanted to. Yes, you’re +right. You need a rest from the ranch and +dish-washing.”</p> +<p>Wayland returned with an increase of tension +in his face.</p> +<p>“He’s here! I’ve sent word saying, ‘I am +lunching in the café with ladies.’ I think he’ll +come round. But don’t be afraid of him. He’s +a good deal rougher on the outside than he is at +heart. Of course, he’s a bluff old business man, +and not at all pretty, and he’ll transfix you with +a kind of estimating glare as if you were a tree; +but he’s actually very easy to manage if you +know how to handle him. Now, I’m not going +to try to explain everything to him at the beginning. +I’m going to introduce him to you in +a casual kind of way and give him time to take +to you both. He forms his likes and dislikes +very quickly.”</p> +<p>“What if he don’t like us?” inquired Berrie, +with troubled brow.</p> +<p>“He can’t help it.” His tone was so positive +that her eyes misted with happiness. “But here +comes our food. I hope you aren’t too nervous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +to eat. Here is where I shine as provider. This +is the kind of camp fare I can recommend.”</p> +<p>Berrie’s healthy appetite rose above her apprehension, +and she ate with the keen enjoyment +of a child, and her mother said, “It surely is +a treat to get a chance at somebody else’s +cooking.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you slander your home fare,” warned +Wayland. “It’s as good as this, only different.”</p> +<p>He sat where he could watch the door, and +despite his jocund pose his eyes expressed growing +impatience and some anxiety. They were +all well into their dessert before he called out: +“Here he is!”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane could not see the new-comer +from where she sat, but Berrie rose in great +excitement as a heavy-set, full-faced man with +short, gray mustache and high, smooth brow +entered the room. He did not smile as he +greeted his son, and his penetrating glance questioned +even before he spoke. He seemed to silently +ask: “Well, what’s all this? How do you +happen to be here? Who are these women?”</p> +<p>Wayland said: “Mrs. McFarlane, this is my +father. Father, this is Miss Berea McFarlane, +of Bear Tooth Springs.”</p> +<p>The elder Norcross shook hands with Mrs. +McFarlane politely, coldly; but he betrayed +surprise as Berea took his fingers in her grip. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +At his son’s solicitation he accepted a seat opposite +Berea, but refused dessert.</p> +<p>Wayland explained: “Mrs. McFarlane and +her daughter quite saved my life over in the +valley. Their ranch is the best health resort +in Colorado.”</p> +<p>“Your complexion indicates that,” his father +responded, dryly. “You look something the +way a man of your age ought to look. I needn’t +ask how you’re feeling.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t, but you may. I’m feeling like +a new fiddle—barring a bruise at the back of my +head, which makes a ‘hard hat’ a burden. I may +as well tell you first off that Mrs. McFarlane +is the wife of the Forest Supervisor at Bear +Tooth, and Miss Berea is the able assistant of +her father. We are all rank conservationists.”</p> +<p>Norcross, Senior, examined Berrie precisely as +if his eyes were a couple of X-ray tubes, and as +she flushed under his slow scrutiny he said: +“I was not expecting to find the Forest Service +in such hands.”</p> +<p>Wayland laughed.</p> +<p>“I hope you didn’t mash his fingers, Berrie.”</p> +<p>She smiled guiltily. “I’m afraid I did. I +hope I didn’t hurt you—sometimes I forget.”</p> +<p>Norcross, Senior, was waking up. “You have +a most extraordinary grip. What did it? Piano +practice?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p> +<p>Wayland grinned. “Piano! No—the cinch.”</p> +<p>“The what?”</p> +<p>Wayland explained. “Miss McFarlane was +brought up on a ranch. She can rope and tie +a steer, saddle her own horse, pack an outfit, and +all the rest of it.”</p> +<p>“Oh! Kind of cowgirl, eh?”</p> +<p>Mrs. McFarlane, eager to put Berrie’s better +part forward, explained: “She’s our only child, +Mr. Norcross, and as such has been a constant +companion to her father. She’s not all cow-hand. +She’s been to school, and she can cook +and sew as well.”</p> +<p>He looked from one to the other. “Neither +of you correspond exactly to my notions of a +forester’s wife and daughter.”</p> +<p>“Mrs. McFarlane comes from an old Kentucky +family, father. Her grandfather helped to found +a college down there.”</p> +<p>Wayland’s anxious desire to create a favorable +impression of the women did not escape the +lumberman, but his face remained quite expressionless +as he replied:</p> +<p>“If the life of a cow-hand would give you the +vigor this young lady appears to possess, I’m +not sure but you’d better stick to it.”</p> +<p>Wayland and the two women exchanged +glances of relief.</p> +<p>“Why not tell him now?” they seemed to ask. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +But he said: “There’s a long story to tell before +we decide on my career. Let’s finish our lunch. +How is mother, and how are the girls?”</p> +<p>Once, in the midst of a lame pursuit of other +topics, the elder Norcross again fixed his eyes +on Berea, saying: “I wish my girls had your +weight and color.” He paused a moment, then +resumed with weary infliction: “Mrs. Norcross +has always been delicate, and all her children—even +her son—take after her. I’ve maintained +a private and very expensive hospital for nearly +thirty years.”</p> +<p>This regretful note in his father’s voice gave +Wayland confidence. His spirits rose.</p> +<p>“Come, let’s adjourn to the parlor and talk +things over at our ease.”</p> +<p>They all followed him, and after showing the +mother and daughter to their seats near a window +he drew his father into a corner, and in +rapid undertone related the story of his first +meeting with Berrie, of his trouble with young +Belden, of his camping trip, minutely describing +the encounter on the mountainside, and ended +by saying, with manly directness: “I would be +up there in the mountains in a box if Berrie had +not intervened. She’s a noble girl, father, and +is foolish enough to like me, and I’m going to +marry her and try to make her happy.”</p> +<p>The old lumberman, who had listened intently +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +all through this impassioned story, displayed no +sign of surprise at its closing declaration; but +his eyes explored his son’s soul with calm abstraction. +“Send her over to me,” he said, at +last. “Marriage is a serious matter. I want to +talk with her—alone.”</p> +<p>Wayland went back to the women with an +air of victory. “He wants to see you, Berrie. +He’s mellowing. Don’t be afraid of him.”</p> +<p>She might have resented the father’s lack of +gallantry; but she did not. On the contrary, +she rose and walked resolutely over to where he +sat, quite ready to defend herself. He did not +rise to meet her, but she did not count that +against him, for there was nothing essentially +rude in his manner. He was merely her elder, +and inert.</p> +<p>“Sit down,” he said, not unkindly. “I want +to have <i>you</i> tell me about my son. He has been +telling me all about you. Now let’s have your +side of the story.”</p> +<p>She took a seat and faced him with eyes as +steady as his own. “Where shall I begin?” she +bluntly challenged.</p> +<p>“He wants to marry you. Now, it seems to +me that seven weeks is very short acquaintance +for a decision like that. Are you sure you want +him?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; I am.” Her answer was most decided. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span></p> +<p>His voice was slightly cynical as he went on. +“But you were tolerably sure about that other +fellow—that rancher with the fancy name—weren’t +you?” She flushed at this, but waited +for him to go on. “Don’t you think it possible +that your fancy for Wayland is also temporary?”</p> +<p>“No, sir!” she bravely declared. “I never felt +toward any one the way I do toward Wayland. +He’s different. I shall <i>never</i> change toward +him.”</p> +<p>Her tone, her expression of eyes stopped this +line of inquiry. He took up another. “Now, +my dear young lady, I am a business man as well +as a father, and the marriage of my son is a +weighty matter. He is my main dependence. +I am hoping to have him take up and carry on +my business. To be quite candid, I didn’t expect +him to select his wife from a Colorado ranch. +I considered him out of the danger-zone. I have +always understood that women were scarce in +the mountains. Now don’t misunderstand me. +I’m not one of those fools who are always trying +to marry their sons and daughters into the ranks +of the idle rich. I don’t care a hang about +social position, and I’ve got money enough for +my son and my son’s wife. But he’s all the boy +I have, and I don’t want him to make a mistake.”</p> +<p>“Neither do I,” she answered, simply, her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +eyes suffused with tears. “If I thought he would +be sorry—”</p> +<p>He interrupted again. “Oh, you can’t tell +that now. Any marriage is a risk. I don’t say +he’s making a mistake in selecting you. You +may be just the woman he needs. Only I want +to be consulted. I want to know more about +you. He tells me you have taken an active +part in the management of the ranch and the +forest. Is that true?”</p> +<p>“I’ve always worked with my father—yes, +sir.”</p> +<p>“You like that kind of life?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know much about any other kind. +Yes, I like it. But I’ve had enough of it. I’m +willing to change.”</p> +<p>“Well, how about city life—housekeeping and +all that?”</p> +<p>“So long as I am with Wayland I sha‘n’t +mind what I do or where I live.”</p> +<p>“At the same time you figure he’s going to +have a large income, I suppose? He’s told you +of his rich father, hasn’t he?”</p> +<p>Berrie’s tone was a shade resentful of his insinuation. +“He has never said much about his +family one way or another. He only said you +wanted him to go into business in Chicago, and +that he wanted to do something else. Of course, +I could see by his ways and the clothes he wore +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +that he’d been brought up in what we’d call +luxury, but we never inquired into his affairs.”</p> +<p>“And you didn’t care?”</p> +<p>“Well, not that, exactly. But money don’t +count for as much with us in the valley as it +does in the East. Wayland seemed so kind of +sick and lonesome, and I felt sorry for him the +first time I saw him. I felt like mothering him. +And then his way of talking, of looking at things +was so new and beautiful to me I couldn’t help +caring for him. I had never met any one like +him. I thought he was a ‘lunger’—”</p> +<p>“A what?”</p> +<p>“A consumptive; that is, I did at first. And +it bothered me. It seemed terrible that any +one so fine should be condemned like that—and +so—I did all I could to help him, to make him +happy. I thought he hadn’t long to live. +Everything he said and did was wonderful to +me, like poetry and music. And then when he +began to grow stronger and I saw that he was +going to get well, and Cliff went on the rampage +and showed the yellow streak, and I gave him +back his ring—I didn’t know even then how +much Wayland meant to me. But on our trip +over the Range I understood. He meant everything +to me. He made Cliff seem like a savage, +and I wanted him to know it. I’m not ashamed +of loving him. I want to make him happy, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +if he wishes me to be his wife I’ll go anywhere +he says—only I think he should stay out here +till he gets entirely well.”</p> +<p>The old man’s eyes softened during her plea, +and at its close a slight smile moved the corners +of his mouth. “You’ve thought it all out, I see. +Your mind is clear and your conscience easy. +Well, I like your spirit. I guess he’s right. The +decision is up to you. But if he takes you and +stays in Colorado he can’t expect me to share +the profits of my business with him, can he? +He’ll have to make his own way.” He rose and +held out his hand. “However, I’m persuaded +he’s in good hands.”</p> +<p>She took his hand, not knowing just what to +reply. He examined her fingers with intent +gaze.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know any woman could have such +a grip.” He thoughtfully took her biceps in his +left hand. “You are magnificent.” Then, in +ironical protest, he added: “Good God, no! I +can’t have you come into my family. You’d +make caricatures of my wife and daughters. +Are all the girls out in the valley like you?”</p> +<p>She laughed. “No. Most of them pride +themselves on <i>not</i> being horsewomen. Mighty +few of ’em ever ride a horse. I’m a kind of a +tomboy to them.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s the same old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +story. I suppose they’d all like to live in the +city and wear low-necked gowns and high-heeled +shoes. No, I can’t consent to your marriage +with my son. I must save you from corruption. +Go back to the ranch. I can see +already signs of your deterioration. Except for +your color and that grip you already look like +upper Broadway. The next thing will be a slit +skirt and a diamond garter.”</p> +<p>She flushed redly, conscious of her new corset, +her silk stockings, and her pinching shoes. “It’s +all on the outside,” she declared. “Under this +toggery I’m the same old trailer. It don’t take +long to get rid of these things. I’m just playing +a part to-day—for you.”</p> +<p>He smiled and dropped her hand. “No, no. +You’ve said good-by to the cinch, I can see that. +You’re on the road to opera boxes and limousines. +What is your plan? What would you advise +Wayland to do if you knew I was hard against +his marrying you? Come, now, I can see you’re +a clear-sighted individual. What can he do +to earn a living? How will you live without +my aid? Have you figured on these +things?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I’m going to ask my father to buy a +ranch near here, where mother can have more +of the comforts of life, and where we can all +live together till Wayland is able to stand city +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +life again. Then, if you want him to go East, +I will go with him.”</p> +<p>They had moved slowly back toward the +others, and as Wayland came to meet them +Norcross said, with dry humor: “I admire your +lady of the cinch hand. She seems to be a person +of singular good nature and most uncommon +shrewd—”</p> +<p>Wayland, interrupting, caught at his father’s +hand and wrung it frenziedly. “I’m glad—”</p> +<p>“Here! Here!” A look of pain covered the +father’s face. “That’s the fist she put in the +press.”</p> +<p>They all laughed at his joke, and then he +gravely resumed. “I say I admire her, but it’s +a shame to ask such a girl to marry an invalid +like you. Furthermore, I won’t have her taken +East. She’d bleach out and lose that grip in a +year. I won’t have her contaminated by the +city.” He mused deeply while looking at his +son. “Would life on a wheat-ranch accessible +to this hotel by motor-car be endurable to you?”</p> +<p>“You mean with Berea?”</p> +<p>“If she’ll go. Mind you, I don’t advise her +to do it!” he added, interrupting his son’s outcry. +“I think she’s taking all the chances.” +He turned to Mrs. McFarlane. “I’m old-fashioned +in my notions of marriage, Mrs. +McFarlane. I grew up when women were helpmates, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +such as, I judge, you’ve been. Of course, +it’s all guesswork to me at the moment; but I +have an impression that my son has fallen into +an unusual run of luck. As I understand it, +you’re all out for a pleasure trip. Now, my +private car is over in the yards, and I suggest +you all come along with me to California—”</p> +<p>“Governor, you’re a wonder!” exclaimed Wayland.</p> +<p>“That’ll give us time to get better acquainted, +and if we all like one another just as well when +we get back—well, we’ll buy the best farm in +the North Platte and—”</p> +<p>“It’s a cinch we get that ranch,” interrupted +Wayland, with a triumphant glance at Berea.</p> +<p>“Don’t be so sure of it!” replied the lumberman. +“A private car, like a yacht, is a terrible +test of friendship.” But his warning held no +terrors for the young lovers. They had entered +upon certainties.</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>THE END</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.18 --> +<!-- timestamp: Fri Aug 08 16:55:48 -0600 2008 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Forester's Daughter, by Hamlin Garland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORESTER'S DAUGHTER *** + +***** This file should be named 26239-h.htm or 26239-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/2/3/26239/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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