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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/33877-8.txt b/33877-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..09766c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/33877-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6856 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Voice of the Pack, by Edison Marshall + +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 Voice of the Pack + +Author: Edison Marshall + +Release Date: October 20, 2010 [EBook #33877] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE OF THE PACK *** + + + + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE VOICE OF THE PACK + + By EDISON MARSHALL + + + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + Publishers New York + + Published by arrangement with Little, Brown, and Company + + _Copyright, 1920_, + By Little, Brown, and Company. + + _All rights reserved_ + + Published, April, 1920 + Reprinted, May, 1920 + + TO MY FATHER + GEORGE EDWARD MARSHALL + OF MEDFORD, OREGON + HIMSELF A SON OF FRONTIERSMEN + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PROLOGUE + +BOOK ONE--REPATRIATION + +BOOK TWO--THE DEBT + +BOOK THREE--THE PAYMENT + + + + +THE VOICE OF THE PACK + + + + +PROLOGUE + + If one can just lie close enough to the breast of the + wilderness, he can't help but be imbued with some of the life + that pulses therein.--_From a Frontiersman's Diary_. + + +Long ago, when the great city of Gitcheapolis was a rather small, untidy +hamlet in the middle of a plain, it used to be that a pool of water, +possibly two hundred feet square, gathered every spring immediately back +of the courthouse. The snow falls thick and heavy in Gitcheapolis in +winter; and the pond was nothing more than snow water that the +inefficient drainage system of the city did not quite absorb. Now snow +water is occasionally the most limpid, melted-crystal thing in the +world. There are places just two thousand miles west of Gitcheapolis +where you can see it pouring pure and fresh off of the snow fields, +scouring out a ravine from the great rock wall of a mountain side, +leaping faster than a deer leaps--and when you speak of the speed of a +descending deer you speak of something the usual mortal eye can +scarcely follow--from cataract to cataract; and the sight is always a +pleasing one to behold. Incidentally, these same snow streams are quite +often simply swarming with trout,--brook and cutthroat, steelhead and +even those speckled fellows that fishermen call Dolly Vardens for some +reason that no one has ever quite been able to make out. They are to be +found in every ripple, and they bite at a fly as if they were going to +crush the steel hook into dust between their teeth, and the cold water +gives them spirit to fight until the last breath of strength is gone +from their beautiful bodies. How they came there, and what their purpose +is in ever climbing up the river that leads nowhere but to a snow bank, +no one exactly knows. + +The snow water back of the courthouse was not like this at all. Besides +being the despair of the plumbers and the city engineer, it was a severe +strain on the beauty-loving instincts of every inhabitant in the town +who had any such instincts. It was muddy and murky and generally +distasteful; and lastly, there were no trout in it. Neither were there +any mud cat such as were occasionally to be caught in the Gitcheapolis +River. + +A little boy played at the edge of the water, this spring day of long +ago. Except for his interest in the pond, it would have been scarcely +worth while to go to the trouble of explaining that it contained no +fish. He, however, bitterly regretted the fact. In truth, he sometimes +liked to believe that it did contain fish, very sleepy fish that never +made a ripple, and as he had an uncommon imagination he was sometimes +able to convince himself that this was so. But he never took hook and +line and played at fishing. He was too much afraid of the laughter of +his boy friends. His mother probably wouldn't object if he fished here, +he thought, particularly if he were careful not to get his shoes covered +with mud. But she wouldn't let him go down to Gitcheapolis Creek to fish +with the other boys for mud cat. He was not very strong, she thought, +and it was a rough sport anyway, and besides,--she didn't think he +wanted to go very badly. As mothers are usually particularly +understanding, this was a curious thing. + +The truth was that little Dan Failing wanted to fish almost as much as +he wanted to live. He would dream about it of nights. His blood would +glow with the thought of it in the spring-time. Women the world over +will have a hard time believing what an intense, heart-devouring passion +the love of the chase can be, whether it is for fishing or hunting or +merely knocking golf balls into a little hole upon a green. Sometimes +they don't remember that this instinct is just as much a part of most +men, and thus most boys, as their hands or their lips. It was acquired +by just as laborious a process,--the lives of uncounted thousands of +ancestors who fished and hunted for a living. + +It was true that little Dan didn't look the part. Even then he showed +signs of physical frailty. His eyes looked rather large, and his cheeks +were not the color of fresh sirloin as they should have been. In fact, +one would have had to look very hard to see any color in them at all. +These facts are interesting from the light they throw upon the next +glimpse of Dan, fully twenty years later. + +This story isn't about the pool of snow water; it is only partly about +Gitcheapolis. "Gitche" means great in the Indian language, and every one +knows what "apolis" means. There are a dozen cities in the +middle-western part of the United States just like it--with Indian +names, with muddy, snow-water pools, with slow rivers in which only mud +cat live--utterly surrounded by endless fields that slope levelly and +evenly to a drab horizon. And because that land is what it is, because +there are such cities as Gitcheapolis, there has sprung up in this +decade a far-seeing breed of men. They couldn't help but learn to see +far, on such prairies. And, like little Dan by the pool, they did all +their hunting and their fishing and exercised many of the instincts that +a thousand generations of wild men had instilled in them, in their +dreams alone. It was great exercise for the imagination. And perhaps +that has had something to do with the size of the crop of writers and +poets and artists that is now being harvested in the Middle West. + +Except for the fact that it was the background for the earliest picture +of little Dan, the pool back of the courthouse has very little +importance in his story. It did, however, afford an illustration to him +of one of the really astonishing truths of life. He saw a shadow in the +water that he pretended he thought might be a fish. He threw a stone at +it. + +The only thing that happened was a splash, and then a slowly widening +ripple. The circumference of the ripple grew ever larger, extended and +widened, and finally died at the edge of the shore. It set little Dan to +thinking. He wondered if, had the pool been larger, the ripple still +would have spread; and if the pool had been eternity, whether the ripple +would have gone on forever. At the time he did not know the laws of +cause and effect. Later, when Gitcheapolis was great and prosperous and +no longer untidy, he was going to find out that a cause is nothing but a +rock thrown into a pond of infinity, and the ripple that is its effect +keeps growing and growing forever. + +It is a very old theme, but the astonishment it creates is always new. A +man once figured out that if Clovis had spared one life that he +took--say that of the under-chief whose skull he shattered to pay him +for breaking the vase of Soissons--there would be to-day the same races +but an entirely different set of individuals. The effect would grow and +grow as the years passed. The man's progeny each in turn would leave his +mark upon the world, and the result would be--too vast to contemplate. +The little incident that is the real beginning of this story was of no +more importance than a pebble thrown into the snow-water pond; but its +effect was to remove the life of Dan Failing, since grown up, far out of +the realms of the ordinary. + +And that brings all matters down to 1919, in the last days of a +particularly sleepy summer. You would hardly know Gitcheapolis now. It +is true that the snows still fall deep in winter, but the city engineer +has finally solved the problem of the pool back of the courthouse. In +fact, the courthouse itself is gone, and rebuilt in a more pretentious +section of the city. The business district has increased tenfold. And +the place where used to be the pool and the playground of Dan Failing is +now laid off in as green and pretty a city park as one could wish to +see. + +The evidence points to the conclusion that the story some of the oldest +settlers told about this district was really so. They say that forty and +fifty and maybe seventy-five years ago, the quarter-section where the +park was laid out was a green little glade, with a real, natural lake in +the center. Later the lake was drained to raise corn, and the fish +therein--many of them such noble fish as perch and bass--all died in the +sun-baked mud. The pool that had gathered yearly was just the lake +trying, like a spent prize fighter, to come back. And it is rather +singular that buildings have been torn down and money has been spent to +restore the little glade to its original charm; and now construction has +been started to build an artificial lake in the center. One would be +inclined to wonder why things weren't kept the way they were in the +first place. But that is the way of cities. + +Some day, when the city becomes more prosperous, a pair of swans and a +herd of deer are going to be introduced, to restore some of the natural +wild life of the park. But in the summer of 1919, a few small birds and +possibly half a dozen pairs of squirrels were the extent and limit of +the wild creatures. And at the moment this story opens, one of these +squirrels was perched on a wide-spreading limb over-arching a gravel +path that slanted through the sunlit park. The squirrel was hungry. He +wished that some one would come along with a nut. + +There was a bench beneath the tree. If there had not been, the life of +Dan Failing would have been entirely different. In fact, as the events +will show, there wouldn't have been any life worth talking about at all. +If the squirrel had been on any other tree, if he hadn't been hungry, if +any one of a dozen other things hadn't been as they were, Dan Failing +would have never gone back to the land of his people. The little +bushy-tailed fellow on the tree limb was the squirrel of Destiny! + + + + +BOOK ONE + +REPATRIATION + + + + +I + + +Dan Failing stepped out of the elevator and was at once absorbed in the +crowd that ever surged up and down Broad Street. Where the crowd came +from, or what it was doing, or where it was going was one of the +mysteries of Gitcheapolis. It appealed to a person rather as does a +river: eternal, infinite, having no control over its direction or +movement, but only subject to vast, underlying natural laws. In this +case, the laws were neither gravity nor cohesion, but rather unnamed +laws that go clear back to the struggle for existence and +self-preservation. Once in the crowd, Failing surrendered up all +individuality. He was just one of the ordinary drops of water, not an +interesting, elaborate, physical and chemical combination to be studied +on the slide of a microscope. No one glanced at him in particular. He +was enough like the other drops of water not to attract attention. He +wore fairly passable clothes, neither rich nor shabby. He was a tall +man, but gave no impression of strength because of the exceeding +spareness of his frame. As long as he remained in the crowd, he wasn't +important enough to be studied. But soon he turned off, through the +park, and straightway found himself alone. + +The noise and bustle of the crowd--never loud or startling, but so +continuous that the senses are scarcely more aware of them than of the +beating of one's own heart--suddenly and utterly died almost at the very +border of the park. It was as if an ax had chopped them off, and left +the silence of the wild place. The gravel path that slanted through the +green lawns did not lead anywhere in particular. It made a big loop and +came out almost where it went in. Perhaps that is the reason that the +busy crowds did not launch forth upon it. Crowds, like electricity, take +the shortest course. Moreover, the hour was still some distance from +noon, and the afternoon pleasure seekers had not yet come. But the +morning had advanced far enough so that all the old castaways that had +slept in the park had departed. Dan had the path all to himself. + +Although he had plenty of other things to think about, the phenomena of +the sudden silence came home to him very straight indeed. The noise from +the street seemed wholly unable to penetrate the thick branches of the +trees. He could even hear the leaves whisking and flicking together, +and when a man can discern this, he can hear the cushions of a mountain +lion on a trail at night. Of course Dan Failing had never heard a +mountain lion. Except on the railroad tracks between, he had never +really been away from cities in his life. + +At once his thought went back to the doctor's words. Dan had a very +retentive memory, as well as an extra fine imagination. The two always +seem to go together. The words were still repeating themselves over and +over in his ears, and the doctor's face was still before his eyes. It +had been a kind face; the lips had even curled in a little smile of +encouragement. But the doctor had been perfectly frank, entirely +straightforward. Dan was glad that he had. At least, he was rid of the +dreadful uncertainty. There had been no evasion in his verdict. + +"I've made every test," he said. "They're pretty well shot. Of course, +you can go to some sanitarium, if you've got the money. If you +haven't--enjoy yourself all you can for about six months." + +Dan's voice had been perfectly cool and sure when he replied. He had +smiled a little, too. He was still rather proud of that smile. "Six +months? Isn't that rather short?" + +"Maybe a whole lot shorter. I think that's the limit." + +There was the situation: Dan Failing had but six months to live. Of +course, the doctor said, if he had the money he could go to a +sanitarium. But he had spoken entirely hopelessly. Besides, Dan didn't +have the money. He pushed all thought of sanitariums out of his mind. +Instead, he began to wonder whether his mother had been entirely wise in +her effort to keep him from the "rough games" of the boys of his own +age. He realized now that he had been an under-weight all his +life,--that the frailty that had thrust him to the edge of the grave had +begun in his earliest boyhood. But it wasn't that he was born with +physical handicaps. He had weighed a full ten pounds; and the doctor had +told his father that a sturdier little chap was not to be found in any +maternity bed in the whole city. But his mother was convinced that the +child was delicate and must be sheltered. Never in all the history of +his family, so far as Dan knew, had there been a death from the malady +that afflicted him. Yet his sentence was signed and sealed. + +But he harbored no resentment against his mother. It was all in the +game. She had done what she thought was best. And he began to wonder in +what way he could get the greatest pleasure from his last six months of +life. + +"Good Lord!" he suddenly breathed. "I may not even be here to see the +snows come!" Perhaps there was a grim note in his voice. There was +certainly no tragedy, no offensive sentimentality. He was looking the +matter in the face. But it was true that Dan had always been partial to +the winter season. When the snow lay all over the farmlands and bowed +down the limbs of the trees, it had always wakened a curious flood of +feelings in the wasted man. It seemed to him that he could remember +other winters, wherein the snow lay for endless miles over an endless +wilderness, and here and there were strange, many-toed tracks that could +be followed in the icy dawns. He didn't ever know just what made the +tracks, except that they were creatures of fang and talon that no law +had ever tamed. But of course it was just a fancy. He wasn't in the +least misled about it. He knew that he had never, in his lifetime, seen +the wilderness. Of course his grandfather had been a frontiersman of the +first order, and all his ancestors before him--a rangy, hardy breed +whose wings would crumple in civilization--but he himself had always +lived in cities. Yet the falling snows, soft and gentle but with a kind +of remorselessness he could sense but could not understand, had always +stirred him. He'd often imagined that he would like to see the forests +in winter. He knew something about forests. He had gone one year to +college and had studied all the forestry that the university heads would +let him take. Later he had read endless books on the same subject. But +the knowledge had never done him any good. Except for a few boyish +dreams, he never imagined that it would. + +In him you could see a reflection of the boy that played beside the pond +of snow water, twenty years before. His dark gray eyes were still rather +large and perhaps the wasted flesh around them made them seem larger +than they were. But it was a little hard to see them, as he wore large +glasses. His mother had been sure, years before, that he needed glasses; +and she had easily found an oculist that agreed with her. + +Now that he was alone on the path, the utter absence of color in his +cheeks was startling. That meant the absence of red,--that warm glow of +the blood, eager and alive in his veins. There was, indeed, another +color, visible only because of the stark whiteness of his skin. He was +newly shaven, and his lips and chin looked somewhat blue from the heavy +growth of hair under the skin. Perhaps an observer would have noticed +lean hands, with big-knuckled fingers, a rather firm mouth, and closely +cropped dark hair. He was twenty-nine years of age, but he looked +somewhat older. He knew now that he was never going to be any older. A +doctor as sure of himself as the one he had just consulted couldn't +possibly be mistaken. + +It was rather refreshing to get into the park. Dan could think ever so +much more clearly. He never could think in a crowd. Someway, the +hurrying people always seemed to bewilder him. Here the leaves were +flicking and rustling over his head, and the shadows made a curious +patchwork on the green lawns. He became quite calm and reflective. And +then he sat down on a park bench, just beneath the spreading limb of a +great tree. He would sit here, he thought, until he finally decided what +he would do with his remaining six months. + +He hadn't been able to go to war. The recruiting officer had been very +kind but most determined. The boys had brought him great tales of +France. It might be nice to go to France and live in some country inn +until he died. But he didn't have very long to think upon this vein. For +at that instant the squirrel came down to see if he had a nut. + +It was the squirrel of Destiny. But Dan didn't know it then. + +Now it is true that it takes more than one generation for any wild +creature to get completely away from its natural timidity. Quite often a +person is met who has taken quail eggs from a nest and hatched them +beneath the warm body of a domestic hen. Just what is the value of such +a proceeding is rather hard to explain, as quail have neither the +instincts nor the training to enjoy life in a barnyard. Yet occasionally +it is done, and the little quail spend most of their days running +frantically up and down the coop, yearning for the wild, free spaces for +which they were created. But they haven't, as a rule, many days to spend +in this manner. Mostly they run until they die. + +The rule is said to work both ways. A tame canary, freed, will usually +try to return to his cage. And this is known to be true of human beings +just as of the wild creatures. There are certain breeds of men, used to +the far-lying hills, who, if inclosed in cities, run up and down them +until they die. The Indians, for instance, haven't ever been able to +adjust themselves to civilization. There are several thousand of them +now where once were millions. + +Bushy-tail was not particularly afraid of the human beings that passed +up and down the park, because he had learned by experience that they +usually attempted no harm to him. But, nevertheless, he had his +instincts. He didn't entirely trust them. Occasionally a child would +come with a bag of nuts, and he would sit on the grass not a dozen feet +away to gather such as were thrown to him. But all the time he kept one +sharp eye open for any sudden or dangerous motions. And every instinct +warned him against coming nearer than a dozen feet. After several +generations, probably the squirrels of this park would climb all over +its visitors and sniff in their ears and investigate the back of their +necks. But this wasn't the way of Bushy-tail. He had come too recently +from the wild places. And he wondered, most intensely, whether this +tall, forked creature had a pocket full of nuts. He swung down on the +grass to see. + +"Why, you little devil!" Dan said in a whisper. His eyes suddenly +sparkled with delight. And he forgot all about the doctor's words and +his own prospects in his bitter regrets that he had not brought a +pocketful of nuts. Unfortunately, he had never acquired the peanut +habit. His mother had always thought it vulgar. + +And then Dan did a curious thing. Even later, he didn't know why he did +it, or what gave him the idea that he could decoy the squirrel up to +him by doing it. That was his only purpose,--just to see how close the +squirrel would come to him. He thought he would like to look into the +bright eyes at close range. All he did was suddenly to freeze into one +position,--in an instant rendered as motionless as the rather +questionable-looking stone stork that was perched on the fountain. + +He didn't know it, at the time, but it was a most meritorious piece of +work. The truth was that he was acting solely by instinct. Men who have +lived long in the wilderness learn a very important secret in dealing +with wild animals. They know, in the first place, that intimacy with +them is solely a matter of sitting still and making no sudden motions. +It is motion, not shape, that frightens them. If a hunter is among a +herd of deer and wishes to pick the bucks off, one by one, he simply +sits still, moving his rifle with infinite caution, and the animal +intelligence does not extend far enough to interpret him as an enemy. +Instead of being afraid, the deer are usually only curious. + +Dan simply sat still. The squirrel was very close to him, and Dan seemed +to know by instinct that the movement of a single muscle would give him +away. So he sat as if he were posing before a photographer's camera. +The fact that he was able to do it is in itself important. It is +considerably easier to exercise with dumb-bells for five minutes than to +sit absolutely without motion for the same length of time. Hunters and +naturalists acquire the art with training. It was therefore rather +curious that Dan succeeded so well the first time he tried it. He had +sense enough to relax first, before he froze. Thus he didn't put such a +severe strain on his muscles. And this was another bit of wisdom that in +a tenderfoot would have caused much wonder in certain hairy old hunters +in the West. + +The squirrel, after ten seconds had elapsed, stood on his haunches to +see better. First he looked a long time with his left eye. Then he +turned his head and looked very carefully with his right. Then he backed +off a short distance and tried to get a focus with both. Then he came +some half-dozen steps nearer. + +A moment before he had been certain that a living creature--in fact one +of the most terrible and powerful living creatures in the world--had +been sitting on the park bench. Now his poor little brain was completely +addled. He was entirely ready to believe that his eyes had deceived him. + +All the time, Dan was sitting in perfectly plain sight. It wasn't as if +he were hiding. But the squirrel had learned to judge all life by its +motion alone, and he was completely at a loss to interpret or understand +a motionless figure. + +Bushy-tail drew off a little further, fully convinced at last that his +hopes of a nut from a child's hand were blasted. But he turned to look +once more. The figure still sat utterly inert. And all at once he forgot +his devouring hunger in the face of an overwhelming curiosity. + +He came somewhat nearer and looked a long time. Then he made a +half-circle about the bench, turning his head as he moved. He was more +puzzled than ever, but he was no longer afraid. His curiosity had become +so intense that no room for fear was left. And then he sprang upon the +park bench. + +Dan moved then. The movement consisted of a sudden heightening of the +light in his eyes. But the squirrel didn't see it. It takes a muscular +response to be visible to the eyes of the wild things. + +The squirrel crept slowly along the bench, stopping to sniff, stopping +to stare with one eye and another, just devoured from head to tail with +curiosity. And then he leaped on Dan's knee. + +He was quite convinced, by now, that this warm perch on which he stood +was the most singular and interesting object of his young life. It was +true that he was faintly worried by the smell that reached his nostrils. +But all it really did was further to incite his curiosity. He followed +the leg up to the hip and then perched on the elbow. And an instant more +he was poking a cold nose into Dan's neck. + +But if the squirrel was excited by all these developments, its amazement +was nothing compared to Dan's. It had been the most astounding incident +in the man's life. He sat still, tingling with delight. And in a single +flash of inspiration he knew he had come among his own people at last. + +The creatures of the wild,--they were the folk he had always secretly +loved and instinctively understood. His ancestors, for literally +generations, had been frontiersmen and outdoor naturalists who never +wrote books. Was it possible that they had bequeathed to him an +understanding and love of the wild that most men did not have? But +before he had time to meditate on this question, an idea seemed to pop +and flame like a Roman candle in his brain. He knew where he would spend +his last six months of life. + +His own grandfather had been a hunter and trapper and frontiersman in a +certain vast but little known Oregon forest. His son had moved to the +Eastern cities, but in Dan's garret there used to be old mementoes and +curios from these savage days,--a few claws and teeth, and a fragment of +an old diary. The call had come to him at last. Tenderfoot though he +was, Dan would go back to those forests, to spend his last six months of +life among the wild creatures that made them their home. + + + + +II + + +The dinner hour found Dan Failing in the public library of Gitcheapolis, +asking the girl who sat behind the desk if he might look at maps of +Oregon. He got out the whole question without coughing once, but in +spite of it she felt that he ought to be asking for California or +Arizona maps, rather than Oregon. People did not usually go to Oregon to +rid themselves of his malady. A librarian, as a rule, is a wonderfully +well-informed person; but her mental picture of Oregon was simply one +large rainstorm. She remembered that she used to believe that Oregon +people actually grew webs between their toes, and the place was thus +known as the Webfoot State. She didn't know that Oregon has almost as +many climates as the whole of nature has in stock,--snow in the east, +rain in the north, winds in the west, and sunshine in the south, with +all the grades between. There are certain sections where in midwinter +all hunters who do not particularly care to sink over their heads in +the level snow walk exclusively on snowshoes. There are others, not one +hundred miles distant, where any kind of snowstorm is as rare a +phenomenon as the seventeen-year locusts. Distances are rather vasty in +the West. For instance, the map that Dan Failing looked at did not seem +much larger than the map, say, of Maryland. Figures showed, however, +that at least two counties of Oregon were each as large as the whole +area of the former State. + +He remembered that his grandfather had lived in Southern Oregon. He +looked along the bottom of his map and discovered a whole empire, +ranging from gigantic sage plains to the east to dense forests along the +Pacific Ocean. Those sage flats, by the way, contain not only sage hens +as thick as poultry in a hen-yard and jack rabbits of a particularly +long-legged and hardy breed, but also America's one species of antelope. +Had Dan known that this was true, had he only been aware that these +antelope are without exception the fastest-running creatures upon the +face of the earth, he might have been tempted to go there instead of to +the land of his fathers. But all he saw on the map was a large brown +space marked at exceedingly long intervals with the name of a fort or +town. He began to search for Linkville. + +Time was when Linkville was one of the principal towns of Oregon. Dan +remembered the place because some of the time-yellowed letters his +grandfather had sent him had been mailed at a town that bore this name. +But he couldn't find Linkville on the map. Later he was to know the +reason,--that the town, halfway between the sage plains and the +mountains, had prospered and changed its name. He remembered that it was +located on one of those great fresh-water lakes of Southern Oregon; so, +giving up that search, he began to look for lakes. He found them in +plenty,--vast, unmeasured lakes that seemed to be distributed without +reason or sense over the whole southern end of the State. Near the +Klamath Lakes, seemingly the most imposing of all the fresh-water lakes +that the map revealed, he found a city named Klamath Falls. He put the +name down in his notebook. + +The map showed a particularly high, far-spreading range of mountains due +west of the city. Of course they were the Cascades; the map said so very +plainly. Then Dan knew he was getting home. His grandfather had lived +and trapped and died in these same wooded hills. Finally he located and +recorded the name of the largest city on the main railroad line that was +adjacent to the Cascades. + +The preparation for his departure took many days. He read many books on +flora and fauna. He bought sporting equipment. Knowing the usual ratio +between the respective pleasures of anticipation and realization, he did +not hurry himself at all. And one midnight he boarded a west-bound +train. + +There were none that he cared about bidding good-by. The sudden +realization of the fact brought a moment's wonder. He had not realized +that he had led such a lonely existence. There were men who were fitted +for living in cities, but perhaps he was not one of them. He saw the +station lights grow dim as the train pulled out. Soon he could discern +just a spark, here and there, from the city's outlying homes. And not +long after this, the silence and darkness of the farm lands closed down +upon the train. + +He sat for a long time in the vestibule of the sleeping car, thinking in +anticipation of this final adventure of his life. It is true that he had +not experienced many adventures. He had lived most of them in +imagination alone; or else, with tired eyes, he had read of the exploits +of other men. He was rather tremulous and exultant as he sank down into +his berth. + +He saw to it that at least a measure of preparation was made for his +coming. That night a long wire went out to the Chamber of Commerce of +one of the larger Southern Oregon cities. In it, he told the date of his +arrival and asked certain directions. He wanted to know the name of some +mountain rancher where possibly he might find board and room for the +remainder of the summer and the fall. He wanted shooting, and he +particularly cared to be near a river where trout might be found. They +never came up Gitcheapolis River, or leaped for flies in the pond back +of the courthouse. The further back from the paths of men, he wrote, the +greater would be his pleasure. And he signed the wire with his full +name: Dan Failing with a Henry in the middle, and a "III" at the end. + +He usually didn't sign his name in quite this manner. The people of +Gitcheapolis did not have particularly vivid memories of Dan's +grandfather. But it might be that a legend of the gray, straight +frontiersman who was his ancestor had still survived in these remote +Oregon wilds. The use of the full name would do no harm. + +Instead of hurting, it was a positive inspiration. The Chamber of +Commerce of the busy little Oregon city was not usually exceptionally +interested in stray hunters that wanted a boarding place for the summer. +Its business was finding country homes for orchardists in the pleasant +river valleys. But it happened that the recipient of the wire was one of +the oldest residents, a frontiersman himself, and it was one of the +traditions of the Old West that friendships were not soon forgotten. Dan +Failing I had been a legend in the old trapping and shooting days when +this man was young. So it came about that when Dan's train stopped at +Cheyenne, he found a telegram waiting him: + + "Any relation to Dan Failing of the Umpqua Divide?" + +Dan had never heard of the Umpqua Divide, but he couldn't doubt but that +the sender of the wire referred to his grandfather. He wired in the +affirmative. The head of the Chamber of Commerce received the wire, read +it, thrust it into his desk, and in the face of a really important piece +of business proceeded to forget all about it. Thus it came about that, +except for one thing, Dan Failing would have probably stepped off the +train at his destination wholly unheralded and unmet. The one thing that +changed his destiny was that at a meeting of a certain widely known +fraternal order the next night, the Chamber of Commerce crossed trails +with the Frontier in the person of another old resident who had his +home in the farthest reaches of the Umpqua Divide. The latter asked the +former to come up for a few days' shooting--the deer being fatter and +more numerous than any previous season since the days of the grizzlies. +For it is true that one of the most magnificent breed of bears that ever +walked the face of the earth once left their footprints, as of +flour-sacks in the mud, from one end of the region to another. + +"Too busy, I'm afraid," the Chamber of Commerce had replied. "But +Lennox--that reminds me. Do you remember old Dan Failing?" + +Lennox probed back into the years for a single instant, straightened out +all the kinks of his memory in less time than the wind straightens out +the folds of a flag, and turned a most interested face. "Remember him!" +he exclaimed. "I should say I do." The middle-aged man half-closed his +piercing, gray eyes. Those piercing eyes are a characteristic peculiar +to the mountain men, and whether they come from gazing over endless +miles of winter snow, or from some quality of steel that life in the +mountains imbues, no one is quite able to determine. + +"Listen, Steele," he said. "I saw Dan Failing make a bet once. I was +just a kid, but I wake up in my sleep to marvel at it. We had a full +long glimpse of a black-tail bounding up a long slope. It was just a +spike-buck, and Dan Failing said he could take the left-hand spike off +with one shot from his old Sharpe's. Three of us bet him--the whole +thing in less than two seconds. With the next shot, he'd get the deer. +He won the bet, and now if I ever forget Dan Failing, I want to die." + +"You're just the man I'm looking for, then. You're not going out till +the day after to-morrow?" + +"No." + +"On the limited, hitting here to-morrow morning, there's a grandson of +Dan Failing. His name is Dan Failing too, and he wants to go up to your +place to hunt. Stay all summer and pay board." + +Lennox's eyes said that he couldn't believe it was true. After a while +his tongue spoke, too. "Good Lord," he said. "I used to foller Dan +around--like old Shag, before he died, followed Snowbird. Of course he +can come. But he can't pay board." + +It was rather characteristic of the mountain men,--that the grandson of +Dan Failing couldn't possibly pay board. But Steele knew the ways of +cities and of men, and he only smiled. "He won't come, then," he +explained. "Anyway, have that out with him at the end of his stay. He +wants fishing, and you've got that in the North fork. He wants shooting, +and if there is a place in the United States with more wild animals +around the back door than at your house, I don't know where it is. +Moreover, you're a thousand miles back--" + +"Only one hundred, if you must know. But Steele--do you suppose he's the +man his grandfather was before him--that all the Failings have been +since the first days of the Oregon trail? If he is--well, my hat's off +to him before he steps off the train." + +The mountaineer's bronzed face was earnest and intent in the bright +lights of the club. Steele thought he had known this breed. Now he began +to have doubts of his own knowledge. "He won't be; don't count on it," +he said humbly. "The Failings have done much for this region, and I'm +glad enough to do a little to pay it back, but don't count much on this +Eastern boy. He's lived in cities; besides, he's a sick man. He said so +in his wire. You ought to know it before you take him in." + +The bronzed face changed; possibly a shadow of disappointment came into +his eyes. "A lunger, eh?" Lennox repeated. "Yes--it's true that if he'd +been like the other Failings, he'd never have been that. Why, Steele, +you couldn't have given that old man a cold if you'd tied him in the +Rogue River overnight. Of course you couldn't count on the line keeping +up forever. But I'll take him, for the memory of his grandfather." + +"You're not afraid to?" + +"Afraid, Hell! He can't infect those two strapping children of mine. +Snowbird weighs one hundred and twenty pounds and is hard as steel. +Never knew a sick day in her life. And you know Bill, of course." + +Yes, Steele knew Bill. Bill weighed two hundred pounds, and he would +choose the biggest of the steers he drove down to the lower levels in +the winter and, twisting its horns, would make it lay over on its side. +Besides, both of the men assumed that Dan must be only in the first +stages of his malady. + +And even as the men talked, the train that bore Dan Failing to the home +of his ancestors was entering for the first time the dark forests of +pine and fir that make the eternal background of the Northwest. The wind +came cool and infinitely fresh into the windows of the sleeping car, and +it brought, as camels bring myrrh from the East, strange, pungent odors +of balsam and mountain flower and warm earth, cooling after a day of +blasting sun. And these smells all came straight home to Dan. He was +wholly unable to understand the strange feeling of familiarity that he +had with them, a sensation that in his dreams he had known them always, +and that he must never go out of the range of them again. + + + + +III + + +Dan didn't see his host at first. For the first instant he was entirely +engrossed by a surging sense of disappointment,--a feeling that he had +been tricked and had only come to another city after all. He got down on +to the gravel of the station yard, and out on the gray street pavement +he heard the clang of a trolley car. Trolley cars didn't fit into his +picture of the West at all. Many automobiles were parked just beside the +station, some of them foreign cars of expensive makes, such as he +supposed would be wholly unknown on the frontier. A man in golf clothes +brushed his shoulder. + +It wasn't a large city; but there was certainly lack of any suggestion +of the frontier. But there were a number of things that Dan Failing did +not know about the West. One of the most important of them was the +curious way in which wildernesses and busy cities are sometimes mixed up +indiscriminately together, and how one can step out of a modern country +club to hear the coyotes wailing on the hills. He really had no right to +feel disappointed. He had simply come to the real West--that bewildering +land in which To-morrow and Yesterday sit right next to each other, with +no To-day between. The cities, often built on the dreams of the future, +sometimes are modern to such a point that they give many a sophisticated +Eastern man a decided shock. But quite often this quality extends to the +corporation limits and not a step further. Then, likely as not, they +drop sheer off, as over a precipice, into the utter wildness of the +Past. + +Dan looked up to the hills, and he felt better. He couldn't see them +plainly. The faint smoke of a distant forest fire half obscured them. +Yet he saw fold on fold of ridges of a rather peculiar blue in color, +and even his untrained eyes could see that they were clothed in forests +of evergreen. It is a strange thing about evergreen forests that they +never, even when one is close to them, appear to be really green. To a +distant eye, they range all the way from lavender to a pale sort of blue +for which no name has ever been invented. Just before dark, when, as all +mountaineers know, the sky turns green, the forests are simply curious, +dusky shadows. The pines are always dark. Perhaps, after all, they are +simply the symbol of the wilderness,--eternal, silent, and in a vague +way rather dark and sad. No one who really knows the mountains can +completely get away from their tone of sadness. Over the heads of the +green hills Dan could see a few great peaks; McLaughlin, even and +regular as a painted mountain; Wagner, with queer white gashes where the +snow still lay in its ravines, and to the southeast the misty range of +snow-covered hills that were the Siskeyous. He felt decidedly better. +And when he saw old Silas Lennox waiting patiently beside the station, +he felt he had come to the right place. + +It would be interesting to explain why Dan at once recognized the older +man for the breed he was. But unfortunately, there are certain of the +many voices that speak within the minds of human beings of which +scientists have never been able to take phonographic records. They +simply whisper their messages, and their hearer, without knowing why, +knows that he has heard the truth. Silas Lennox was not dressed in a way +that would distinguish him. It was true that he wore a flannel shirt, +riding trousers, and rather heavy, leathern boots. But sportsmen all +over the face of the earth wear this costume at sundry times. Mountain +men have a peculiar stride by which experienced persons can occasionally +recognize them; but Silas Lennox was standing still when Dan got his +first glimpse of him. The case resolves itself into a simple matter of +the things that could be read in Lennox's face. + +Dan disbelieved wholly in a book that told how to read characters at +sight. Yet at the first glance of the lean, bronzed face his heart gave +a curious little bound. A pair of gray eyes met his,--two fine black +points in a rather hard gray iris. They didn't look past him, or at +either side of him, or at his chin or his forehead. They looked right at +his own eyes. The skin around the eyes was burned brown by the sun, and +the flesh was so lean that the cheek bones showed plainly. The mouth was +straight; but yet it was neither savage nor cruel. It was simply +determined. + +But the strangest part of all was that Dan felt an actual sense of +familiarity with this kind of man. To his knowledge, he had never known +one before; and it was extremely doubtful if, in his middle-western +city, he had even seen the type. In spite of the fact that he thinks +nothing of starting out thirty miles across the snow on snowshoes, the +mountain man cannot be called an extensive traveler. He plans to go to +some great city once in a lifetime and dreams about it of nights, but +rather often the Death that is every one's next-door neighbor in the +wilderness comes in and cheats him out of the trip. Few of the breed had +ever come to Gitcheapolis. Yet all his life, Dan felt, he had known this +straight, gray-eyed mountain breed even better than he knew the boys +that went to college with him. At the time he didn't stop to wonder at +the feeling. He was too busy looking about. But the time was to come +when he would wonder and conclude that it was just another bit of +evidence pointing to the same conclusion. And besides this unexplainable +feeling of familiarity, he felt a sudden sense of peace, even a quiet +sort of exultation, such as a man feels when he gets back into his own +home country at last. + +Lennox came up with a light, silent tread and extended his hand. "You're +Dan Failing's grandson, aren't you?" he asked. "I'm Silas Lennox, who +used to know him when he lived on the Divide. You are coming to spend +the summer and fall on my ranch." + +The immediate result of these words, besides relief, was to set Dan +wondering how the old mountaineer had recognized him. He wondered if he +had any physical resemblance to his grandfather. But this hope was shot +to earth at once. His telegram had explained about his malady, and of +course the mountaineer had picked him out simply because he had the +mark of the disease on his face. As he shook hands, he tried his best +to read the mountaineer's expression. It was all too plain: an +undeniable look of disappointment. + +The truth was that even in spite of all the Chamber of Commerce head had +told him, Lennox had still hoped to find some image of the elder Dan +Failing in the face and body of his grandson. But at first there seemed +to be none at all. The great hunter and trapper who had tamed the +wilderness about the region of the Divide--as far as mortal man could +tame it--had a skin that was rather the color of old leather. The face +of this young man was wholly without tinge of color. Because of the +thick glasses, Lennox could not see the young man's eyes; but he didn't +think it likely they were at all like the eyes with which the elder +Failing saw his way through the wilderness at night. Of course he was +tall, just as the famous frontiersman had been, but while the elder +weighed one hundred and ninety pounds, bone and muscle, this man did not +touch one hundred and thirty. Evidently the years had brought degeneracy +to the Failing clan. Lennox was desolated by the thought. + +He helped Dan with his bag to a little wiry automobile that waited +beside the station. They got into the two front seats. + +"You'll be wondering at my taking you in a car--clear to the Divide," +Lennox explained. "But we mountain men can't afford to drive horses any +more where a car will go. This time of year I can make it fairly +easy--only about fifteen miles on low gear. But in the winter--it's +either a case of coming down on snowshoes or staying there." + +And a moment later they were starting up the long, curved road that led +to the Divide. + +During the hour that they were crossing over the foothills, on the way +to the big timber, Silas Lennox talked a great deal about the +frontiersman that had been Dan's grandfather. A mountain man does not +use profuse adjectives. He talks very simply and very straight, and +often there are long silences between his sentences. Yet he conveys his +ideas with entire clearness. + +Dan realized at once that if he could be, in Lennox's eyes, one fifth of +the man his grandfather had been, he would never have to fear again the +look of disappointment with which his host had greeted him at the +station. But instead of reaching that high place, he had only--death. He +was never to be one of this strong breed from which his people sprang. +Always they would accept him for the memories that they held of his +ancestors, pity him for his weakness, and possibly be kind enough to +deplore his death. He never need fear any actual expressions of scorn. +Lennox had a natural refinement that forbade it. Dan never knew a more +intense desire than that to make good in the eyes of these mountain men. +Far back, they had been his own people; and all men know that the +upholding of a family's name and honor has been one of the greatest +impulses for good conduct and great deeds since the beginnings of +civilization. But Dan pushed the hope out of his mind at once. He knew +what his destiny was in these quiet hills. And it was true that he began +to have secret regrets that he had come. But it wasn't that he was +disappointed in the land that was opening up before him. It fulfilled +every promise. His sole reason for regrets lay in the fact that now the +whole mountain world would know of the decay that had come upon his +people. Perhaps it would have been better to have left them to their +traditions. + +He had never dreamed that the fame of his grandfather had spread so far. +For the first ten miles, Dan listened to stories,--legends of a cold +nerve that simply could not be shaken; of a powerful, tireless physique; +of moral and physical strength that was seemingly without limit. Then, +as the foothills began to give way to the higher ridges, and the shadow +of the deeper forests fell upon the narrow, brown road, there began to +be long gaps in the talk. And soon they rode in utter silence, evidently +both of them absorbed in their own thoughts. + +Dan did not wonder at it at all. Perhaps he began to faintly understand +the reason for the silence and the reticence that is such a predominant +trait in the forest men. There is a quality in the big timber that +doesn't make for conversation, and no one has ever been completely +successful in explaining what it is. Perhaps there is a feeling of +insignificance, a sensation that is particularly insistent in the winter +snows. No man can feel like talking very loudly when he is the only +living creature within endless miles. The trees, towering and old, seem +to ignore him as a being too unimportant to notice. And besides, the +silence of the forest itself seems to get into the spirit, and the +great, quiet spaces that lie between tree and tree simply dry up the +springs of conversation. Dan did not feel oppressed at all. He merely +seemed to fall into the spirit of the woods, and no words came to his +lips. He began to watch the ever-changing vista that the curving road +revealed. + +First there had been brown hills, and here and there great heaps of +stone. The brush had been rather scrubby, and the trees somewhat sickly +and brown. But now, as the men mounted higher, they were coming into +open forest. The trees stood one and one, perfect, dark-limbed, and only +the carpet of their needles lay between. The change was evidenced in the +streams, too. They seemingly had not suffered from the drought that had +sucked up the valley streams. They were faster, whiter with foam, and +the noise of their falling waters carried farther through the still +woods. The road followed the long shoulder of a ridge, an easy grade of +perhaps six per cent, but Dan counted ridges sloping off until he was +tired. + +By now the smaller wild things of the mountains began to present +themselves a breathless instant beside the road. These little people +have an actual purpose in the hills other than to furnish food for the +larger forest creatures. They give a note of sociability, of +companionship, that is sorely needed to dull the edge of the utter, +stark lonesomeness and severity that is the usual tone of the mountains. +The fact that they all live under the snow in winter is one reason why +this season is especially dreadful to the spirit. + +Every tree trunk seemed to have its chipmunks, and they all appeared to +be suffering from the same delusion. They all were afflicted with the +idea that the car was trying to cut off their retreat, and only by +crossing the road in front of it could they save themselves. This idea +is a particularly prevalent one with wild animals; and it is the same +instinct that makes a domestic cow almost invariably cross the road in +front of a motorist. And it also explains why certain cowardly animals, +such as the wolf or cougar, will sometimes seemingly without a cause on +earth, make a desperate charge on a hunter. They think their retreat is +cut off, and they have to fight. Again and again the chipmunks crossed +at the risk of their lives. Sometimes the two men saw those big, +flat-footed rabbits that are especially constructed for moving about in +the winter snows, and more than once the grouse rose with a whir and +beat of wings. + +Every mile was an added delight to Dan. Not even wine could have brought +a brighter sparkle to his eyes. He had begun to experience a vague sort +of excitement, an emotion that was almost kin to exultation, over the +constant stir and movement of the forest life. He didn't know that a +bird dog feels the same when it gets to the uplands where the quail are +hiding. He had no acquaintance with bird dogs whatever. He hadn't +remembered that he had qualities in common with them,--a long line of +ancestors who had lived by hunting. + +Once, as they stopped the car to refill the radiator from a mountain +stream, Lennox looked at him with sudden curiosity. "You are getting a +thrill out of this, aren't you?" he asked wonderingly. + +It was a curious tone. Perhaps it was a hopeful tone, too. He spoke as +if he hardly understood. + +"A thrill!" Dan echoed. He spoke as a man speaks in the presence of some +great wonder. "Good Heavens, I never saw anything like it in my life." + +"In this very stream," the mountaineer told him joyously, "you may +occasionally catch trout that weigh three pounds." + +But as he got back into the car, the look of interest died out of +Lennox's eyes. Of course any man would be somewhat excited by his first +glimpse of the wilderness. It was not that he had inherited any of the +traits of his grandfather. It was absurd to hope that he had. And he +would soon get tired of the silences and want to go back to his cities. +He told his thought--that it would all soon grow old to him; and Dan +turned almost in anger. + +"You don't know," he said. "I didn't know myself, how I would feel about +it. I'm never going to leave the hills again." + +"You don't mean that." + +"But I do." He tried to speak further, but he coughed instead. "But I +couldn't if I wanted to. That cough tells you why, I guess." + +"You mean to say--" Silas Lennox turned in amazement. "You mean that +you're a--a goner? That you've given up hope of recovering?" + +"That's the impression I meant to convey. I've got a little over four +months--though I don't see that I'm any weaker than I was when the +doctor said I had six months. Those four will take me all through the +fall and the early winter. And I hope you won't feel that you've been +imposed upon--to have a dying man on your hands." + +"It isn't that." Silas Lennox threw his car into gear and started up the +long grade. And he drove clear to the top of it and into another glen +before he spoke again. Then he pointed to what looked to Dan like a +brown streak that melted into the thick brush. "That was a deer," he +said slowly. "Just a glimpse, but your grandfather could have got him +between the eyes. Most like as not, though, he'd have let him go. He +never killed except when he needed meat. But that--as you say--ain't the +impression I'm trying to convey." + +He seemed to be groping for words. + +"What is it, Mr. Lennox?" Dan asked. + +"Instead of being sorry, I'm mighty glad you've come," Lennox told him. +"It's not that I expect you to be like your grandfather. You haven't had +his chance. But it's always the way of true men, the world over, to come +back to their own kind to die. That deer we just saw--he's your people, +and so are all these ranchers that grub their lives out of the +forests--they are your people too. The bears and the elk, and even the +porcupines. Though you likely won't care for 'em, it's almost as if they +were your grandfather's own folks. And you couldn't have pleased the old +man's old friends any better, or done more for his memory, than to come +back to his own land for your last days." + +There were great depths of meaning in the simple words. There were +significances, such as the love that the mountain men have for their own +land, that came but dimly to Dan's perceptions. The words were strange, +yet Dan intuitively understood. It was as if a prodigal son had returned +at last, and although his birthright was squandered and he came only to +die, the people of his home would give him kindness and forgiveness, +even though they could not give him their respect. + + + + +IV + + +The Lennox home was a typical mountain ranch-house,--square, solid, +comforting in storm and wind. Bill was out to the gate when the car +drove up. He was a son of his father, a strong man in body and +personality. He too had heard of the elder Failing, and he opened his +eyes when he saw the slender youth that was his grandson. And he led the +way into the white-walled living room. + +The shadows of twilight were just falling; and Bill had already lighted +a fire in the fireplace to remove the chill that always descends with +the mountain night. The whole long room was ruddy and cheerful in its +glare. At once the elder Lennox drew a chair close to it for Dan. + +"You must be chilly and worn-out from the long ride," he suggested +quietly. He spoke in the tone a strong man invariably uses toward an +invalid. But while a moment before Dan had welcomed the sight of the +leaping, life-giving flames, he felt a curious resentment at the words. + +"I'm not cold," he said. "It's hardly dark yet. I'd sooner go outdoors +and look around." + +The elder man regarded him curiously, perhaps with the faintest glimmer +of admiration. "You'd better wait till to-morrow, Dan," he replied. +"Bill will have supper soon, anyway. To-morrow we'll walk up the ridge +and I'll see if I can show you a deer. You don't want to overdo too +much, right at first." + +"But, good Heavens! I'm not going to try to spare myself while I'm here. +It's too late for that." + +"Of course--but sit down now, anyway. I'm sorry that Snowbird isn't +here." + +"Snowbird is--" + +"My daughter. My boy, she can make a biscuit! That's not her name, of +course, but we've always called her that. She got tired of keeping house +and is working this summer. Poor Bill has to keep house for her, and no +wonder he's eager to take the stock down to the lower levels. I only +wish he hadn't brought 'em up this spring at all; I've lost dozens from +the coyotes." + +"But a coyote can't kill cattle--" + +"It can if it has hydrophobia, a common thing in the varmints this time +of year. But as I say, Bill will take the stock down next season, and +then Snowbird's work will be through, and she'll come back here." + +"Then she's down in the valley?" + +"Far from it. She's a mountain girl if one ever lived. Perhaps you don't +know the recent policy of the forest service to hire women when they can +be obtained. It was a policy started in wartimes and kept up now because +it is economical and efficient. She and a girl from college have a cabin +not five miles from here on old Bald Mountain, and they're doing lookout +duty." + +Dan wondered intensely what lookout duty might be. His thoughts went +back to his early study of forestry. "You see, Dan," Lennox said in +explanation, "the government loses thousands of dollars every year by +forest fire. A fire can be stopped easily if it is seen soon after it +starts. But let it burn awhile, in this dry season, and it's a terror--a +wall of flame that races through the forests and can hardly be stopped. +And maybe you don't realize how enormous this region is--literally +hundreds of miles across. We're the last outpost--there are four cabins, +if you can find them, in the first seventy miles back to town. So they +have to put lookouts on the high points, and now they're coming to the +use of aëroplanes so they can keep even a better watch. All summer and +until the rains come in the fall, they have to guard every minute, and +even then sometimes the fires get away from them. And one of the first +things a forester learns, Dan, is to be careful with fire." + +"Is that the way they are started--from the carelessness of campers?" + +"Partly. There's an old rule in the hills: put out every fire before you +leave it. Be careful with the cigar butts, too--even the coals of a +pipe. But of course the lightning starts many fires, and, I regret to +say, hundreds of them are started with matches." + +"But why on earth--" + +"It doesn't make very good sense, does it? Well, one reason is that +certain stockmen think that a burned forest makes good range--that the +undervegetation that springs up when the trees are burned makes good +feed for stock. And you must know, too, that there are two kinds of men +in the mountains. One kind--the real mountain man, such as your +grandfather was--lives just as well, just as clean as the ranchers in +the valley. Some of this kind are trappers or herders. But there's +another class too--the most unbelievably shiftless, ignorant people in +America. They have a few acres to raise crops, and they kill deer for +their hides, and most of all they make their living fighting forest +fires. A fire means work for every hill-billy in the region--often five +or six dollars a day and better food than they're used to. Moreover, +they can loaf on the job, put in claims for extra hours, and make what +to them is a fortune. + +"You'll likely see a few of the breed before--before your visit here is +ended. There's a family of 'em not three miles away--and that's real +neighborly in the mountains--by the name of Cranston. Bert Cranston +traps a little and makes moonshine; you'll probably see plenty of him +before the trip is over. Sometime I'll tell you of a little difficulty +that I had with him once. You needn't worry about him coming to this +house; he's already received his instructions in that matter. + +"But I see I'm getting all tangled up in my traces. Snowbird and a girl +friend from college got jobs this summer as lookouts--all through the +forest service they are hiring women for the work. They are more +vigilant than men, less inclined to take chances, and work cheaper. +These two girls have a cabin near a spring, and they cook their own +food, and are making what is big wages in the mountains. I'm rather +hoping she'll drop over for a few minutes to-night." + +"Good Lord--does she travel over these hills in the darkness?" + +The mountaineer laughed--a delighted sound that came somewhat curiously +from the bearded lips of the stern, dark man. "Dan, I'll swear she's +afraid of nothing that walks the face of the earth--and it isn't because +she hasn't had experiences either. She's a dead shot with a pistol, for +one thing. She's physically strong, and every muscle is hard as nails. +She used to have Shag, too--the best dog in all these mountains. She's a +mountain girl, I tell you; whoever wins her has got to be able to tame +her!" The mountaineer laughed again. "I sent her to school, of course, +but there was only one boy she'd look at--the athletic coach! And it +wasn't his fault that he didn't follow her back to the mountains." + +The call to supper came then, and Dan got his first sight of mountain +food. There were potatoes, newly dug, mountain vegetables that were +crisp and cold, a steak of peculiar shape, and a great bowl of purple +berries to be eaten with sugar and cream. Dan's appetite was not as a +rule particularly good. But evidently the long ride had affected him. He +simply didn't have the moral courage to refuse when the elder Lennox +heaped his plate. + +"Good Heavens, I can't eat all that," he said, as it was passed to him. +But the others laughed and told him to take heart. + +He took heart. It was a singular thing, but at that first bite his +sudden confidence in his gustatory ability almost overwhelmed him. All +his life he had avoided meat. His mother had always been convinced that +such a delicate child as he had been could not properly digest it. But +all at once he decided to forego his mother's philosophies for good and +all. There was certainly nothing to be gained by following them any +longer. So he cut himself a bite of the tender steak--fully half as +generous as the bites that Bill was consuming across the table. And its +first flavor simply filled him with delight. + +"What is this meat?" he asked. "I've certainly tasted it before." + +"I'll bet a few dollars that you haven't, if you've lived all your life +in the Middle West," Lennox answered. "Maybe you've got what the +scientists call an inherited memory of it. It's the kind of meat your +grandfather used to live on--venison." + +Both of them had seemed pleased that he liked the venison. And both +seemed boyishly eager to test his reaction to the great, wild +huckleberries that were the dessert of the simple meal. He tried them +with much ceremony. + +Their flavor really surprised him. They had a tang, a fragrance that was +quite unlike anything he had ever tasted, yet which brought a curious +flood of dim, half-understood memories. It seemed to him that always he +had stood on the hillsides, picking these berries as they grew, and +staining his lips with them. But at once he pushed the thoughts out of +his mind, thinking that his imagination was playing tricks upon him. And +soon after this, Lennox led him out of the house for his first glimpse +of the hills in the darkness. + +They walked together out to the gate, across the first of the wide +pastures where, at certain seasons, Lennox kept his cattle; and at last +they came out upon the tree-covered ridge. The moon was just rising. +They could see it casting a curious glint over the very tips of the +pines. But it couldn't get down between them. They stood too close, too +tall and thick for that. And for a moment, Dan's only sensation was one +of silence. + +"You have to stand still a moment, to really know anything," Lennox told +him. + +They both stood still. Dan was as motionless as that day in the park, +long weeks before, when the squirrel had climbed on his shoulder. The +first effect was a sensation that the silence was deepening around them. +It wasn't really true. It was simply that he had become aware of the +little continuous sounds of which usually he was unconscious, and they +tended to accentuate the hush of the night. He heard his watch ticking +in his pocket, the whispered stir of his own breathing, and he was quite +certain that he could hear the fevered beat of his own heart in his +breast. But then slowly he began to become aware of other sounds, so +faint and indistinct that he really could not be sure that he heard +them. There was a faint rustle and stir, as of the tops of the pine +trees far away. Possibly he heard the wind too, the faintest whisper in +the world through the underbrush. And finally, most wonderful of all, he +began to hear one by one, over the ridge on which he stood, little +whispered sounds of living creatures stirring in the thickets. He knew, +just as all mountaineers know, that the wilderness about him was +stirring and pulsing with life. Some of the sounds were quite clear--an +occasional stir of a pebble or the crack of a twig, and some, like the +faintest twitching of leaves in the brush not ten feet distant, could +only be guessed at. + +"What is making the sounds?" he asked. + +He didn't know it, at the time, but Lennox turned quickly toward him. It +wasn't that the question had surprised the mountaineer. Rather it was +the tone in which Dan had spoken. It was perfectly cool, perfectly +self-contained. + +"The one right close is a chipmunk. I don't know what the others are; no +one ever does know. Perhaps ground squirrels, or rabbits, or birds, and +maybe even one of those harmless old black bears who is curious about +the house. The bears have more curiosity than they can well carry +around, and they say they'll sometimes come up and put their front feet +on a window sill of a house, and peer through the window. They must +think men are the craziest things! And of course it might be a +coyote--and a mad one at that. I guess I told you that they're subject +to rabies at this time of year. I'll confess I'd rather have it be +anything else. And tell me--can you _smell_ anything--" + +"Good Lord, Lennox! I can smell all kinds of things." + +"I'm glad. Some men can't. No one can enjoy the woods if he can't smell. +Part of the smells are of flowers, and part of balsam, and God only +knows what the others are. They are just the wilderness--" + +Dan could not only perceive the smells and sounds, but he felt that they +were leaving an imprint on the very fiber of his soul. He knew one +thing. He knew he could never forget this first introduction to the +mountain night. The whole scene moved him in strange, deep ways in which +he had never been stirred before; it left him exultant and, in deep +wells of his nature far below the usual currents of excitement, a little +excited too. And all the time he had that indefinable sense of +familiarity, a knowledge that this was his own land, and after a long, +long time of wandering in far places, he had come back to it. + +Then both of them were startled out of their reflections by the clear, +unmistakable sound of footsteps on the ridge. Both of them turned, and +Lennox laughed softly in the darkness. "My daughter," he said. "I knew +she wouldn't be afraid to come." + + + + +V + + +Dan could see only Snowbird's outline at first, just her shadow against +the moonlit hillside. His glasses were none too good at long range. And +possibly, when she came within range, the first thing that he noticed +about her was her stride. The girls he knew didn't walk in quite that +free, strong way. She took almost a man-size step; and yet it was +curious that she did not seem ungraceful. Dan had a distinct impression +that she was floating down to him on the moonlight. She seemed to come +with such unutterable smoothness. And then he heard her call lightly +through the darkness. + +The sound gave him a distinct sense of surprise. Some way, he hadn't +associated a voice like this with a mountain girl; he had supposed that +there would be so many harshening influences in this wild place. Yet the +tone was as clear and full as a trained singer's. It was not a high +voice; and yet it seemed simply brimming, as a cup brims with wine, with +the rapture of life. It was a self-confident voice too, wholly +unaffected and sincere, and wholly without embarrassment. + +Then she came close, and Dan saw the moonlight on her face. And so it +came about, whether in dreams or wakefulness, he could see nothing else +for many hours to come. + +Beauty, after all, is wholly a matter of the nearest possible approach +to the physical perfection that many centuries of human faces have +established as a standard. Thus perfection in this case does not mean +some ideal that has been imaged by a poet, but just the nearest approach +to the perfect physical body that nature intended, and which is the +flawless example of the type that composes the race. Thus a typical +feature is the most beautiful, and by this reasoning a composite picture +of all the young girl faces in the Anglo-Saxon nations would be the most +beautiful face that any painter could conceive. It follows that health +is above all the most essential quality to beauty, because disease, from +the nature of things, means thwarted growth that could not possibly +reach the typical of the race. + +The girl who stood in the moonlight had health. She was simply vibrant +with health. It brought a light to her eyes, and a color to her cheeks, +and life and shimmer to her moonlit hair. It brought curves to her +body, and strength and firmness to her limbs, and the grace of a deer to +her carriage. Whether she had regular features or not Dan would have +been unable to state. He didn't even notice. They weren't important when +health was present. Yet there was nothing of the coarse or bold or +voluptuous about her. She was just a slender girl, perhaps twenty years +of age, and weighing even less than the figure occasionally to be read +in the health magazines for girls of her height. And she was fresh and +cool beyond all words to tell. + +And Dan had no delusions about her attitude toward him. For a long +instant she turned her keen, young eyes to his white, thin face; and at +once it became abundantly evident that beyond a few girlish speculations +she felt no interest in him. After a single moment of rather strained, +polite conversation with Dan--just enough to satisfy her idea of the +conventions--she began a thrilling girlhood tale to her father. And she +was still telling it when they reached the house. + +Dan held a chair for her in front of the fireplace, and she took it with +entire naturalness. He was careful to put it where the firelight was at +its height. He wanted to see its effect on the flushed cheeks, the soft +dark hair. And then, standing in the shadows, he simply watched her. +With the eye of an artist he delighted in her gestures, her rippling +enthusiasm, her utter, irrepressible girlishness that all of Time had +not years enough to kill. + +He decided that she had gray eyes. Gray eyes seemed to be characteristic +of the mountain people. Sometimes, when the shadows fell across them, +they looked very dark, as if the pines had been reflected in them all +day and the image had not yet faded out. But in an instant the shadow +flicked away and left only light,--light that danced and light that +laughed and light that went into him and did all manner of things to his +spirit. + +Bill stood watching her, his hands deep in his pockets, evidently a +companion of the best. Her father gazed at her with amused tolerance. +And Dan,--he didn't know in just what way he did look at her. And he +didn't have time to decide. In less than fifteen minutes, and wholly +without warning, she sprang up from her chair and started toward the +door. + +"Good Lord!" Dan breathed. "If you make such sudden motions as that I'll +have heart failure. Where are you going now?" + +"Back to my watch," she answered, her tone wholly lacking the personal +note which men have learned to expect in the voices of women. And an +instant later the three of them saw her retreating shadow as she +vanished among the pines. + +Dan had to be helped to bed. The long ride had been too hard on his +shattered lungs; and nerves and body collapsed an instant after the door +was closed behind the departing girl. He laughed weakly and begged their +pardon; and the two men were really very gentle. They told him it was +their own fault for permitting him to overdo. Lennox himself blew out +the candle in the big, cold bedroom. + +Dan saw the door close behind him, and he had an instant's glimpse of +the long sweep of moonlit ridge that stretched beneath the window. Then, +all at once, seemingly without warning, it simply blinked out. Not until +the next morning did he really know why. Insomnia was an old +acquaintance of Dan's, and he had expected to have some trouble in +getting to sleep. His only real trouble was waking up again when Lennox +called him to breakfast. He couldn't believe that the light at his +window shade was really that of morning. + +"Good Heavens!" his host exploded. "You sleep the sleep of the just." + +Dan was about to tell him that on the contrary he was a very nervous +sleeper, but he thought better of it. Something had surely happened to +his insomnia. The next instant he even forgot to wonder about it in the +realization that his tired body had been wonderfully refreshed. He had +no dread now of the long tramp up the ridge that his host had planned. + +But first came target practice. In Dan's baggage he had a certain very +plain but serviceable sporting rifle of about thirty-forty caliber,--a +gun that the information department of the large sporting-goods store in +Gitcheapolis had recommended for his purpose. Except for the few moments +in the store, Dan had never held a rifle in his hands. + +Of course the actual aiming of a rifle is an extremely simple +proposition. A man with fair use of his hands and eyes can pick it up in +less time than it takes to tell it. The fine art of marksmanship +consists partly in the finer sighting,--the instinctive realization of +just what fraction of the front sight should be visible through the +rear. But most of all it depends on the control that the nerves have +over the muscles. Some men are born rifle shots; and on others it is +quite impossible to thrust any skill whatever. + +The nerve impulses and the muscular reflexes must be exquisitely tuned, +so that the finger presses back on the trigger the identical instant +that the mark is seen on the line of the sights. One quarter of a +second's delay will usually disturb the aim. There must be no muscular +jerk as the trigger is pressed. Shooting was never a sport for blasted +nerves. And usually such attributes as the ability to judge distances, +the speed and direction of a fleeing object, and the velocity of the +wind can only be learned by tireless practice. + +When Dan first took the rifle in his hands, Lennox was rather amazed at +the ease and naturalness with which he held it. It seemed to come up +naturally to his shoulder. Lennox scarcely had to tell him how to rest +the butt and to drop his chin as he aimed. He began to look rather +puzzled. Dan seemed to know all these things by instinct. The first +shot, Dan hit the trunk of a five-foot pine at thirty paces. + +"But I couldn't very well have missed it!" he replied to Lennox's cheer. +"You see, I aimed at the middle--but I just grazed the edge." + +The second shot was not so good, missing the tree altogether. And it was +a singular thing that he aimed longer and tried harder on this shot than +on the first. The third time he tried still harder, and made by far the +worst shot of all. + +"What's the matter?" he demanded. "I'm getting worse all the time." + +Lennox didn't know for sure. But he made a long guess. "It might be +beginner's luck," he said, "but I'm inclined to think you're trying too +hard. Take it easier--depend more on your instincts. Some marksmen are +born good shots and cook themselves trying to follow rules. It might be, +by the longest chance, that you're one of them--at least it won't hurt +to try." + +Dan's reply was to lift the rifle lightly to his shoulder, glance +quickly along the trigger, and fire. The bullet struck within one inch +of the center of the pine. + +For a long second Lennox gazed at him in open-mouthed astonishment. "My +stars, boy!" he cried at last. "Was I mistaken in thinking you were a +born tenderfoot--after all? Can it be that a little of your old +grandfather's skill has been passed down to you? But you can't do it +again." + +But Dan did do it again. If anything, the bullet was a little nearer the +center. And then he aimed at a more distant tree. + +But the hammer snapped down ineffectively on the breech. He turned with +a look of question. + +"Your gun only holds five shots," Lennox explained. Reloading, Dan tried +a more difficult target--a trunk almost one hundred yards distant. Of +course it would have been only child's play to an experienced hunter; +but to a tenderfoot it was the difficult mark indeed. Twice out of four +shots Dan hit the tree trunk, and one of his two hits was practically a +bull's-eye. His two misses were the result of the same mistake he had +made before,--attempting to hold his aim too long. + +The shots rang far through the quiet woods, long-drawn from the echoes +that came rocking back from the hills. In contrast with the deep silence +that is really an eternal part of the mountains, the sound seemed +preternaturally loud. All over the great sweep of canyon, the wild +creatures heard and were startled. One could easily imagine the +Columbian deer, gone to their buckbrush to sleep, springing up and +lifting pointed ears. There is no more graceful action in the whole +animal world than this first, startled spring of a frightened buck. Then +old Woof, feeding in the berry bushes, heard the sound too. Woof has +considerably more understanding than most of the wild inhabitants of the +forest, and maybe that is why he left his banquet and started falling +all over his awkward self in descending the hill. It might be that +Lennox would want to procure his guest a sample of bear steak; and Woof +didn't care to be around to suggest such a thing. At least, that would +be his train of thought according to those naturalists who insist on +ascribing human intelligence to all the forest creatures. But it is true +that Woof had learned to recognize a rifle shot, and he feared it worse +than anything on earth. + +Far away on the ridge top, a pair of wolves sat together with no more +evidence of life than two shadows. One of the most effective +accomplishments a wolf possesses is its ability to freeze into a +motionless thing, so the sharpest eye can scarcely detect him in the +thickets. It is an advantage in hunting, and it is an even greater +advantage when being hunted. Yet at the same second they sprang up, +simply seemed to spin in the dead pine needles, and brought up with +sharp noses pointed and ears erect, facing the valley. + +A human being likely would have wondered at their action. It is doubtful +that human ears could have detected that faint tremor in the air which +was all that was left of the rifle report. But of course this is a +question that would be extremely difficult to prove; for as a rule the +senses of the larger forest creatures, with the great exception of +scent, are not as perfectly developed as those of a human being. A wolf +can see better than a man in the darkness, but not nearly as far in the +daylight. But the wolves knew this sound. Too many times they had seen +their pack-fellows die in the snow when such a report as this, only +intensified a thousand times, cracked at them through the winter air. No +animal in all the forest has been as relentlessly hunted as the wolves, +and they have learned their lessons. For longer years than most men +would care to attempt to count, men have waged a ceaseless war upon +them. And they have learned that their safety lies in flight. + +Very quietly, and quite without panic, the wolves turned and headed +farther into the forests. Possibly no other animal would have been +frightened at such a distance. And it is certainly true that in the +deep, winter snows not even the wolves would have heeded the sound. The +snows bring Famine; and when Famine comes to keep its sentry-duty over +the land, all the other forest laws are immediately forgotten or +ignored. The pack forgets all its knowledge of the deadliness of men in +the starving times. + +The grouse heard the sound, and, silly creatures that they are, even +they raised their heads for a single instant from their food. The +felines--the great, tawny mountain lions and their smaller cousins, the +lynx--all devoted at least an instant of concentrated attention to it. +A raccoon, sleeping in a pine, opened its eyes, and a lone bull elk, +such as some people think is beyond all other things the monarch of the +forest, rubbed his neck against a tree trunk and wondered. + +But yet there remained two of the larger forest creatures that did not +heed at all. One was Urson, the porcupine, whose stupidity is beyond all +measuring. He was too slow and patient and dull to give attention to a +rifle bullet. And the other was Graycoat the coyote, gray and strange +and foam-lipped, on the hillside. Graycoat could hear nothing but +strange whinings and voices that rang ever in his ears. All other sounds +were obscured. The reason was extremely simple. In the dog days a +certain malady sometimes comes to the wild creatures, and it is dreaded +worse than drought or cold or any of the manifold terrors of their +lives. No one knows what name they have for this sickness. Human beings +call it hydrophobia. And the coyotes are particularly susceptible to it. + +Ordinarily the name of coyote is, among the beasts, a synonym for +cowardice as well as a certain kind of detested cunning. All the +cowardice of a mountain lion and a wolf and a lynx put together doesn't +equal the amount that Graycoat carried in the end of his tail. That +doesn't mean timidity. Timidity is a trait of the deer, a gift of nature +for self-preservation, and no one holds it against them. In fact, it +makes them rather appealing. Cowardice is a lack of moral courage to +remain and fight when nature has afforded the necessary weapons to fight +with. It is sort of a betrayal of nature,--a misuse of powers. No one +calls a rabbit a coward because it runs away. A warlike rabbit is +something that no man has ever seen since the beginning of the world, +and probably never will. Nature hasn't given the little animal any +weapons. + +But this is not true of the wolf or cougar. A wolf has ninety pounds of +lightning-quick muscles, and teeth that are nothing but a set of very +well-sharpened and perfectly arranged daggers. A cougar not only has +fangs, but talons that can rend flesh more terribly than the cogs of a +machine, and strength to make the air hum under his paw as he strikes it +down. And so it is an extremely disappointing thing to see either of +these animals flee in terror from an Airedale not half their size,--a +sight that most mountain men see rather often. The fact that they act +with greater courage in the famine times, and that either of them will +fight to the very death when brought to bay, are not extenuating +circumstances to their cowardice. A mouse will bite the hand that picks +it up if it has no other choice. + +A coyote is, at least in a measure, equipped for fighting. He is smaller +than a wolf, and his fangs are almost as terrible. Yet a herd of +determined sheep, turning to face him, puts him in a panic. The smallest +dog simply petrifies him with terror. And a rifle report,--he has been +known to put a large part of a county between himself and the source of +the sound in the shortest possible time. If a mountain man feels like +fighting, he simply calls another a coyote. It is more effective than +impugning the virtue of his female ancestors. To be called a coyote +means to be termed the lowest, most despised creature of which the +imagination can conceive. + +And besides being a perfect, unprincipled coward, he is utterly without +pride. And that is saying a great deal. Most large animals have more +pride than they have intelligence, particularly the bear and the moose. +A mature bear, dying before his foes, will often refrain from howling +even in the greatest agony. He is simply too proud. A moose greatly +dislikes to appear to run away in the presence of enemies. He will walk +with the dignity of a bishop until he thinks the brush has obscured him; +and then he will simply fly! And there was a dog once, long ago, which, +meeting on the highways a dog that was much larger and that could not +possibly be mastered, would simply turn away his eyes and pretend not to +see him. + +A coyote is wholly without this virtue, as well as most of the other +virtues of the animal world. He not only eats carrion--because if one +started to condemn all the carrion-eating animals of the forest he would +soon have precious few of them left--but he also eats old shoes off +rubbish piles. Unlike the wolf, he does not even find his courage in the +famine times. He has cunning, but cunning is not greatly beloved in men +or beasts. Most folk prefer a kindly, blundering awkwardness, a +simplicity of heart and spirit, such as are to be found in Woof the +bear. + +But Graycoat has one tendency that makes all the other forest creatures +regard him with consternation: he is extremely liable to madness. Along +in dog days he is seen suddenly to begin to rush through the thickets, +barking and howling and snapping at invisible enemies, with foam +dropping from his terrible lips. His eyes grow yellow and strange. And +this is the time that even the bull elk turns off his trail. No one +cares to meet Graycoat when the hydrophobia is upon him. At such time +all his cunning and his terror are quite forgotten in his agony, and he +is likely to make an unprovoked charge on Woof himself. + +Now Graycoat came walking stiff-legged down through the thickets. And +the forest creatures, from the smallest to the great, forgot the far-off +peal of the rifle bullets to get out of his way. + + + + +VI + + +Dan and Lennox started together up the long slope of the ridge. Dan +alone was armed; Lennox went with him solely as a guide. The deer season +had just opened, and it might be that Dan would want to procure one of +these creatures. + +"But I'm not sure I want to hunt deer," Dan told him. "You speak of them +as being so beautiful--" + +"They are beautiful, and your grandfather would never hunt them either, +except for meat. But maybe you'll change your mind when you see a buck. +Besides, we might run into a lynx or a panther. But not very likely, +without dogs." + +They trudged up, over the carpet of pine needles. They fought their way +through a thicket of buckbrush. Once they saw the gray squirrels in the +tree tops. And before Lennox had as much as supposed they were near the +haunts of big game, a yearling doe sprang up from its bed in the +thickets. + +For an instant she stood motionless, presenting a perfect target. It was +evident that she had heard the sound of the approaching hunters, but had +not as yet located or identified them with her near-sighted eyes. Lennox +whirled to find Dan standing very still, peering along the barrel of his +rifle. But he didn't shoot. A light danced in his eyes, and his fingers +crooked nervously about the trigger, but yet there was no pressure. The +deer, seeing Lennox move, leaped into her terror-pace,--that astounding +run that is one of the fastest gaits in the whole animal world. In the +wink of an eye, she was out of sight. + +"Why didn't you shoot?" Lennox demanded. + +"Shoot? It was a doe, wasn't it?" + +"Good Lord, of course it was a doe! But there are no game laws that go +back this far. Besides--you aimed at it." + +"I aimed just to see if I could catch it through my sights. And I could. +My glasses sort of made it blur--but I think--perhaps--that I could have +shot it. But I'm not going to kill does. There must be some reason for +the game laws, or they wouldn't exist." + +"You're a funny one. Come three thousand miles to hunt and then pass up +the first deer you see. You could almost have been your grandfather, to +have done that. He thought killing a deer needlessly was almost as bad +as killing a man. They are beautiful things, aren't they?" + +Dan answered him with startling emphasis. But the look that he wore said +more than his words. + +They trudged on, and Lennox grew thoughtful. He was recalling the +picture that he had seen when he had whirled to look at Dan, immediately +after the deer had leaped from its bed. It puzzled him a little. He had +turned to find the younger man in a perfect posture to shoot, his feet +placed in exactly the position that years of experience had taught +Lennox was correct; and withal, absolutely motionless. Of all the many +things to learn in the wilderness, to stand perfectly still in the +presence of game is one of the hardest. The natural impulse is to +start,--a nervous reflex that usually terrifies the game. The principle +of standing still is, of course, that it takes a certain length of time +for the deer to look about after it makes its first leap from its bed, +and if the hunter is motionless, the deer is usually unable to identify +him as a thing to fear. It gives a better chance for a shot. What many +hunters take years to learn, Dan had seemed to know by instinct. Could +it be, after all, that this slender weakling, even now bowed down with +a terrible malady, had inherited the true frontiersman's instincts of +his ancestors? + +Then all at once Lennox halted in his tracks, evidently with no other +purpose than to study the tall form that now was walking up the trail in +front of him. And he uttered a little exclamation of amazement. + +"Listen, Dan!" he cried suddenly. "Haven't you ever been in the woods +before?" + +Dan turned, smiling. "No. What have I done now?" + +"What have you done! You're doing something that I never saw a +tenderfoot do in my life, before. I've known men to hunt for +years--literally years--and not know how to do it. And that is--to place +your feet." + +"Place my feet? I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"I mean--to walk silently. To stalk, damn it, Dan! This brush is dry. +It's dry as tinder. A cougar can get over it like so much smoke, and a +man who's lived all his life in the hills can usually climb a ridge and +not make any more noise than a young avalanche. Just now I had a feeling +that I wasn't hearing you walk, and I thought my ears must be going back +on me. I stopped to see. You were doing it, Dan. You were +stalking--putting down your feet like a cat. It's the hardest thing to +learn there is, and you're doing it the first half-hour." + +Dan laughed, delighted more than he cared to show. "Well, what of it?" +he asked. + +"What of it? That's it--what of it. And what caused it, and all about +it. Go on and let me think." + +The result of all this thought was at least to hover in the near +vicinity of a certain conclusion. That conclusion was that at least a +few of the characteristics of his grandfather had been passed down to +Dan. It meant that possibly, if time remained, he would not turn out +such a weakling, after all. Of course his courage, his nerve, had yet to +be tested; but the fact remained that long generations of frontiersmen +ancestors had left this influence upon him. The wild was calling to him, +wakening instincts long smothered in cities, but sure and true as ever. +It was the beginning of regeneration. Voices of the long past were +speaking to him, and the Failings once more had begun to run true to +form. Inherited tendencies were in a moment changing this weak, diseased +youth into a frontiersman and wilderness inhabitant such as his +ancestors had been before him. + +But before ever Lennox had a chance to think all around the subject, to +actually convince himself that Dan really was a throwback and recurrence +of type, there ensued on that gaunt ridge a curious adventure. The test +of nerve and courage was nearer than either of them had guessed. + +They were slipping along over the pine needles, their eyes intent on the +trail ahead. And then Lennox saw a curious thing. He beheld Dan suddenly +stop in the trail and turn his eyes towards a heavy thicket that lay +perhaps one hundred yards to their right. For an instant he looked +almost like a wild creature himself. His head was lowered, as if he were +listening. His muscles were set and ready. + +Lennox had prided himself that he had retained all the powers of his +five senses, and that few men in the mountains had keener ears than he. +Yet it was truth that at first he only knew the silence, and the stir +and pulse of his own blood. He assumed then that Dan was watching +something that from his position, twenty feet behind, he could not see. +He tried to probe the thickets with his eyes. + +Then Dan whispered. Ever so soft a sound, but yet distinct in the +silence. "There's something living in that thicket." + +Then Lennox heard it too. As they stood still, the sound became ever +clearer and more pronounced. Some living creature was advancing toward +them; and twigs were cracking beneath its feet. The sounds were rather +subdued, and yet, as the animal approached, both of them instinctively +knew that they were extremely loud for the usual footsteps of any of the +wild creatures. + +"What is it?" Dan asked quietly. + +Lennox was so intrigued by the sounds that he was not even observant of +the peculiar, subdued quality in Dan's voice. Otherwise, he would have +wondered at it. "I'm free to confess I don't know," he said. "It's +booming right towards us, like most animals don't care to do. Of course +it may be a human being. You must watch out for that." + +They waited. The sound ended. They stood straining for a long moment +without speech. + +"That was the dumdest thing!" Lennox went on. "Of course it might have +been a bear--you never know what they're going to do. It might have got +sight of us and turned off. But I can't believe that it was just a +deer--" + +But then his words chopped squarely off in his throat. The plodding +advance commenced again. And the next instant a gray form revealed +itself at the edge of the thicket. + +It was Graycoat, half-blind with his madness, and desperate in his +agony. + +There was no more deadly thing in all the hills than he. Even the bite +of a rattlesnake would have been welcomed beside his. He stood a long +instant, and all his instincts and reflexes that would have ordinarily +made him flee in abject terror were thwarted and twisted by the fever of +his madness. He stared a moment at the two figures, and his red eyes +could not interpret them. They were simply foes, for it was true that +when this racking agony was upon him, even lifeless trees seemed foes +sometimes. He seemed eerie and unreal as he gazed at them out of his +burning eyes; and the white foam gathered at his fangs. And then, wholly +without warning, he charged down at them. + +He came with unbelievable speed. The elder Lennox cried once in warning +and cursed himself for venturing forth on the ridge without a gun. He +was fully twenty feet distant from Dan; yet he saw in an instant his +only course. This was no time to trust their lives to the marksmanship +of an amateur. He sprang towards Dan, intending to wrench the weapon +from his hand. + +But he didn't achieve his purpose. At the first step his foot caught in +a projecting root, and he was shot to his face on the trail. But a long +life in the wilderness had developed Lennox's reflexes to an abnormal +degree; many crises had taught him muscle and nerve control; and only +for a fraction of an instant, a period of time that few instruments are +fine enough to measure, did he lie supinely upon the ground. He rolled +on, into a position of defense. But he knew now he could not reach the +younger man before the mad coyote would be upon them. The matter was out +of his hands. Everything depended on the aim and self-control of the +tenderfoot. + +And at the same instant he wondered, so intensely that all other mental +processes were subjugated to it, why he had not heard Dan shoot. + +He looked up, and the whole weird picture was thrown upon the retina of +his eyes. The coyote was still racing straight toward Dan, a gray demon +that in his madness was more terrible than any charging bear or elk. For +there is an element of horror about the insane, whether beasts or men, +that cannot be denied. Both men felt it, with a chill that seemed to +penetrate clear to their hearts. The eyes flamed, the white fangs of +Graycoat caught the sunlight. And Dan stood erect in his path, his rifle +half raised to his shoulder; and even in that first frenzied instant in +which Lennox looked at him, he saw there was a strange impassiveness, a +singular imperturbability on his face. + +"Shoot, man!" Lennox shouted. "What are you waiting for?" + +But Dan didn't shoot. His hand whipped to his face, and he snatched off +his thick-lensed glasses. The eyes that were revealed were narrow and +deeply intent. And by now, the frenzied coyote was not fifty feet +distant. + +All that had occurred since the animal charged had possibly taken five +seconds. Sometimes five seconds is just a breath; but as Lennox waited +for Dan to shoot, it seemed like a period wholly without limit. He +wondered if the younger man had fallen into that strange paralysis that +a great terror sometimes imbues. "Shoot!" he screamed again. + +But it is doubtful if Dan even heard his shout. At that instant his gun +slid into place, his head lowered, his eyes seemed to burn along the +glittering barrel. His finger pressed back against the trigger, and the +roar of the report rocked through the summer air. + +The gun was of large caliber; and no living creature could stand against +the furious, shocking power of the great bullet. The lead went straight +home, full through the neck and slanting down through the breast, and +the coyote recoiled as if an irresistible hand had smitten him. It is +doubtful if there was even a muscular quiver after Graycoat struck the +ground, not twenty feet from where Dan stood. And the rifle report +echoed back to find only silence. + +Lennox got up off the ground and moved over toward the dead coyote. He +looked a long time at the gray body. And then he stepped back to where +Dan waited on the trail. + +"I take it all back," he said simply. + +"You take what back?" + +"What I thought about you--that the Failing line had gone to the dogs. +I'll never call you a tenderfoot again." + +"You are very kind," Dan answered. He looked rather tired, but was +wholly unshaken. For an instant Lennox looked at his eyes and his steady +hands. + +"But tell me one thing," Lennox asked. "I saw the way you looked down +the barrel. I could see how firm you held the rifle--the way you kept +your head. And that is all like your grandfather. But why, when you had +a repeating rifle, did you wait so long to shoot?" + +"I just had one cartridge in my gun. I fired nine times back at the +trees and only re-loaded once. I didn't think of it until the coyote +charged." + +Lennox's answer was the last thing in the world to be expected. He +opened his straight mouth and uttered a great, boyish yell of joy. His +eyes seemed to light. It is a phenomenon that is ever so much oftener +imagined than really seen; but the sudden, elated sparkle that came in +those gray orbs was past denial. The eyes of the two men met, and Lennox +shook him by the shoulder. + +"You're not Dan Failing's grandson--you're Dan Failing himself!" he +shouted. "No one but him would have had the self-control to wait till +the game was almost on top of him--no one but him would have kept his +head in a time like this. You're Dan Failing himself, I tell you, come +back to earth. Grandson nothing! You're a throwback, and now you've got +those glasses off, I can see his eyes looking right out of yours. Step +on 'em, Dan. You'll never need 'em again. And give up that idea of dying +in four months right now; I'm going to make you live. We'll fight that +disease to a finish--and win!" + +And that is the way that Dan Failing came into his heritage in the land +of his own people, and in which a new spirit was born in him to +fight--and win--and live. + + + + +BOOK TWO + +THE DEBT + + + + +I + + +September was at its last days on the Umpqua Divide,--that far +wilderness of endless, tree-clad ridges where Dan Failing had gone for +his last days. September, in this place, was a season all by itself. It +wasn't exactly summer, because already a little silver sheath of ice +formed on the lakes in the morning; and the days were clamping down in +length so fast that Whisperfoot the cougar had time for a dozen killings +in a single night. Fall only begins when the rains start; and there +hadn't been a trickle of rain since April. It was rather a cross between +the two seasons,--the rag-tail of summer and the prelude of fall. + +It was true that the leaves were shedding from the underbrush. They came +yellow and they came red, and the north wind, always the first breath of +winter, blew them in all directions. They made a perfect background for +the tawny tints of Whisperfoot, and quite often the near-sighted deer +would walk right up to him without detecting him. But the cougar always +saw to it they didn't do it a second time. It had been a particularly +bad season for Whisperfoot, and he was glad that his luck had changed. +The woods were so dry from the long drought that even he--and as all men +know, he is one of the most silent creatures in the wilderness when he +wants to be, which are the times that he doesn't want to make as much +noise as a steam engine--found it hard to crawl down a deer trail +without being heard. The twigs would sometimes crack beneath his feet, +and this is a disgrace with any cougar. Their first lessons are to learn +to walk with silence. + +Woof the bear loved this month above all others. It wasn't that he +needed protective coloring. He was not a hunter at all, except of grubs +and berries and such small fry. He had a black coat and a clumsy stride; +and he couldn't have caught a deer if his life had depended upon it. But +he did like to shuffle through the fallen leaves and make beds of them +in the warm afternoons; and besides, the berries were always biggest and +ripest in September. The bee trees were almost full of honey. Even the +fat beetles under the stumps were many and lazy. + +Everywhere the forest people were preparing for the winter that would +fall so quickly when these golden September days were done. The Under +Plane of the forest--those smaller peoples that live in the dust and +have beautiful, tropical forests in the ferns--found themselves digging +holes and filling them with stores of food. Of course they had no idea +on earth why they were doing it, except that a quiver at the end of +their tails told them to do so; but the result was entirely the same. +They would have a shelter for the winter. Certain of the birds were +beginning to wonder what the land was like to the south, and now and +then waking up in the crisp dawns with decided longings for travel. The +young mallards on the lakes were particularly restless, and occasionally +a long flock of them would rise in the morning from the blue waters with +a glint of wings,--and quite fail to come back. And one night all the +forest listened to the wail of the first flock of south-going geese. But +the main army of waterfowl would of course not pass until fall came in +reality. + +But the most noticeable change of all, in these last days of summer, was +a distinct tone of sadness that sounded throughout the forest. Of course +the wilderness note is always somewhat sad; but now, as the leaves fell +and the grasses died, it seemed particularly pronounced. All the forest +voices added to it,--the wail of the geese, the sad fluttering of +fallen leaves, and even the whisper of the north wind. The pines seemed +darker, and now and then gray clouds gathered, promised rain, but passed +without dropping their burdens on the parched hillsides. Of course all +the tones and voices of the wilderness sound clearest at night--for that +is the time that the forest really comes to life--and Dan Failing, +sitting in front of Lennox's house, watching the late September moon +rise over Bald Mountain, could hear them very plainly. + +It was true that in the two months he had spent in the mountains he had +learned to be very receptive to the voices of the wilderness. Lennox had +not been mistaken in thinking him a natural woodsman. He had imagination +and insight and sympathy; but most of all he had a heritage of wood lore +from his frontiersmen ancestors. Two months before he had been a +resident of cities. Now the wilderness had claimed him, body and soul. + +These had been rare days. At first he had to limit his expeditions to a +few miles each day, and even then he would come in at night staggering +from weariness. He climbed hills that seemed to tear his diseased lungs +to shreds. Lennox wouldn't have been afraid, in a crisis, to trust his +marksmanship now. He had the natural cold nerve of a marksman, and one +twilight he brought the body of a lynx tumbling through the branches of +a pine at a distance of two hundred yards. A shotgun is never a +mountaineer's weapon--except a sawed-off specimen for family +contingencies--yet Dan acquired a certain measure of skill at small game +hunting, too. He got so he could shatter a grouse out of the air in the +half of a second or so in which its bronze wings glinted in the +shrubbery; and when a man may do this a fair number of times out of ten, +he is on the straight road toward greatness. + +Then there came a day when Dan caught his first steelhead in the North +Fork. There was no finer sport in the whole West than this,--the play of +the fly, the strike, the electric jar that carries along the line and +through the arm and into the soul from where it is never quite effaced, +and finally the furious strife and exultant throb when the fish is +hooked. There is no more beautiful thing in the wilderness world than a +steelhead trout in action. He simply seems to dance on the surface of +the water, leaping again and again, and racing at an unheard-of speed +down the ripples. He weighs only from three to fifteen pounds. But now +and again amateur fishermen without souls have tried to pull him in with +main strength, and are still somewhat dazed by the result. It might be +done with a steel cable, but an ordinary line or leader breaks like a +cobweb. When his majesty the steelhead takes the fly and decides to run, +it can be learned after a time that the one thing that may be done is to +let out all the line and with prayer and humbleness try to keep up with +him. + +Dan fished for lake trout in the lakes of the plateau; he shot waterfowl +in the tule marshes; he hunted all manner of living things with his +camera. But most of all he simply studied, as his frontiersmen ancestors +had done before him. He found unceasing delight in the sagacity of the +bear, the grace of the felines, the beauty of the deer. He knew the +chipmunks and the gray squirrels and the snowshoe rabbits. And every day +his muscles had hardened and his gaunt frame had filled out. + +He no longer wore his glasses. Every day his eyes had strengthened. He +could see more clearly now, with his unaided eyes, than he had ever seen +before with the help of the lens. And the moonlight came down through a +rift in the trees and showed that his face had changed too. It was no +longer so white. The eyes were more intent. The lips were straighter. + +"It's been two months," Silas Lennox told him, "half the four that you +gave yourself after you arrived here. And you're twice as good now as +when you came." + +Dan nodded. "Twice! Ten times as good! I was a wreck when I came. To-day +I climbed halfway up Baldy--within a half mile of Snowbird's +cabin--without stopping to rest." + +Lennox looked thoughtful. More than once, of late, Dan had climbed up +toward Snowbird's cabin. It was true that his guest and his daughter had +become the best of companions in the two months; but on second thought, +Lennox was not in the least afraid of complications. The love of the +mountain women does not go out to physical inferiors. "Whoever gets +her," he had said, "will have to tame her," and his words still held +good. The mountain women rarely mistook a maternal tenderness for an +appealing man for love. It wasn't that Dan was weak except from the +ravages of his disease; but he was still a long way from Snowbird's +ideal. + +And the explanation was simply that life in the mountains gets down to a +primitive basis, and its laws are the laws of the cave. Emotions are +simple and direct, dangers are real, and the family relations have +remained unchanged since the first days of the race. Men do not woo one +another's wives in the mountains. There is no softness, no compromise: +the male of the species provides, and the female keeps the hut. It is +good, the mountain women know, when the snows come, to have a strong arm +to lean upon. The man of strong muscles, of quick aim, of cool nerve in +a crisis is the man that can be safely counted on not to leave a +youthful widow to a lone battle for existence. Although Dan had courage +and that same rigid self-control that was an old quality in his breed, +he was still a long way from a physically strong man. It was still an +even break whether he would ever wholly recover from his malady. + +But Dan was not thinking about this now. All his perceptions had +sharpened down to the finest focal point, and he was trying to catch the +spirit of the endless forest that stretched in front of the house. The +moon was above the pines at last, and its light was a magic. He sat +breathless, his eyes intent on the silvery patches between the trees. +Now and then he saw a shadow waver. + +His pipe had gone out, and for a long time Lennox hadn't spoken. He +seemed to be straining too, with ineffective senses, trying to recognize +and name the faint sounds that came so tingling and tremulous out of the +darkness. As always, they heard the stir and rustle of the gnawing +people: the chipmunks in the shrubbery, the gophers who, like blind +misers, had ventured forth from their dark burrows; and perhaps even the +scaly glide of those most-dreaded poison people that had lairs in the +rock piles. + +Then, more distinct still, they heard the far-off yowl of a cougar. Yet +it wasn't quite like the cougar utterances that Dan had heard on +previous nights. It was not so high, so piercing and triumphant; but had +rather an angry, snarling tone made up of _ows_ and broad, nasal _yahs_. +It came tingling up through hundreds of yards of still forest; and both +of them leaned forward. + +"Another deer killed," Dan suggested softly. + +"No. Not this time. He missed, and he's mad about it. They often snarl +that way when they miss their stroke, just like an angry cat. But +listen--" + +Again they heard a sound, and from some far-lying ridge, they heard a +curious echo. So far it had come that only a tremor of it remained; yet +every accent and intonation was perfect, and Dan was dimly reminded of +some work of art cunningly wrought in miniature. In one quality alone it +resembled the cougar's cry. It was unquestionably a wilderness +voice,--no sound made by men or the instruments of men; and like the +cougar's cry, it was simply imbued with the barbaric spirit of the wild. +But while the cougar had simply yowled in disappointment, a sound wholly +without rhythm or harmony, this sound was after the manner of a song, +rising and falling unutterably wild and strange. + + + + +II + + +Dan felt that at last the wilderness itself was speaking to him. He had +waited a long time to hear its voice. His thought went back to the wise +men of the ancient world, waiting to hear the riddle of the universe +from the lips of the Sphinx, and how he himself--more in his unconscious +self, rather than conscious--had sought the eternal riddle of the +wilderness. It had seemed to him that if once he could make it speak, if +he could make it break for one instant its great, brooding silence, that +the whole mystery and meaning of life would be in a measure revealed. He +had asked questions--never in the form of words but only ineffable +yearnings of his soul--and at last it had responded. The strange rising +and falling song was its own voice, the articulation of the very heart +and soul of the wilderness. + +And because it was, it was also the song of life itself,--life in the +raw, life as it is when all the superficialities that blunt the vision +had been struck away. Dan had known that it would be thus. It brought +strange pictures to his mind. He saw the winter snows, the spirits of +Cold and Famine walking over them. He saw Fear in many guises--in the +forest fire, in the landslide, in the lightning cleaving the sky. In the +song were centered and made clear all the many lesser voices with which +the forest had spoken to him these two months and which he had but dimly +understood,--the passion, the exultation, the blood-lust, the strength, +the cruelty, the remorseless, unceasing struggle for existence that +makes the wilderness an eternal battle ground. But over it all was +sadness. He couldn't doubt that. He heard it all too plainly. The wild +was revealed to him as it never had been before. + +"It's the wolf pack," Lennox told him softly. "As long as I have been in +the mountains, it always hits me the same. The wolves have just joined +together for the fall rutting. There's not another song like it in the +whole world." + +Dan could readily believe it. The two men sat still a long time, hoping +that they might hear the song again. And then they got up and moved +across the cleared field to the ridge beyond. The silence closed deeper +around them. + +"Then it means the end of the summer?" Dan asked. + +"In a way, but yet we don't count the summer ended until the rains +break. Heavens, I wish they would start! I've never seen the hills so +dry, and I'm afraid that either Bert Cranston or some of his friends +will decide it's time to make a little money fighting forest fires. Dan, +I'm suspicious of that gang. I believe they've got a regular arson ring, +maybe with unscrupulous stockmen behind them, and perhaps just a +penny-winning deal of their own. I suppose you know about Landy +Hildreth,--how he's promised to turn State's evidence that will send +about a dozen of these vipers to the penitentiary?" + +"Snowbird told me something about it." + +"He's got a cabin over toward the marshes, and it has come to me that +he's going to start to-morrow, or maybe has already started to-day, down +into the valley to give his evidence. Of course, that is deeply +confidential between you and me. If the gang knew about it, he'd never +get through the thickets alive." + +But Dan was hardly listening. His attention was caught by the hushed, +intermittent sounds that are always to be heard, if one listens keenly +enough, in the wilderness at night. "I wish the pack would sound again," +he said. "I suppose it was hunting." + +"Of course. And there is no living thing in these woods that can stand +against a wolf pack in its full strength." + +"Except man, of course." + +"A strong man, with an accurate rifle, of course, and except possibly in +the starving times in winter he'd never have to fight them. All the +beasts of prey are out to-night. You see, Dan, when the moon shines, the +deer feed at night instead of in the twilights and the dawn. And of +course the wolves and the cougars hunt the deer. It may be that they are +running cattle, or even sheep." + +But Dan's imagination was afire. He wasn't content yet. "They couldn't +be--hunting man?" he asked. + +"No. If it was midwinter and the pack was starving, we'd have to listen +better. It always looked to me as if the wild creatures had a law +against killing men, just as humans have. They've learned it doesn't +pay--something the wolves and bear of Europe and Asia haven't found out. +The naturalists say that the reason is rather simple--that the European +peasant, his soul scared out of him by the government he lived under, +has always fled from wild beasts. They were tillers of the soil, and +they carried hoes instead of guns. They never put the fear of God into +the animals and as a result there are quite a number of true stories +about tigers and wolves that aren't pleasant to listen to. But our own +frontiersmen were not men to stand any nonsense from wolves or cougars. +They had guns, and they knew how to use them. And they were preceded by +as brave and as warlike a race as ever lived on the earth--armed with +bows and arrows. Any animal that hunted men was immediately killed, and +the rest found out it didn't pay." + +"Just as human beings have found out the same thing--that it doesn't pay +to hunt their fellow men. The laws of life as well as the laws of +nations are against it." + +But the words sounded weak and dim under the weight of the throbbing +darkness; and Dan couldn't get away from the idea that the codes of life +by which most men lived were forgotten quickly in the shadows of the +pines. Even as he spoke, man was hunting man on the distant ridge where +Whisperfoot had howled. + + * * * * * + +Bert Cranston, head of the arson ring that operated on the Umpqua +Divide, was not only beyond the pale in regard to the laws of the +valleys, but he could have learned valuable lessons from the beasts in +regard to keeping the laws of the hills. The forest creatures do not +hunt their own species, nor do they normally hunt men. The moon looked +down to find Bert Cranston waiting on a certain trail that wound down to +the settlements, his rifle loaded and ready for another kind of game +than deer or wolf. He was waiting for Landy Hildreth; and the greeting +he had for him was to destroy all chances of the prosecuting attorney in +the valley below learning certain names that he particularly wanted to +know. + +There is always a quality of unreality about a moonlit scene. Just what +causes it isn't easy to explain, unless the soft blend of light and +shadow entirely destroys the perspective. Old ruins will sometimes seem +like great, misty ghosts of long-dead cities; trees will turn to silver; +phantoms will gather in family groups under the cliffs; plain hills and +valleys will become, in an instant, the misty vales of Fairyland. The +scene on that distant ridge of the Divide partook of this quality to an +astounding degree; and it would have made a picture no mortal memory +could have possibly forgotten. + +There was no breath of wind. The great pines, tall and dark past belief, +stood absolutely motionless, like strange pillars of ebony. The whole +ridge was splotched with patches of moonlight, and the trail, dimming as +the eyes followed it, wound away into the utter darkness. Bert Cranston +knelt in a brush covert, his rifle loaded and ready in his lean, dark +hands. + +No wolf that ran the ridges, no cougar that waited on the deer trails +knew a wilder passion, a more terrible blood-lust than he. It showed in +his eyes, narrow and never resting from their watch of the trail; it was +in his posture; and it revealed itself unmistakably in the curl of his +lips. Something like hot steam was in his brain, blurring his sight and +heating his blood. + +The pine needles hung wholly motionless above his head; but yet the dead +leaves on which he knelt crinkled and rustled under him. Only the +keenest ear could have heard the sound; and possibly in his madness, +Cranston himself was not aware of it. And one would have wondered a long +time as to what caused it. It was simply that he was shivering all over +with hate and fury. + +A twig cracked, far on the ridge above him. He leaned forward, peering, +and the moonlight showed his face in unsparing detail. It revealed the +deep lines, the terrible, drawn lips, the ugly hair long over the dark +ears. His strong hands tightened upon the breech of the rifle. His wiry +figure grew tense. + +Of course it wouldn't do to let his prey come too close. Landy Hildreth +was a good shot too, young as Cranston, and of equal strength; and no +sporting chance could be taken in this hunting. Cranston had no +intention of giving his enemy even the slightest chance to defend +himself. If Hildreth got down into the valley, his testimony would make +short work of the arson ring. He had the goods; he had been a member of +the disreputable crowd himself. + +The man's steps were quite distinct by now. Cranston heard him fighting +his way through the brush thickets, and once a flock of grouse, +frightened from their perches by the approaching figure, flew down the +trail in front. Cranston pressed back the hammer of his rifle. The click +sounded loud in the silence. He had grown tense and still, and the +leaves no longer rustled. + +His eyes were intent on a little clearing, possibly one hundred yards up +the trail. The trail itself went straight through it. And in an instant +more, Hildreth pushed through the buckbrush and stood revealed in the +moonlight. + +If there is one quality that means success in the mountains it is +constant, unceasing self-control. Cranston thought that he had it. He +had known the hard schools of the hills; and he thought no circumstance +could break the rigid discipline in which his mind and nerves held his +muscles. But perhaps he had waited too long for Hildreth to come; and +the strain had told on him. He had sworn to take no false steps; that +every motion he made should be cool and sure. He didn't want to attract +Hildreth's attention by any sudden movement. All must be cautious and +stealthy. But in spite of all these good resolutions, Cranston's gun +simply leaped to his shoulder in one convulsive motion at the first +glimpse of his enemy as he emerged into the moonlight. + +The end of the barrel struck a branch of the shrubbery as it went up. It +was only a soft sound; but in the utter silence it traveled far. But a +noise in the brush might not have been enough in itself to alarm +Hildreth. A deer springing up in the trail, or even a lesser creature, +might make as pronounced a sound. It was true that even unaccompanied by +any other suspicious circumstances, the man would have become instantly +alert and watchful; but it was extremely doubtful that his muscular +reaction would have been the same. But the gun barrel caught the +moonlight as it leaped, and Hildreth saw its glint in the darkness. + +It was only a flash. But yet there is no other object in the material +world that glints exactly like a gun barrel in the light. It has a look +all its own. It is even more distinctive in the sunlight, and now and +again men have owed their lives to a momentary glitter across a +half-mile of forest. Of course the ordinary, peaceful, God-fearing man, +walking down a trail at night, likely would not have given the gleam +more than an instant's thought, a momentary breathlessness in which the +throat closes and the muscles set; and it is more than probable that the +sleeping senses would not have interpreted it at all. But Hildreth was +looking for trouble. He had dreaded this long walk to the settlements +more than any experience of his life. He didn't know why the letter he +had written, asking for an armed escort down to the courts, had not +brought results. But it was wholly possible that Cranston would have +answered this question for him. This same letter had fallen into a +certain soiled, deadly pair of hands which was the last place in the +world that Hildreth would have chosen, and it had been all the evidence +that was needed, at the meeting of the ring the night before, to adjudge +Hildreth a merciless and immediate end. Hildreth would have preferred to +wait in the hills and possibly to write another letter, but a chill that +kept growing at his finger tips forbade it. And all these things +combined to stretch his nerves almost to the breaking point as he stole +along the moonlit trail under the pines. + +A moment before the rush and whir of the grouse flock had dried the +roof of his mouth with terror. The tall trees appalled him, the shadows +fell upon his spirit. And when he heard this final sound, when he saw +the glint that might so easily have been a gun-barrel, his nerves and +muscles reacted at once. Not even a fraction of a second intervened. His +gun flashed up, just as a small-game shooter hurls his weapon when a +mallard glints above the decoys, and a little, angry cylinder of flame +darted, as a snake's head darts, from the muzzle. + +Hildreth didn't take aim. There wasn't time. The report roared in the +darkness; the bullet sang harmlessly and thudded into the earth; and +both of them were the last things in the world that Cranston had +expected. And they were not a moment too soon. Even at that instant, his +finger was closing down upon the trigger, Hildreth standing clear and +revealed through the sights. The nervous response that few men in the +world would be self-disciplined enough to prevent occurred at the same +instant that he pressed the trigger. His own fire answered, so near to +the other that both of them sounded as one report. + +Most hunters can usually tell, even if they cannot see their game fall, +whether they have hit or missed. This was one of the few times in his +life that Cranston could not have told. He knew that as his finger +pressed he had held as accurate a "bead" as at any time in his life. He +did not know still another circumstance,--that in the moonlight he had +overestimated the distance to the clearing, and instead of one hundreds +yards it was scarcely fifty. He had held rather high. And he looked up, +unknowing whether he had succeeded or whether he was face to face with +the prospect of a duel to the death in the darkness. + +And all he saw was Hildreth, rocking back and forth in the moonlight,--a +strange picture that he was never entirely to forget. It was a motion +that no man could pretend. And he knew he had not missed. + +He waited till he saw the form of his enemy rock down, face half-buried +in the pine needles. It never even occurred to him to approach to see if +he had made a clean kill. He had held on the breast and he had a world +of confidence in his great, shocking, big-game rifle. Besides, the rifle +fire might attract some hunter in the hills; and there would be time in +the morning to return to the body and make certain little investigations +that he had in mind. And running back down the trail, he missed the +sight of Hildreth dragging his wounded body, like an injured hare, into +the shelter of the thickets. + + + + +III + + +Whisperfoot, that great coward, came out of his brush-covert when the +moon rose. It was not his usual rising time. Ordinarily he found his +best hunting in the eerie light of the twilight hour; but for certain +reasons, his knowledge of which would be extremely difficult to explain, +he let this time go by in slumber. The general verdict of mankind has +decreed that animals cannot reason. Therefore it is somewhat awkward to +explain how Whisperfoot knew that he needn't be in a hurry, that the +moon would soon be up, and the deer would be feeding in their light. But +know all these things he did, act upon them he also did, and it all came +to the same in the end. Whether or not he could reason didn't affect the +fact that a certain chipmunk, standing at the threshold of his house to +glimpse the moonlit forest, saw him come slipping like a cloud of brown +smoke from his lair a full hour after the little creature had every +right to think that he had gone to his hunting,--and straightway tumbled +back into his house with a near attack of heart failure. + +But the truth was that the chipmunk was presuming upon his own +desirability as food. His fear really wasn't justified. It would not be +altogether true to say that Whisperfoot never ate chipmunks. Sometimes +in winter, and sometimes in the dawns after an unsuccessful hunt, he ate +things a great deal smaller and many times more disagreeable than +chipmunks. But the great cat is always very proud when he first leaves +his lair. He won't look at anything smaller than a horned buck. He is a +great deal like a human hunter who will pass up a lone teal on the way +out and slay a pair of his own live-duck decoys on the way back. + +Whisperfoot had slept almost since dawn. It is a significant quality in +the felines that they simply cannot keep in condition without hours and +hours of sleep. It is true that they are highly nervous creatures, +sensualists of the worst, and living intensely from twilight to dawn; +and they burn up more nervous energy in a night than Urson, the +porcupine, does in a year. In this matter of sleeping, they are in a +direct contrast to the wolves, who seemingly never sleep at all, unless +it is with one eye open, and in still greater contrast to the king of +all beasts, the elephant, who is said to slumber less per night than +that great electrical wizard whom all men know and praise. + +The great cat came out yawning, as graceful a thing as treads upon the +earth. He was almost nine feet long from the tip of his nose to the end +of his tail, and he weighed as much as many a full-grown man. And he +fairly rippled when he walked, seemingly without effort, almost without +resting his cushions on the ground. He stood and yawned insolently, for +all the forest world to see. He rather hoped that the chipmunk, staring +with beady eyes from his doorway, did see him. He would just as soon +that Woof's little son, the bear cub, should see him too. But he wasn't +so particular about Woof himself, or the wolf pack whose song had just +wakened him. And above all things, he wanted to keep out of the sight of +men. + +For when all things are said and done, there were few bigger cowards in +the whole wilderness world than Whisperfoot. A good many people think +that Graycoat the coyote could take lessons from him in this respect. +But others, knowing how a hunter is brought in occasionally with almost +all human resemblance gone from him because a cougar charged in his +death agony, think this is unfair to the larger animal. And it is true +that a full-grown cougar will sometimes attack horned cattle, something +that no American animal cares to do unless he wants a good fight on his +paws and of which the very thought would throw Graycoat into a spasm; +and there have been even stranger stories, if one could quite believe +them. A certain measure of respect must be extended to any animal that +will hunt the great bull elk, for to miss the stroke and get caught +beneath the churning, lashing, slashing, razor-edged front hoofs is +simply death, painful and without delay. But the difficulty lies in the +fact that these things are not done in the ordinary, rational blood of +hunting. What an animal does in its death agony, or to protect its +young, what great game it follows in the starving times of winter, can +be put to neither its debit nor its credit. A coyote will charge when +mad. A raccoon will put up a wicked fight when cornered. A hen will peck +at the hand that robs her nest. When hunting was fairly good, +Whisperfoot avoided the elk and steer almost as punctiliously as he +avoided men, which is saying very much indeed; and any kind of terrier +could usually drive him straight up a tree. + +But he did like to pretend to be very great and terrible among the +smaller forest creatures. And he was Fear itself to the deer. A human +hunter who would kill two deer a week for fifty-two weeks would be +called a much uglier name than poacher; but yet this had been +Whisperfoot's record, on and off, ever since his second year. Many a +great buck wore the scar of the full stroke,--after which Whisperfoot +had lost his hold. Many a fawn had crouched panting with terror in the +thickets at just a tawny light on the gnarled limb of a pine. Many a doe +would grow great-eyed and terrified at just his strange, pungent smell +on the wind. + +He yawned again, and his fangs looked white and abnormally large in the +moonlight. His great, green eyes were still clouded and languorous from +sleep. Then he began to steal up the ridge toward his hunting grounds. +Dry as the thickets were, still he seemed to traverse them with almost +absolute silence. It was a curious thing that he walked straight in the +face of the soft wind that came down from the snow fields, and yet there +wasn't a weathercock to be seen anywhere. And neither had the chipmunk +seen him wet a paw and hold it up, after the approved fashion of holding +up a finger. He had a better way of knowing,--a chill at the end of his +whiskers. + +In fact, the other forest creatures did not see him at all. He took very +great precautions that they shouldn't. Whisperfoot was not a +long-distance runner, and his whole success depended on a surprise +attack, either by stalking or from ambush. In this he is different from +his fellow cowards, the wolves. Whisperfoot catches his meat fresh, +before terror has time to steal out of the heart and poison it; and +thus, he tells his cubs, he is a higher creature than the wolves. He +kept to the deepest shadow, sometimes the long, strange profile of a +pine, sometimes just the thickets of buckbrush. + +And by now, he no longer cared to yawn. He was wide awake. The sleep had +gone out of his eyes and left them swimming in a curious, blue-green +fire. And the hunting madness was getting to him: that wild, exultant +fever that comes fresh to all the hunting creatures as soon as the night +comes down. + +The little, breathless night sounds in the brush around him seemed to +madden him. They made a song to him, a strange, wild melody that even +such frontiersmen as Dan and Lennox could not experience. A thousand +smells brushed down to him on the wind, more potent than any wine or +lust. He began to tremble all over with rapture and excitement. But +unlike Cranston's trembling, no wilderness ear was keen enough to hear +the leaves rustling beneath him. + +His excitement did not affect his hunting skill at all. In fact, he +couldn't succeed without it. A human hunter, with the same excitement +and fever, would have been rendered impotent long since. His aim would +be shattered, he would make false steps to frighten the game, and not +even Urson, the porcupine, would really have cause to fear him. The +reason is rather simple. Man has lived a civilized existence for so long +that many of the traits that make him a successful hunter have to be +laboriously re-learned. As soon as he becomes excited, he forgets his +training. The hunting cunning of a cougar, however, is inborn, and like +a great pianist, he can usually do better when he is warmed up to his +work. + +Men would cross many seas for a few minutes of such wild, nerve-tingling +rapture as Whisperfoot knew as he crept into his hunting grounds. Ever +he went more cautiously, his tawny body lowering. And just as he reached +the ridge top he heard his first game. + +It was just a rustle in the thickets at one side. Whisperfoot stopped +dead still, then slowly lowered his body. The only motion left was the +sinuous whipping of his tail. But he couldn't identify his game yet. He +peered with fiery eyes into the darkness. He was almost in leaping range +already. + +But at once he knew that the creature that grunted and stirred in the +brush was not a deer. A deer would have detected his presence long +since, as the animal was at one side of him, instead of in front, and +would have caught his scent. Then, the wind blowing straighter, he +recognized the creature. It was just old Urson, the porcupine. + +For very good reasons, Whisperfoot never attacked Urson except in +moments of utmost need. It was extremely doubtful that he spared him for +the same reason that he was spared by the wisest of the +mountaineers,--that he was game to be taken when starving and when no +other could be procured. It was rather that he was very awkward to kill +and considerably worse to eat. + +It is better to dine on nightshade, says a forest law, than to eat a +porcupine; for the former innocent-looking little berry is almost as +fast a death as a rifle bullet, and the flesh of the latter animal will +torture with a hundred red-hot fires in the vitals before its eater is +driven to its eternal lair. But it isn't that the porcupine's flesh is +poison. It is just that an incautious bite on its armored body will fill +the throat and mouth with spines, needle points that work ever deeper +until they result in death. And so it is quite a tribute to +Whisperfoot's intelligence that he had killed and devoured no less than +a dozen porcupines and still lived to tell the tale. + +He simply knew how to handle them. He knew an upward scoop with the end +of his claws that would tip the creature over; and then he would pounce +on the unprotected abdomen. But it was considerable trouble, and he had +to be careful of the spines all the time he was eating,--a particular +annoyance to one who habitually and savagely bolts his food. So he made +a careful detour about Urson and continued on his way. He heard the +latter squealing and rattling his quills behind him. + + + + +IV + + +Shortly after nine o'clock, Whisperfoot encountered his first herd of +deer. But they caught his scent and scattered before he could get up to +them. He met Woof, grunting through the underbrush, and again he +punctiliously, but with wretched spirit, left the trail. A fight with +Woof the bear was one of the most unpleasant experiences that could be +imagined. He had a pair of strong arms of which one embrace of a +cougar's body meant death in one long shriek of pain. Of course they +didn't fight often. They had entirely opposite interests. The bear was a +berry-eater and a honey-grubber, and the cougar cared too much for his +own life and beauty to tackle Woof in a hunting way. + +A fawn leaped from the thicket in front of him, startled by his sound in +the thicket. The truth was, Whisperfoot had made a wholly unjustified +misstep on a dry twig, just at the crucial moment. Perhaps it was the +fault of Woof, whose presence had driven Whisperfoot from the trail, +and perhaps because old age and stiffness was coming upon him. But +neither of these facts appeased his anger. He could scarcely suppress a +snarl of fury and disappointment. + +He continued along the ridge, still stealing, still alert, but his anger +increasing with every moment. The fact that he had to leave the trail +again to permit still another animal to pass, and a particularly +insignificant one too, didn't make him feel any better. This animal had +a number of curious stripes along his back, and usually did nothing more +desperate than steal eggs and eat bird fledglings. Whisperfoot could +have crushed him with one bite, but this was one thing that the great +cat, as long as he lived, would never try to do. He got out of the way +politely when Stripe-back was still a quarter of a mile away; which was +quite a compliment to the little animal's ability to introduce himself. +Stripe-back was familiarly known as a skunk. + +Shortly after ten, the mountain lion had a remarkably fine chance at a +buck. The direction of the wind, the trees, the thickets and the light +were all in his favor. It was old Blacktail, wallowing in the salt lick; +and Whisperfoot's heart bounded when he detected him. No human hunter +could have laid his plans with greater care. He had to cut up the side +of the ridge, mindful of the wind. Then there was a long dense thicket +in which he might approach within fifty feet of the lick, still with the +wind in his face. Just beside the lick was another deep thicket, from +which he could make his leap. + +Blacktail was wholly unsuspecting. No creature in the Oregon woods was +more beautiful than he. He had a noble spread of antlers, limbs that +were wings, and a body that was grace itself. He was a timid creature, +but he did not even dream of the tawny Danger that this instant was +creeping through the thickets upon him. + +Whisperfoot drew near, with infinite caution. He made a perfect stalk +clear to the end of the buckbrush. Thirty feet more--thirty feet of +particularly difficult stalking--and he would be in leaping range. If he +could only cross this last distance in silence, the game was his. + +His body lowered. The tail lashed back and forth, and now it had begun +to have a slight vertical motion that frontiersmen have learned to watch +for. He placed every paw with consummate grace, and few sets of human +nerves have sufficient control over leg muscles to move with such +astounding, exacting patience. He scarcely seemed to move at all. + +The distance slowly shortened. He was almost to the last thicket, from +which he might spring. His wild blood was leaping in his veins. + +But when scarcely ten feet remained to stalk, a sudden sound pricked +through the darkness. It came from afar, but it was no less terrible. It +was really two sounds, so close together that they sounded as one. +Neither Blacktail nor Whisperfoot had any delusions about them. They +recognized them at once, in strange ways under the skin that no man may +describe, as the far-off reports of a rifle. Just to-day Blacktail had +seen his doe fall bleeding when this same sound, only louder, spoke from +a covert from which Bert Cranston had poached her,--and he left the lick +in one bound. + +Terrified though he was by the rifle shot, still Whisperfoot sprang. But +the distance was too far. His outstretched paw hummed down four feet +behind Blacktail's flank. Then forgetting everything but his anger and +disappointment, the great cougar opened his mouth and howled. + +Howling, the forest people know, never helped one living thing. Of +course this means such howls as Whisperfoot uttered now, not that +deliberate long singsong by which certain of the beasts of prey will +sometimes throw a herd of game into a panic and cause them to run into +an ambush. All Whisperfoot's howl of anger achieved was to frighten all +the deer out of his territory and render it extremely unlikely that he +would have another chance at them that night. Even Dan and Lennox, too +far distant to hear the shots, heard the howl very plainly, and both of +them rejoiced that he had missed. + +The long night was almost done when Whisperfoot even got sight of +further game. Once a flock of grouse exploded with a roar of wings from +a thicket; but they had been wakened by the first whisper of dawn in the +wind, and he really had no chance at them. Soon after this, the moon +set. + +The larger creatures of the forest are almost as helpless in absolute +darkness as human beings. It is very well to talk of seeing in the dark, +but from the nature of things, even vertical pupils may only respond to +light. No owl or bat can see in absolute darkness. Although the stars +still burned, and possibly a fine filament of light had spread out from +the East, the descending moon left the forest much too dark for +Whisperfoot to hunt with any advantage. It became increasingly likely +that he would have to retire to his lair without any meal whatever. + +But still he remained, hoping against hope. After a futile fifteen +minutes of watching a trail, he heard a doe feeding on a hillside. Its +footfall was not so heavy as the sturdy tramp of a buck, and besides, +the bucks would be higher on the ridges this time of morning. He began a +cautious advance toward it. + +For the first fifty yards the hunt was in his favor. He came up wind, +and the brush made a perfect cover. But the doe unfortunately was +standing a full twenty yards farther, in an open glade. For a long +moment the tawny creature stood motionless, hoping that the prey would +wander toward him. But even in this darkness, he could tell that she was +making a half-circle that would miss him by forty yards, a course that +would eventually take her down wind in almost the direction that +Whisperfoot had come. + +Under ordinary circumstances, Whisperfoot would not have made an attack. +A cougar can run swiftly, but a deer is light itself. The big cat would +have preferred to linger, a motionless thing in the thickets, hoping +some other member of the deer herd to which the doe must have belonged +would come into his ambush. But the hunt was late, and Whisperfoot was +very, very angry. Too many times this night he had missed his kill. +Besides, the herd was certainly somewhere down wind, and for certain +very important reasons a cougar might as well hunt elephants as try to +stalk down wind. The breeze carries his scent more surely than a servant +carries a visiting card. In desperation, he leaped from the thicket and +charged the deer. + +In spite of the preponderant odds against him, the charge was almost a +success. He went fully half the distance between them before the deer +perceived him. Then she leaped. There seemed to be no interlude of time +between the instant that she beheld the dim, tawny figure in the air and +that in which her long legs pushed out in a spring. But she didn't leap +straight ahead. She knew enough of the cougars to know that the great +cat would certainly aim for her head and neck in the same way that a +duck-hunter leads a fast-flying duck,--hoping to intercept her leap. +Even as her feet left the ground she seemed to whirl in the air, and the +deadly talons whipped down in vain. Then, cutting back in front, she +raced down wind. + +It is usually the most unmitigated folly for a cougar to chase a deer +against which he has missed his stroke; and it is also quite fatal to +his dignity. And whoever doubts for a minute that the larger creatures +have no dignity, and that it is not very dear to them, simply knows +nothing about the ways of animals. They cling to it to the death. And +nothing is quite so amusing to old Woof, the bear--who, after all, has +the best sense of humor in the forest--as the sight of a tawny, majestic +mountain lion, rabid and foaming at the mouth, in an effort to chase a +deer that he can't possibly catch. But to-night it was too dark for Woof +to see. Besides, one disappointment after another had crumbled, as the +rains crumble leaves, the last vestige of Whisperfoot's self-control. +Snarling in fury, he bounded after the doe. + +She was lost to sight at once in the darkness, but for fully thirty +yards he raced in her pursuit. And it is true that deep down in his own +well of instincts--those mysterious waters that the events of life can +hardly trouble--he really didn't expect to overtake her. If he had +stopped to think, it would have been one of the really great surprises +of his life to hear the sudden, unmistakable stir and movement of a +large, living creature not fifteen feet distant in the thicket. + +He didn't stop to think at all. He didn't puzzle on the extreme +unlikelihood of a doe halting in her flight from a cougar. It is +doubtful whether, in the thickets, he had any perceptions of the +creature other than its movements. He was running down wind, so it is +certain that he didn't smell it. If he saw it at all, it was just as a +shadow, sufficiently large to be that of a deer. It was moving, crawling +as Woof sometimes crawled, seemingly to get out of his path. And +Whisperfoot leaped straight at it. + +It was a perfect shot. He landed high on its shoulders. His head lashed +down, and the white teeth closed. All the long life of his race he had +known that pungent essence that flowed forth. His senses perceived it, a +message shot along his nerves to his brain. And then he opened his mouth +in a high, far-carrying squeal of utter, abject terror. + +He sprang a full fifteen feet back into the thickets; then crouched. The +hair stood still at his shoulders, his claws were bared; he was prepared +to fight to the death. He didn't understand. He only knew the worst +single terror of his life. It was not a doe that he had attacked in the +darkness. It was not Urson, the porcupine, or even Woof. It was that +imperial master of all things, man himself. Unknowing, he had attacked +Landy Hildreth, lying wounded from Cranston's bullet beside the trail. +Word of the arson ring would never reach the settlements, after all. + +And as for Whisperfoot,--the terror that choked his heart with blood +began to wear off in a little while. The man lay so still in the +thickets. Besides, there was a strange, wild smell in the air. +Whisperfoot's stroke had gone home so true there had not even been a +fight. The darkness began to lift around him, and a strange exultation, +a rapture unknown before in all his hunting, began to creep into his +wild blood. Then, as a shadow steals, he went creeping back to his +dead. + + + + +V + + +Dan Failing had been studying nature on the high ridges; and he went +home by a back trail that led to old Bald Mountain. Many a man of longer +residence in the mountains wouldn't have cared to strike off through the +thickets with no guide except his own sense of direction. The ridges are +too many, and they look too much alike. It is very easy to walk in a +great circle--because one leg tires before the other--with no hope +whatever of anything except the spirit ever rising above the barrier of +the pines. But Dan always knew exactly where he was. It was part of his +inheritance from his frontiersmen ancestors, and it freed his wings in +the hills. + +The trail was just a narrow serpent in the brush; and it had not been +made by gangs of laborers, working with shovels and picks. Possibly half +a dozen white men, in all, had ever walked along it. It was just the +path of the wild creatures, worn down by hoof and paw and cushion since +the young days of the world. + +It was covered, like a sheep lane, with little slit triangles in the +yellow dirt. Some of them were hardly larger than the print of a man's +thumb, and they went all the way up to a great imprint that Dan could +scarcely cover with his open hand. All manner of deer, from seasonal +fawns with spotted coats and wide, startled eyes to the great bull elk, +monarch of the forest, had passed that way before him. Once he found the +traces of an old kill, where a cougar had dined and from which the +buzzards had but newly departed. And once he saw where Woof had left his +challenge in the bark of a great pine. + +This is a very common thing for Woof to do,--to go about leaving +challenges as if he were the most warlike creature in the world. In +reality, he never fights until he is driven to it, and then his big, +furry arms turn out to be steel compressors of the first order; he is +patient and good-natured and ordinarily all he wants to do is sleep in +the leaves and grunt and soliloquize and hunt berries. But woe to the +man or beast who meets him in a rough-and-tumble fight. Unlike his great +cousin the Grizzly, that American Adamzad that not only walks like a man +but kills cattle like a butcher, he almost never eats meat. No one ever +pays any attention to his challenges either, and likely he never +thought any one would. They seemed to be the result of an inherited +tendency with him, just as much as to grow drowsy in winter, or to +scratch fleas from his furry hide. + +He sees a tree that suits his fancy and immediately stands on his hind +legs beside it. Then he scratches the bark, just as high up as he can +reach. The idea seemed to be that if any other bear should journey along +that way, should find that he couldn't reach as high, he would +immediately quit the territory. But it doesn't work out in practice. +Nine times out of ten there will be a dozen Woofs in the same +neighborhood, no two of equal size, yet they hunt their berries and rob +their bee trees in perfect peace. Perhaps the impulse still remains, a +dim, remembered instinct, long after it has outlived its +usefulness,--just as man, ten thousand years after his arboreal +existence, will often throw his arms into the air as if to seize a tree +branch when he is badly frightened. + +It was a roundabout trail home, but yet it had its advantages. It took +him within two miles of Snowbird's lookout station, and at this hour of +day he had been particularly fortunate in finding her at a certain +spring on the mountain side. It was a rather singular coincidence. Along +about four he would usually find himself wandering up that way. +Strangely enough, at the same time, it was true that she had an +irresistible impulse to go down and sit in the green ferns beside the +same spring. They always seemed to be surprised to see one another. In +reality, either of them would have been considerably more surprised had +the other failed to put in an appearance. And always they had long +talks, as the afternoon drew to twilight. + +"But I don't think you ought to wait so late before starting home," the +girl would always say. "You're not a human hawk, and it is easier to get +lost than you think." + +And this solicitude, Dan rightly figured, was a good sign. There was +only one objection to it. It resulted in an unmistakable inference that +she considered him unable to take care of himself,--and that was the +last thing on earth that he wanted her to think. He understood her well +enough to know that her standards were the standards of the mountains, +valuing strength and self-reliance above all things. He didn't stop to +question why, every day, he trod so many weary miles to be with her. + +She was as natural as a fawn; and many times she had quite taken away +his breath. And once she did it literally. He didn't think that so long +as death spared him he would ever be able to forget that experience. It +was her birthday, and knowing of it in time he had arranged for the +delivery of a certain package, dear to a girlish heart, at her father's +house. In the trysting hour he had come trudging over the hills with it, +and few experiences in his life had ever yielded such unmitigated +pleasure as the sight of her, glowing white and red, as she took off its +wrapping paper. It was a jolly old gift, he recollected.--And when she +had seen it, she fairly leaped at him. Her warm, round arms around his +neck, and the softest, loveliest lips in the world pressed his. But in +those days he didn't have the strength that he had now. He felt he could +endure the same experience again with no embarrassment whatever. His +first impression then, besides abounding, incredible astonishment, was +that she had quite knocked out his breath. But let it be said for him +that he recovered with notable promptness. His own arms had gone up and +closed around,--and the girl had wriggled free. + +"But you mustn't do that!" she told him. + +"But, good Lord, girl! You did it to me! Is there no justice in women?" + +"But I did it to thank you for this lovely gift. For remembering me--for +being so good--and considerate. You haven't any cause to thank me." + +He had many very serious difficulties in thinking it out. And only one +conclusion was obtainable,--that Snowbird kissed as naturally as she did +anything else, and the kiss meant exactly what she said it did and no +more. But the fact remained that he would have walked a good many miles +farther if he thought there was any possibility of a repeat. + +But all at once his fantasies were suddenly and rudely dispelled by the +intrusion of realities. Even a man in the depths of concentration cannot +be inattentive to the wild sounds of the mountains. They have a +commanding, a penetrating quality all their own. A mathematician cannot +walk over a mountain trail pondering on the fourth dimension when some +living creature is consistently cracking brush in the thickets beside +him. Human nature is directly opposed to such a thing, and it is too +much to expect of any man. He has too many race memories of saber-tooth +tigers, springing from their lairs, and likely he has heard too many +bear stories in his youth. + +Dan had been walking silently himself in the pine needles. As Lennox had +wondered at long ago, he knew how by instinct; and instinctively he +practiced this attainment as soon as he got out into the wild. The +creature was fully one hundred yards distant, yet Dan could hear him +with entire plainness. And for a while he couldn't even guess what +manner of thing it might be. + +A cougar that made so much noise would be immediately expelled from the +union. A wolf pack, running by sight, might crack brush as freely; but a +wolf pack would also bay to wake the dead. Of course it might be an elk +or a steer, and still more likely, a bear. He stood still and listened. +The sound grew nearer. + +Soon it became evident that the creature was either walking with two +legs, or else was a four-footed animal putting two feet down at the same +instant. Dan had learned to wait. He stood perfectly still. And +gradually he came to the conclusion that he was listening to the +footfall of another man. + +But it was rather hard to imagine what a man might be doing on this +lonely hill. Of course it might be a deer hunter; but few were the +valley sportsmen who had penetrated to this far land. The footfall was +much too heavy for Snowbird. The steps were evidently on another trail +that intersected his own trail one hundred yards farther up the hill. He +had only to stand still, and in an instant the man would come in sight. + +He took one step into the thickets, prepared to conceal himself if it +became necessary. Then he waited. Soon the man stepped out on the +trail. + +Even at the distance of one hundred yards, Dan had no difficulty +whatever in recognizing him. He could not mistake this tall, dark form, +the soiled, slouchy clothes, the rough hair, the intent, dark features. +It was a man about his own age, his own height, but weighing fully +twenty pounds more, and the dark, narrow eyes could belong to no one but +Bert Cranston. He carried his rifle loosely in his arms. + +He stopped at the forks in the trail and looked carefully in all +directions. Dan had every reason to think that Cranston would see him at +first glance. Only one clump of thicket sheltered him. But because Dan +had learned the lesson of standing still, because his olive-drab +sporting clothes blended softly with the colored leaves, Cranston did +not detect him. He turned and strode on down the trail. + +He didn't move quite like a man with innocent purposes. There was +something stealthy, something sinister in his stride, and the way he +kept such a sharp lookout in all directions. Yet he never glanced to the +trail for deer tracks, as he would have done had he been hunting. +Without even waiting to meditate on the matter, Dan started to shadow +him. + +Before one hundred yards had been traversed, he could better understand +the joy the cougar takes in his hunting. It was the same process,--a +cautious, silent advance in the trail of prey. He had to walk with the +same caution, he had to take advantage of the thickets. He began to feel +a curious excitement. + +Cranston seemed to be moving more carefully now, examining the brush +along the trail. Now and then he glanced up at the tree tops. And all at +once he stopped and knelt in the dry shrubbery. + +At first all that Dan could see was the glitter of a knife blade. +Cranston seemed to be whittling a piece of dead pine into fine shavings. +Now he was gathering pine needles and small twigs, making a little pile +of them. And then, just as Cranston drew his match, Dan saw his purpose. + +Cranston was at his old trade,--setting a forest fire. + + + + +VI + + +For two very good reasons, Dan didn't call to Cranston at once. The two +reasons were that Cranston had a rifle and that Dan was unarmed. It +might be extremely likely that Cranston would choose the most plausible +and effective means of preventing an interruption of his crime, and by +the same token, prevent word of the crime ever reaching the authorities. +The rifle contained five cartridges, and only one was needed. + +But the idea of backing out, unseen, never even occurred to Dan. The +fire would have a tremendous headway before he could summon help. +Although it was near the lookout station, every condition pointed to a +disastrous fire. The brush was dry as tinder, not so heavy as to choke +the wind, but yet tall enough to carry the flame into the tree tops. The +stiff breeze up the ridge would certainly carry the flame for miles +through the parched Divide before help could come. In the meantime stock +and lives and homes would be endangered, besides the irreparable loss of +timber. There were many things that Dan might do, but giving up was not +one of them. + +After all, he did the wisest thing of all. He simply came out in plain +sight and unconcernedly walked down the trail toward Cranston. At the +same instant, the latter struck his match. + +As Dan was no longer stalking, Cranston immediately heard his step. He +whirled, recognized Dan, and for one long instant in which the world +seemed to have time in plenty to make a complete revolution, he stood +perfectly motionless. The match flared in his dark fingers, his +eyes--full of singular conjecturing--rested on Dan's face. No instant of +the latter's life had ever been fraught with greater peril. He +understood perfectly what was going on in Cranston's mind. The +fire-fiend was calmly deciding whether to shoot or whether to bluff it +out. One required no more moral courage than the other. It really didn't +make a great deal of difference to Cranston. + +He had been born in the hills, and his spirit was the spirit of the +wolf,--to kill when necessary, without mercy or remorse. Besides, Dan +represented, in his mind, all that Cranston hated,--the law, gentleness, +the great civilized world that spread below. But in spite of it, he +decided that the killing was not worth the cartridge. The other course +was too easy. He did not even dream that Dan had been shadowing him and +had seen his intention. He would have laughed at the idea that a +"tenderfoot" could thus walk behind him, unheard. Without concern, he +scattered with his foot the little heap of kindling, and slipping his +pipe into his mouth, he touched the flaring match to it. It was a wholly +admirable little piece of acting, and would have deceived any one who +had not seen his previous preparations. The fact that the pipe was empty +mattered not one way or another. Then he walked on down the trail toward +Dan. + +Dan stopped and lighted his own pipe. It was a curious little truce. And +then he leaned back against the great, gray trunk of a fallen tree. + +"Well, Cranston," he said civilly. The men had met on previous +occasions, and always there had been the same invisible war between +them. + +"How do you do, Failing," Cranston replied. No perceptions could be so +blunt as to miss the premeditated insult in the tone. He didn't speak in +his own tongue at all, the short, guttural "Howdy" that is the greeting +of the mountain men. He pronounced all the words with an exaggerated +precision, an unmistakable mockery of Dan's own tone. In his accent he +threw a tone of sickly sweetness, and his inference was all too plain. +He was simply calling Failing a milksop and a white-liver; just as +plainly as if he had used the words. + +The eyes of the two men met. Cranston's lips were slightly curled in an +unmistakable leer. Dan's were very straight. And in one thing at least, +their eyes looked just the same. The pupils of both pairs had contracted +to steel points, bright in the dark gray of the irises. Cranston's +looked somewhat red; and Dan's were only hard and bright. + +Dan felt himself straighten; and the color mounted somewhat higher in +his brown cheeks. But he did not try to avenge the insult--yet. Cranston +was still fifteen feet distant, and that was too far. A man may swing a +rifle within fifteen feet. The fact that they were in no way physical +equals did not even occur to him. When the insult is great enough, such +considerations cannot possibly matter. Cranston was hard as steel, one +hundred and seventy pounds in weight. Dan did not touch one hundred and +fifty, and a deadly disease had not yet entirely relinquished its hold +upon him. + +"I do very well, Cranston," Dan answered in the same tone. "Wouldn't you +like another match? I believe your pipe has gone out." + +Very little can be said for the wisdom of this remark. It was simply +human,--that age-old creed to answer blow for blow and insult for +insult. Of course the inference was obvious,--that Dan was accusing him, +by innuendo, of his late attempt at arson. Cranston glanced up quickly, +and it might be true that his fingers itched and tingled about the +barrel of his rifle. He knew what Dan meant. He understood perfectly +that Dan had guessed his purpose on the mountain side. And the curl at +his lips became more pronounced. + +"What a smart little boy," he scorned. "Going to be a Sherlock Holmes +when he grows up." Then he half turned and the light in his eyes blazed +up. He was not leering now. The mountain men are too intense to play at +insult very long. Their inherent savagery comes to the surface, and they +want the warmth of blood upon their fingers. The voice became guttural. +"Maybe you're a spy?" he asked. "Maybe you're one of those city rats--to +come up and watch us, and then run and tell the forest service. There's +two things, Failing, that I want you to know." + +Dan puffed at his pipe, and his eyes looked curiously bright through the +film of smoke. "I'm not interested in hearing them," he said. + +"It might pay you," Cranston went on. "One of 'em is that one man's word +is good as another's in a court--and it wouldn't do you any good to run +down and tell tales. A man can light his pipe on the mountain side +without the courts being interested. The second thing is--just that I +don't think you'd find it a healthy thing to do." + +"I suppose, then, that is a threat?" + +"It ain't just a threat." Cranston laughed harshly,--a single, grim +syllable that was the most terrible sound he had yet uttered. "It's a +fact. Just try it, Failing. Just make one little step in that direction. +You couldn't hide behind a girl's skirts then. Why, you city sissy, I'd +break you to pieces in my hands!" + +Few men can make a threat without a muscular accompaniment. Its very +utterance releases pent-up emotions, part of which can only pour forth +in muscular expression. And anger is a primitive thing, going down to +the most mysterious depths of a man's nature. As Cranston spoke, his lip +curled, his dark fingers clenched on his thick palm, and he half leaned +forward. + +Dan knocked out his pipe on the log. It was the only sound in that whole +mountain realm; all the lesser sounds were stilled. The two men stood +face to face, Dan tranquil, Cranston shaken by passion. + +"I give you," said Dan with entire coldness, "an opportunity to take +that back. Just about four seconds." + +He stood very straight as he spoke, and his eyes did not waver in the +least. It would not be the truth to say that his heart was not leaping +like a wild thing in his breast. A dark mist was spreading like madness +over his brain; but yet he was striving to keep his thoughts clear. It +was hard to do, under insult. But he knew that only by craft, by cool +thinking and planning, could he even hope to stand against the brawny +Cranston. He kept a remorseless control over his voice and face. +Stealthily, without seeming to do so, he was setting his muscles for a +spring. + +The only answer to his words was a laugh,--a roaring laugh of scorn from +Cranston's dark lips. In his laughter, his intent, catlike vigilance +relaxed. Dan saw a chance; feeble though it was, it was the only chance +he had. And his long body leaped like a serpent through the air. + +Physical superior though he was, Cranston would have repelled the attack +with his rifle if he had had a chance. His blood was already at the +murder heat--a point always quickly reached in Cranston--and the dark, +hot fumes in his brain were simply nothing more nor less than the most +poisonous, bitter hatred. No other word exists. If his class of +degenerate mountain men had no other accomplishment, they could hate. +All their lives they practiced the emotion: hatred of their neighbors, +hatred of law, hatred of civilization in all its forms. Besides, this +kind of hillman habitually fought his duels with rifles. Hands were not +deadly enough. + +But Dan was past his guard before he had time to raise his gun. The +whole attack was one of the most astounding surprises of Cranston's +life. Dan's body struck his, his fists flailed, and to protect himself, +Cranston was obliged to drop the rifle. They staggered, as if in some +weird dance, on the trail; and their arms clasped in a clinch. + +For a long instant they stood straining, seemingly motionless. +Cranston's powerful body had stood up well under the shock of Dan's +leap. It was a hand-to-hand battle now. The rifle had slid on down the +hillside, to be caught in a clump of brush twenty feet below. Dan called +on every ounce of his strength, because he knew what mercy he might +expect if Cranston mastered him. The battles of the mountains were +battles to the death. + +They flung back and forth, wrenching shoulders, lashing fists, teeth and +feet and fingers. There were no Marquis of Queensbury rules in this +battle. Again and again Dan sent home his blows; but they all seemed +ineffective. By now, Cranston had completely overcome the moment's +advantage the other had obtained by the power of his leap. He hurled Dan +from the clinch and lashed at him with hard fists. + +It is a very common thing to hear of a silent fight. But it is really a +more rare occurrence than most people believe. It is true that serpents +will often fight in the strangest, most eerie silence; but human beings +are not serpents. They partake more of the qualities of the +meat-eaters,--the wolves and the felines. After the first instant, the +noise of the fight aroused the whole hillside. The sound of blows was in +itself notable, and besides, both of the men were howling the primordial +battle cries of hatred and vengeance. + +For two long minutes Dan fought with the strength of desperation, +summoning at last all that mysterious reserve force with which all men +are born. But he was playing a losing game. The malady with which he had +suffered had taken too much of his vigor. Even as he struggled, it +seemed to him that the vista about him, the dark pines, the colored +leaves of the perennial shrubbery, the yellow path were all obscured in +a strange, white mist. A great wind roared in his ears,--and his heart +was evidently about to shiver to pieces. + +But still he fought on, not daring to yield. He could no longer parry +Cranston's blows. The latter's arms went around him in one of those +deadly holds that wrestlers know; and Dan struggled in vain to free +himself. Cranston's face itself seemed hideous and unreal in the mist +that was creeping over him. He did not recognize the curious thumping +sound as Cranston's fists on his flesh. And now Cranston had hurled him +off his feet. + +Nothing mattered further. He had fought the best he could. This cruel +beast could pounce on him at will and hammer away his life. But still he +struggled. Except for the constant play of his muscles, his almost +unconscious effort to free himself that kept one of Cranston's arms busy +holding him down, that fight on the mountain path might have come to a +sudden end. Human bodies can stand a terrific punishment; but Dan's was +weakened from the ravages of his disease. Besides, Cranston would soon +have both hands and both feet free for the work, and when these four +terrible weapons are used at once, the issue--soon or late--can never be +in doubt. + +But even now, consciousness still lingered. Dan could hear his enemy's +curses,--and far up the trail, he heard another, stranger sound. It was +that second of acute sensibilities that usually immediately precedes +unconsciousness, and he heard it very plainly. It sounded like some one +running. + +And then he dimly knew that Cranston was climbing from his body. Voices +were speaking,--quick, commanding voices just over him. Above Cranston's +savage curses another voice rang clear, and to Dan's ears, glorious +beyond all human utterance. + +He opened his tortured eyes. The mists lifted from in front of them, and +the whole drama was revealed. It had not been sudden mercy that had +driven Cranston from his body, just when his victim's falling +unconsciousness would have put him completely in his power. Rather it +was something black and ominous that even now was pointed squarely at +Cranston's breast. + +None too soon, a ranger of the hill had heard the sounds of the +struggle, and had left the trysting place at the spring to come to Dan's +aid. It was Snowbird, very pale but wholly self-sufficient and +determined and intent. Her pistol was quite cocked and ready. + + + + +VII + + +Dan Failing was really not badly hurt. The quick, lashing blows had not +done more than severely bruise the flesh of his face; and the mists of +unconsciousness that had been falling over him were more nearly the +result of his own tremendous physical exertion. Now these mists were +rising. + +"Go--go away," the girl was commanding. "I think you've killed him." + +Dan opened his eyes to find her kneeling close beside him, but still +covering Cranston with her pistol. Her hand was resting on his bruised +cheek. He couldn't have believed that a human face could be as white, +while life still remained, as hers was then. All the lovely tints that +had been such a delight to him, the play of soft reds and browns, had +faded as an after-glow fades on the snow. + +Dan's glance moved with hers to Cranston. He was standing easily at a +distance of a dozen feet; and except for the faintest tremble all over +his body, a muscular reaction from the violence of his passion, he had +entirely regained his self-composure. This was quite characteristic of +the mountain men. They share with the beasts a passion of living that is +wholly unknown on the plains; but yet they have a certain quality of +imperturbability known nowhere else. Nor is it limited to the +native-born mountaineers. No man who intimately knows a member of that +curious, keen-eyed little army of naturalists and big-game hunters who +go to the north woods every fall, as regularly and seemingly as +inexorably as the waterfowl go in spring, can doubt this fact. They seem +to have acquired from the silence and the snows an impregnation of that +eternal calm and imperturbability that is the wilderness itself. +Cranston wasn't in the least afraid. Fear is usually a matter of +uncertainty, and he knew exactly where he stood. + +It is extremely doubtful if a plainsman would have possessed this +knowledge. But a plainsman has not the knowledge of life itself that the +mountaineer has, simply because he does not see it in the raw. And he +has not half the intimate knowledge of death, an absolute requisite of +self-composure. The mountaineer knows life in its simple phases with +little tradition or convention to blur the vision. Death is a very +intimate acquaintance that may be met in any snowdrift, on any rocky +trail; and these conditions are very deadly to any delusions that he has +in regard to himself. He acquires an ability to see just where he +stands, and of course that means self-possession. This quality had +something to do with the remarkable record that the mountain men, such +as that magnificent warrior from Tennessee, made in the late war. + +Cranston knew exactly what Snowbird would do. Although of a higher +order, she was a mountain creature, even as himself. She meant exactly +what she said. If he hadn't climbed from Dan's prone body, she would +have shot quickly and very straight. If he tried to attack either of +them now, her finger would press back before he could blink an eye, and +she wouldn't weep any hysterical tears over his dead body. If he kept +his distance, she wouldn't shoot at all. He meant to keep his distance. +But he did know that he could insult her without danger to himself. And +by now his lips had acquired their old curl of scorn. + +"I'll go, Snowbird," he said. "I'll leave you with your sissy. But I +guess you saw what I did to him--in two minutes." + +"I saw. But you must remember he's sick. Now go." + +"If he's sick, let him stay in bed--and have a wet nurse. Maybe you can +be that." + +The lids drooped halfway over her gray eyes, and the slim finger curled +more tightly about the trigger. "Oh, I wish I could shoot you, Bert!" +she said. She didn't whisper it, or hiss it, or hurl it, or do any of +the things most people are supposed to do in moments of violent emotion. +She simply said it, and her meaning was all the clearer. + +"But you can't. And I'll pound that milksop of yours to a jelly every +time I see him. I'd think, Snowbird, that you'd want a _man_." + +He started up the trail; and then she did a strange thing. "He's more of +a man than you are, right now, Bert," she told him. "He'll prove it some +day." Then her arm went about Dan's neck and lifted his head upon her +breast; and in Cranston's plain sight, she bent and kissed him, softly, +on the lips. + +Cranston's answer was an oath. It dripped from his lips, more poisonous, +more malicious than the venom of a snake. His late calm, treasured so +much, dropped from him in an instant. His features seemed to tighten, +the dark lips drew away from his teeth. No words could have made him +such an effective answer as this little action of hers. And as he turned +up the trail, he called down to her a name,--that most dreadful epithet +that foul tongues have always used to women held in greatest scorn. + +Dan struggled in her arms. The kiss on his lips, the instant before, had +not called him out of his half-consciousness. It had scarcely seemed +real, rather just an incident in a blissful dream. But the word called +down the trail shot out clear and vivid from the silence, just as a +physician's face will often leap from the darkness after the anesthesia. +The whole scene in an instant became incredibly vivid,--the dark figure +on the trail, the girl's white face above him, narrow-eyed and +drawn-lipped, and the dark pines, silent and sad, overhead. Something +infinitely warm and tender was holding him, pressing him back against a +holy place that throbbed and gave him life and strength; but he knew +that this word had to be answered. And only actions, not other words, +could be its payment. All the voices of his body called to him to lie +still, but the voices of the spirit, those higher, nobler promptings +from which no man, to the glory of the breed from which he sprung, can +ever quite escape, were stronger yet. He tugged upward, straining. But +he didn't even have the strength to break the hold that the soft arm had +about his neck. + +"Oh, if I could only pull the trigger!" she was crying. "If I could only +kill him--" + +"Let me," he pleaded. "Give me the pistol. I'll kill him--" + +And he would. There was no flinching in the gray eyes that looked up to +her. She leaned forward, as if to put the weapon in his hands, but at +once drew it back. And then a single sob caught at her throat. An +instant later, they heard Cranston's laughter as he vanished around the +turn of the trail. + +For long minutes the two of them were still. The girl still held the +man's head upon her breast. The pistol had fallen in the pine needles, +and her nervous hand plucked strangely at the leaves of a mountain +flower. To Dan's eyes, there was something trancelike, a hint of +paralysis and insensibility about her posture. He had never seen her +eyes like this. The light that he had always beheld in them had +vanished. Their utter darkness startled him. + +He sat up straight, and her arm that had been about his neck fell at her +side. He took her hand firmly in his, and their eyes met. + +"We must go home, Snowbird," he told her simply. "I'm not so badly hurt +but that I can make it." + +She nodded; but otherwise scarcely seemed to hear. Her eyes still +flowed with darkness. And then, before his own eyes, their dark pupils +began to contract. The hand he held filled and throbbed with life, and +the fingers closed around his. She leaned toward him. + +"Listen, Dan," she said quickly. "You heard--didn't you--the last thing +that he said?" + +"I couldn't help but hear, Snowbird." + +Her other hand sought for his. "Then if you heard--payment must be made. +You see what I mean, Dan. Maybe you can't see, knowing the girls that +live on the plains. You were the cause of his saying it, and you must +answer--" + +It seemed to Dan that some stern code of the hills, unwritten except in +the hearts of their children, inexorable as night, was speaking through +her lips. This was no personal thing. In some dim, half-understood way, +it went back to the basic code of life. + +"People must fight their own fights, up here," she told him. "The laws +of the courts that the plains' people can appeal to are all too far +away. There's no one that can do it, except you. Not my father. My +father can't fight your battles here, if your honor is going to stand. +It's up to you, Dan. You can't pretend that you didn't hear him. Such as +you are, weak and sick to be beaten to a pulp in two minutes, you alone +will have to make him answer for it. I came to your aid--and now you +must come to mine." + +Her fingers no longer clasped his. Strength had come back to him, and +his fingers closed down until the blood went out of hers, but she was +wholly unconscious of the pain. In reality, she was conscious of nothing +except the growing flame in his face. It held her eyes, in passionate +fascination. His pupils were contracting to little bright dots in the +gray irises. The jaw was setting, as she had never seen it before. + +"Do you _think_, Snowbird, that you'd even have to ask me?" he demanded. +"Don't you think I understand? And it won't be in your defense--only my +own duty." + +"But he is so strong--and you are so weak--" + +"I won't be so weak forever. I never really cared much about living +before. I'll try now, and you'll see--oh, Snowbird, wait and trust me: I +understand everything. It's my own fight--when you kissed me, and he +cried down that word in anger and jealousy, it put the whole thing on +me. No one else can make him answer; no one else has the right. It's my +honor, no one else's, that stands or falls." + +He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it again and again. + +And for the first time he saw the tears gathering in her dark eyes. "But +you _fought_ here, didn't you, Dan?" she asked with painful slowness. +"You didn't put up your arms--or try to run away? I didn't come till he +had you done, so I didn't see." She looked at him as if her whole joy of +life hung on his answer. + +"Fought! I would have fought till I died! But that isn't enough, +Snowbird. It isn't enough just to fight, in a case like this. A man's +got to win! I would have died if you hadn't come. And that's another +debt that I have to pay--only that debt I owe to _you_." + +She nodded slowly. The lives of the mountain men are not saved by their +women without incurring obligation. She attempted no barren denials. She +made no effort to pretend he had not incurred a tremendous debt when she +had come with her pistol. It was an unavoidable fact. A life for a life +is the code of the mountains. + +"Two things I must do, before I can ever dare to die," he told her +soberly. "One of them is to pay you; the other is to pay Cranston for +the thing he said. Maybe the chance will never come for the first of the +two; only I'll pray that it will. Maybe it would be kinder to you to +pray that it wouldn't; yet I pray that it will! Maybe I can pay that +debt only by being always ready, always watching for a chance to save +you from any danger, always trying to protect you. You didn't come in +time to see the fight I made. Besides--I lost, and little else matters. +And that debt to you can't be paid until sometime I fight again--for +you--and win." He gasped from his weakness, but went on bravely. "I'll +never be able to feel at peace, Snowbird, until I'm tested in the fire +before your eyes! I want to show you the things Cranston said of me are +not true--that my courage can stand the test. + +"It wouldn't be the same, perhaps, with an Eastern girl. Other things +matter in the valleys. But I see how it is here; that there is only one +standard for men and by that standard they rise or fall. Things in the +mountains are down to the essentials." + +He paused and struggled for strength to continue. "And I know what you +said to him," he went on. "Half-unconscious as I was, I remember every +word. Each word just seems to burn into me, Snowbird, and I'll make +every one of them good. You said I am a better man than he, and sometime +it would be proved--and it's the truth! Maybe in a month, maybe in a +year. I'm not going to die from this malady of mine now, Snowbird. I've +got too much to live for--too many debts to pay. In the end, I'll prove +your words to him." + +His eyes grew earnest, and the hard fire went out of them. "It's almost +as if you were a queen, a real queen of some great kingdom," he told +her, tremulous with a great awe that was stealing over him, as a mist +steals over water. "And because I had kissed your fingers, for ever and +ever I was your subject, living only to fight your fights--maybe with a +dream in the end to kiss your fingers again. When you bent and kissed me +on that hillside--for him to see--it was the same: that I was sworn to +you, and nothing mattered in my life except the service and love I could +give to you. And it's more than you ever dream, Snowbird. It's all +yours, for your battles and your happiness." + +The great pines were silent above them, shadowed and dark. Perhaps they +were listening to an age-old story, those vows of service and +self-gained worth by which the race has struggled upward from the +darkness. + +"But I kissed you--once before," she reminded him. The voice was just a +whisper, hardly louder than the stir of the leaves in the wind. + +"But that kiss didn't count," he told her. "It wasn't at all the same. I +loved you then, I think, but it didn't mean what it did to-day." + +"And what--" she leaned toward him, her eyes full on his, "does it mean +now?" + +"All that's worth while in life, all that matters when everything is +said that can be said, and all is done that can be done. And it means, +please God, when the debts are paid, that I may have such a kiss again." + +"Not until then," she told him, whispering. + +"Until then, I make oath that I won't even ask it, or receive it if you +should give it. It goes too deep, dearest--and it means too much." + +This was their pact. Not until the debts were paid and her word made +good would those lips be his again. There was no need for further words. +Both of them knew. The soldier of the queen must be tried with fire, +before he may return to kiss her fingers. The light burns clear in this. +No instances of degeneracy, no exceptions brought to pass by thwarted +nature, can affect the truth of this. + +In the skies, the gray clouds were gathering swiftly, as always in the +mountains. The rain-drops were falling one and one, over the forest. The +summer was done, and fall had come in earnest. + + + + +VIII + + +The rains fell unceasingly for seven days: not a downpour but a constant +drizzle that made the distant ridges smoke. The parched earth seemed to +smack its lips, and little rivulets began to fall and tumble over the +beds of the dry streams. The Rogue and the Umpqua flooded and the great +steelhead began to ascend their smaller tributaries. Whisperfoot hunted +with ease, for the wet shrubbery did not crack and give him away. The +air was filled with the call of the birds of passage. + +All danger of forest fire was at once removed, and Snowbird was no +longer needed as a lookout on old Bald Mountain. She went to her own +home, her companion back to the valley; and now that his sister had +taken his place as housekeeper, Bill had gone down to the lower +foothills with a great part of the live stock. Dan spent these rainy +days in toil on the hillsides, building himself physically so that he +might pay his debts. + +It was no great pleasure, these rainy days. He would have greatly liked +to have lingered in the square mountain house, listening to the quiet +murmur of the rain on the roof and watching Snowbird at her household +tasks. She could, as her father had said, make a biscuit. She could also +roll up sleeves over trim, brown arms and with entire good humor do a +week's laundry for three hardworking men. He would have liked to sit +with her, through the long afternoons, as she knitted beside the +fireplace--to watch the play of her graceful fingers and perhaps, now +and then, to touch her hands when he held the skeins. But none of these +things transpired. He drove himself from daylight till dark, developing +his body for the tests that were sure to come. + +The first few days nearly killed him. He over-exercised in the chill +rain, and one anxious night he developed all the symptoms of pneumonia. +Such a sickness would have been the one thing needed to make the +doctor's prophecy come true. But with Snowbird's aid, and numerous hot +drinks, he fought it off. + +She had made him go to bed, and no human memory could be so dull as to +forget the little, whispered message that she gave him with his last +spoonful of medicine. She said she'd pray for him, and she meant it +too,--literal, entreating prayer that could not go unheard. She was a +mountain girl, and her beliefs were those of her ancestors,--simple and +true and wholly without affectation. But he hadn't relaxed thereafter. +He knew the time had come to make the test. Night after night he would +go to bed half-sick from fatigue, but the mornings would find him fresh. +And after two weeks, he knew he had passed the crisis and was on the +direct road to complete recovery. + +Sometimes he cut wood in the forest: first the felling of some tall +pine, then the trimming and hewing into two-foot lengths. The blisters +came on his hands, broke and bled, but finally hardened into +callosities. He learned the most effective stroke to hurl a shower of +chips from beneath the blade. His back and limbs hardened from the +handling of heavy wood--and the cough was practically gone. + +Sometimes he mended fences and did other manual labor about the ranch; +but not all his exercise was taken out in work. He didn't forget his +friends in the forest, creatures of talon and paw and wing. He spent +long days roaming the ridges and fighting through the buckbrush, and the +forest yielded up its secrets, one by one. But he knew that no mortal +span of years was long enough to absorb them all. Sometimes he shot +ducks over the marshes; and there was no greater sport for him in the +wilds than the first sight of a fine, black-pencil line upon the +distant sky, the leap through the air that it made until, in an +instant's flash, it evolved into a flock of mallard passing with the +wind; and then the test of eye and nerve as he saw them over the sights. + +His frame filled out. His face became swarthy from constant exposure. He +gained in weight. A month glided by, and he began to see the first +movement of the largest forest creatures down to the foothills. For not +even the animals, with the exception of the hardy wolf pack, can survive +if unprotected from the winter snow and cold of the high levels. The +first snow sifted from the gray sky and quickly melted on the wet pine +needles. And then the migration of the deer began in earnest. Before +another week was done, Whisperfoot had cause to marvel where they had +all gone. + +One cloudy afternoon in early November found Silas Lennox cutting wood +on the ridge behind his house. It was still an open question with him +whether he and his daughter would attempt to winter on the Divide. Dan +of course wanted to remain, yet there were certain reasons, some very +definite and others extremely vague, why the prospect of the winter in +the snow fields did not appeal to the mountaineer. In the first place, +all signs pointed to a hard season. Although the fall had come late, +the snows were exceptionally early. The duck flight was completed two +weeks before its usual time, and the rodents had dug their burrows +unusually deep. Besides, too many months of snow weigh heavily upon the +spirit. The wolf packs sing endlessly on the ridges, and many unpleasant +things may happen. On previous years, some of the cabins on the ridges +below had human occupants; this winter the whole region, for nearly +seventy miles across the mountains to the foothills, would be wholly +deserted by human beings. Even the ranger station, twelve miles across a +steep ridge, would soon be empty. Of course a few ranchers had homes a +few miles beyond the river, but the wild cataracts did not freeze in the +coldest of seasons, and there were no bridges. Besides, most of the more +prosperous farmers wintered in the valleys. Only a few more days would +the road be passable for his car; and no time must be lost in making his +decision. + +Once the snows came in reality, there was nothing to do but stay. +Seventy miles across the uncharted ridges on snowshoes is an undertaking +for which even a mountaineer has no fondness. It might be the wisest +thing, after all, to load Snowbird and Dan into his car and drive down +to the valleys. The fall round-up would soon be completed, Bill would +return for a few days from the valleys with new equipment to replace the +broken lighting system on the car, and they could avoid the bitter cold +and snow that Lennox had known so long. Of course he would miss it +somewhat. He had a strong man's love for the endless drifts, the +crackling dawns and the hushed, winter forest wherein not even Woof or +Whisperfoot dares to go abroad. He chopped at a great log and wondered +what would suit him better,--the comfort and safety of the valleys or +the rugged glory of the ridges. + +But at that instant, the question of whether or not he would winter on +the Divide was decided for him. And an instant was all that was needed. +For the period of one breath he forgot to be watchful,--and a certain +dread Spirit that abides much in the forest saw its chance. Perhaps he +had lived too long in the mountains and grown careless of them: an +attitude that is usually punished with death. He had just felled a tree, +and the trunk was still attached to the stump by a stripe of bark to +which a little of the wood adhered. He struck a furious blow at it with +his ax. + +He hadn't considered that the tree lay on a steep slope. As the blade +fell, the great trunk simply seemed to leap. Lennox leaped too, in a +frenzied effort to save his life; but already the leafy bows, like the +tendrils of some great amphibian, had whipped around his legs. He fell, +struggling; and then a curious darkness, streaked with flame, dropped +down upon him. + +An hour later he found himself lying on the still hillside, knowing only +a great wonderment. At first his only impulse was to go back to sleep. +He didn't understand the grayness that had come upon the mountain world, +his own strange feeling of numbness, of endless soaring through infinite +spaces. But he was a mountain man, and that meant he was schooled, +beyond all things, to keep his self-control. He made himself remember. +It was the cruelest work he had ever done, and it seemed to him that his +brain would shiver to pieces from the effort. Yes--he had been cutting +wood on the hillside, and the shadows had been long. He had been +wondering whether or not they should go down to the valleys. + +He remembered now: the last blow and the rolling log. He tried to turn +his head to look up to the hill. + +He found himself wholly unable to do it. Something wracked him in his +neck when he tried to move. But he did glance down. And yes, he could +turn in this direction. And he saw the great tree trunk lying twenty +feet below him, wedged in between the young pines. + +He was surrounded by broken fragments of limbs, and it was evident that +the tree had not struck him a full blow. The limbs had protected him to +some extent. No man is of such mold as to be crushed under the solid +weight of the trunk and live to remember it. He wondered if this were +the frontier of death,--the grayness that lingered over him. He seemed +to be soaring. + +He brought himself back to earth and tried again to remember. Of course, +the twilight had fallen. It had been late afternoon when he had cut the +tree. His hand stole along his body; and then, for the first time, a +hideous sickness came upon him. His hand was warm and wet when he +brought it up. The other hand he couldn't stretch at all. + +The forest was silent around him, except a bird calling somewhere near +the house--a full voice, rich and clear, and it seemed to him that it +had a quality of distress. Then he recognized it. It was the voice of +his own daughter, Snowbird, calling for him. He tried to answer her. + +It was only a whisper, at first. Yet she was coming nearer; and her own +voice sounded louder. "Here, Snowbird," he called again. She heard him +then: he could tell by the startled tone of her reply. The next instant +she was at his side, her tears dropping on his face. + +With a tremendous effort of will, he recalled his speeding faculties. "I +don't think I'm badly hurt," he told her very quietly. "A few ribs +broken--and a leg. But we'll have to winter here on the Divide, Snowbird +mine." + +"What does it matter, if you live," she cried. She crawled along the +pine needles beside him, and tore his shirt from his breast. He was +rapidly sinking into unconsciousness. The thing she dreaded most--that +his back might be broken--was evidently not true. There were, as he +said, broken ribs and evidently one severe fracture of the leg bone. +Whether he had sustained internal injuries that would end his life +before the morning, she had no way of knowing. + +At that point, the problem of saving her father's life fell wholly into +her hands. It was perfectly plain that he could not aid himself in the +slightest way. It was evident, also, he could not be moved, except +possibly for the distance to the house. She banished all impulse toward +hysteria and at once began to consider all phases of the case. + +His broken body could not be carried over the mountain road to +physicians in the valleys. They must be transported to the ranch. It +would take them a full day to make the trip, even if she could get word +to them at once; and twenty-four hours without medical attention would +probably cost her father his life. The nearest telephone was at the +ranger station, twelve miles distant over a mountain trail. The +telephone line to Bald Mountain, four miles off, had been disconnected +when the rains had ended the peril of the forest fire. + +It all depended upon her. Bill was driving cattle into the valleys, and +he and his men had in use all the horses on the ranch with one +exception. The remaining horse had been ridden by Dan to some distant +marshes, and as Dan would shoot until sunset, that meant he would not +return until ten o'clock. There was no road for a car to the ranger +station, only a rough steep trail, and she remembered, with a sinking +heart, that one of Bill's missions in the valley was to procure a new +lighting system. By no conceivable possibility could she drive down that +mountain road in the darkness. But she was somewhat relieved by the +thought that in all probability she could walk twelve miles across the +mountains to the ranger station in much less time than she could drive, +by automobile, seventy miles down to the ranches at the foothills about +the valley. + +Besides, she remembered with a gladdening heart that Richards, one of +the rangers, had been a student at a medical college and had taken a +position with the Forest Service to regain his health. She would cross +the ridge to the station, 'phone for a doctor in the valleys, and would +return on horseback with Richards for such first aid as he could give. +The only problem that remained was that of getting her father into the +house. + +He was stirring a little now. Evidently consciousness was returning to +him. And then she thanked Heaven for the few simple lessons in first aid +that her father had taught her in the days before his carelessness had +come upon him. He had been wise enough to know that rare would be her +fortune if sometime she did not have need of such knowledge. + +One of his lessons had been that of carrying an unconscious human +form,--a method by which even a woman may carry, for a short distance, a +heavy man. It was approximately the method used in carrying wounded in +No Man's Land: the body thrown over the shoulders, one arm through the +fork of the legs to the wounded man's hand. Her father was not a +particularly heavy man, and she was an exceptionally strong young woman. +She knew at once that this problem was solved. + +The hardest part was lifting him to her shoulders. Only by calling upon +her last ounce of strength, and tugging upward with her arms, was she +able to do it. But it was fairly easy, in her desperation, to carry him +down the hill. What rest she got she took by leaning against a tree, the +limp body still across her shoulders. + +It was a distance of one hundred yards in all. No muscles but those +trained by the outdoors, no lungs except those made strong by the +mountain air, could have stood that test. She laid him on his own bed, +on the lower floor, and set his broken limbs the best she could. She +covered him up with thick, fleecy blankets, and set a bottle of whisky +beside the bed. Then she wrote a note to Dan and fastened it upon one of +the interior doors. + +She had learned, long ago, the value of frequent rests. She did not fly +at once to her long tramp. For three minutes she lay perfectly limp on +the fireplace divan, resting from the exertion of carrying her father +down the hill. Then she drew on her hob-nailed boots--needed sorely for +the steep climb--and pocketed her pistol. She thrust a handful of jerked +venison into the pocket of her coat and lighted the lantern. The forest +night had fallen, soft and vibrant and tremulous, over the heads of the +dark trees when she started out. + +Far away on a distant hillside, Whisperfoot the cougar howled and +complained because he could find no deer. + + + + +IX + + +Snowbird felt very glad of her intimate, accurate knowledge of the whole +region of the Divide. In her infancy the winding trails had been her +playground, and long ago she had acquired the mountaineer's sixth sense +for traversing them at night. She had need of that knowledge now. The +moon was dim beneath thin clouds, and the lantern she carried did not +promise much aid. The glass was rather smoked from previous burnings, +and its flame glowed dully and threatened to go out altogether. It cast +a few lame beams on the trail beneath her feet; but they perished +quickly in the expanse of darkness. + +She slipped into her free, swinging stride; and the last beams from the +windows of the house were soon lost in the pines behind her. It was one +of those silent, breathless nights with which no mountaineer is entirely +unacquainted, and for a long tune the only sound she could hear was her +own soft tramp in the pine needles. The trees themselves were +motionless. That peculiar sound, not greatly different from that of +running water which the wind often makes in the pine tops, was entirely +lacking. Not that she could be deceived by it,--as stories tell that +certain tenderfeet, dying of thirst in the barren hills, have been. But +she always liked the sound; and she missed it especially to-night. + +She felt that if she would stop to listen, there would be many faint +sounds in the thickets,--those little hushed noises that the wild things +make to remind night-wanderers of their presence. But she did not in the +least care to hear these sounds. They do not tend toward peace of mind +on a long walk over the ridges. + +The wilderness began at once. Whatever influence toward civilization her +father's house had brought to the wilds chopped off as beneath a blade +in the first fringe of pines. This is altogether characteristic of the +Oregon forests. They are much too big and too old to be tamed in any +large degree by the presence of one house. No one knew this fact better +than Lennox himself who, in a hard winter of four years before, had +looked out of his window to find the wolf pack ranged in a hungry circle +about his house. Within two hundred yards after she had passed through +her father's door, she was perfectly aware that the wild was stirring +and throbbing with life about her. At first she tried very hard to think +of other things. But the attempt wasn't entirely a success. And before +she had covered the first of the twelve miles, the sounds that from the +first had been knocking at the door of her consciousness began to make +an entrance. + +If a person lies still long enough, he can usually hear his heart +beating and the flow of his blood in his arteries. Any sound, no matter +how faint, will make itself heard at last. It was this way with a very +peculiar noise that crept up through the silence from the trail behind +her. She wouldn't give it any heed at first. But in a very little while +indeed, it grew so insistent that she could no longer disregard it. + +Some living creature was trotting along on the trail behind, keeping +approximately the same distance between them. + +Foregoing any attempt to ignore it, she set her cool young mind to +thinking what manner of beast it might be. Its step was not greatly +different from that of a large dog,--except possibly a dog would have +made slightly more noise. Yet she couldn't even be sure of this basic +premise, because this animal, whatever it might be, had at first +seemingly moved with utmost caution, but now took less care with its +step than is customary with the wild denizens of the woods. A wolf, for +instance, can simply drift when it wishes, and the silence of a cougar +is a name. Yet unless her pursuer were a dog, which seemed entirely +unlikely, it was certainly one of these two. She would have liked very +much to believe the step was that of Old Woof, the bear, suddenly +curious as to what this dim light of hers might be; but she couldn't +bring herself to accept the lie. Woof, except when wounded or cornered, +is the most amiable creature in the Oregon woods, and it would give her +almost a sense of security to have him waddling along behind her. The +wolves and cougar, remembering the arms of Woof, would not be nearly so +curious. But unfortunately, the black bear had never done such a thing +in the memory of man, and if he had, he would have made six times as +much noise. He can go fairly softly when he is stalking, but when he is +obliged to trot--as he would be obliged to do to keep up with a +swift-walking human figure--he cracks twigs like a rolling log. She had +the impression that the animal behind had been passing like smoke at +first, but wasn't taking the trouble to do it now. + +The sound was a soft _pat-pat_ on the trail,--sometimes entirely +obliterated but always recurring when she began to believe that she had +only fancied its presence. Sometimes a twig, rain-soaked though it was, +cracked beneath a heavy foot, and again and again she heard the brush +crushing and rustling as something passed through. Behind it all, a +weird _motif_, remained the _pat-pat_ of cushioned feet. Sometimes, when +the trail was covered with soft pine needles, it was practically +indistinguishable. She had to strain to hear it,--and it is not pleasing +to the spirit to have to strain to hear any sound. On the bare, +rain-packed earth, even untrained plainsmen's ears could not possibly +doubt the reality of the sound. + +The animal was approximately one hundred feet behind. It wasn't a wolf, +she thought. The wolves ran in packs this season, and except in winter +were more afraid of human beings than any other living creature. It +wasn't a lynx--one of those curiosity-devoured little felines that will +mew all day on a trail and never dare come near. It was much too large +for a lynx. The feet fell too solidly. She had already given up the idea +that it could be Woof. There were no dogs in the mountains to follow at +heel; and she had no desire whatever to meet Shag, the faithful hybrid +that used to be her guardian in the hills. For Shag had gone to his +well-deserved rest several seasons before. Two other possibilities +remained. One was that this follower was a human being, the other that +it was a cougar. + +Ordinarily a human being is much more potentially dangerous to a woman +in the hills at night than a cougar. A cougar is an abject coward and +some men are not. But Snowbird felt herself entirely capable of handling +any human foes. They would have no advantage over her; they would have +no purpose in killing from ambush; and she trusted to her own +marksmanship implicitly. While it is an extremely difficult thing to +shoot at a cougar leaping from the thicket, a tall man standing on a +trail presents an easy target. Besides, she had a vague sense of +discomfort that if this animal were a cougar, he wasn't acting true to +form. He was altogether too bold. + +She knew perfectly that many times since men came to live in the +pine-clad mountains they have been followed by the great, tawny cats. +Curiosity had something to do with it, and perhaps less pleasing +reasons. But any dreadful instincts that such a cat may have, he utterly +lacks courage to obey. He has an inborn fear of men, a fear that goes +down to the roots of the world, and he simply doesn't dare make an +attack. It was always a rather distressing experience, but nothing ever +came of it except a good tale around a fireside. But most of these +episodes, Snowbird remembered, occurred either in daylight or in the dry +season. The reason was obviously that in the damp woods or at night a +stalking cougar cannot be perceived by human senses. Her own senses +could perceive this animal all too plainly,--and the fact suggested +unpleasant possibilities. + +The animal on the trail behind her was taking no care at all to go +silently. He was simply pat-patting along, wholly at his ease. He acted +as if the fear that men have instilled in his breed was somehow missing. +And that is why she instinctively tried to hurry on the trail. + +The step kept pace. For a long mile, up a barren ridge, she heard every +step it made. Then, as the brush closed deeper around her, she couldn't +hear it at all. + +She hurried on, straining to the silence. No, the sound was stopped. +Could it be that the animal, fearful at last, had turned from her trail? +And then for the first time a gasp that was not greatly different from a +despairing sob caught at her throat. She heard the steps again, and they +were in the thickets just beside her. + + * * * * * + +Two hours before Snowbird had left the house, on her long tramp to the +ranger station, Dan had started home. He hadn't shot until sunset, as he +had planned. The rear guard of the waterfowl--hardy birds who spent most +of the winter in the Lake region and which had come south in the great +flight that had been completed some weeks before--had passed in hundreds +over his blind, and he had obtained the limit he had set upon +himself--ten drake mallards--by four o'clock in the afternoon. If he had +stayed to shoot longer, his birds would have been wasted. So he started +back along a certain winding trail that led through the thickets and +which would, if followed long enough, carry him to the road that led to +the valleys. + +He rode one of Lennox's cattle ponies, the only piece of horse-flesh +that Bill had not taken to the valleys when he had driven down the +livestock. She was a pretty bay, a spirited, high-bred mare that could +whip about on her hind legs at the touch of the rein on her neck. She +made good time along the trail. And an hour before sunset he passed the +only human habitation between the marsh and Lennox's house,--the cabin +that had been recently occupied by Landy Hildreth. + +He glanced at the place as he passed and saw that it was deserted. No +smell of wood smoke remained in the air. Evidently Landy had gone down +to the settlements with his precious testimony in regard to the arson +ring. Yet it was curious that no word had been heard of him. As far as +Dan knew, neither the courts nor the Forest Service had taken action. + +He hurried on, four miles farther. The trail entered the heavy thickets, +and he had to ride slowly. It was as wild a section as could be found on +the whole Divide. Once a deer leaped from the trail, and once he heard +Woof grunting in the thickets. And just as he came to a little cleared +space, three strange, dark birds flung up on wide-spreading wings. + +He knew them at once. All mountaineers come to know them before their +days are done. They were the buzzards, the followers of the dead. And +what they were doing in the thicket just beside the trail, Dan did not +dare to think. + +Of course they might be feeding on the body of a deer, mortally wounded +by some hunter. He resolved to ride by without investigating. He glanced +up. The buzzards were hovering in the sky, evidently waiting for him to +pass. Then, mostly to relieve a curious sense of discomfort in his own +mind, he stopped his horse and dismounted. + +The twilight had started to fall, and already its first grayness had +begun to soften the harder lines of forest and hill. And after his +first glance at the curious white heap beside the trail, he was +extremely glad that it had. But there was no chance to mistake the +thing. The elements and much more terrible agents had each wrought their +change, yet there was grisly evidence in plenty to show what had +occurred. Dan didn't doubt for an instant but that it was the skeleton +of Landy Hildreth. + +He forced himself to go nearer. The buzzards were almost done, and one +white bone from the shoulder gave unmistakable evidence of the passage +of a bullet. What had happened thereafter, he could only guess. + +He got back quickly on his horse. He understood, now, why nothing had +been heard of the evidence that Landy Hildreth was to turn over to the +courts as to the activities of the arson ring. Some one--probably Bert +Cranston himself--had been waiting on the trail. Others had come +thereafter. And his lips set in his resolve to let this murder measure +in the debt he had to pay Cranston. + +The Lennox house seemed very silent when, almost an hour later, he +turned his horse into the corral. He had rather hoped that Snowbird +would be at the door to meet him. The darkness had just fallen, and all +the lamps were lighted. He strode into the living room, warming his +hands an instant beside the fireplace. The fire needed fuel. It had +evidently been neglected for nearly an hour. + +Then he called Snowbird. His voice echoed in the silent room, +unanswered. He called again, then went to look for her. At the door of +the dining room he found the note that she had left for him. + +It told, very simply and plainly, that her father lay injured in his +bed, and he was to remain and do what he could for him. She had gone for +help to the ranger station. + +He leaped through the rooms to Lennox's door, then went in on tiptoe. +And the first thing he saw when he opened the door was the grizzled +man's gray face on the pillow. + +"You're home early, Dan," he said. "How many did you get?" + +It was entirely characteristic. Shaggy old Woof is too proud to howl +over the wounds that lay him low, and this gray old bear on the bed had +partaken of his spirit. + +"Good Lord," Dan answered. "How badly are you hurt?" + +"Not so bad but that I'm sorry that Snowbird has gone drifting twelve +miles over the hills for help. It's dark as pitch." + +And it was. Dan could scarcely make out the outline of the somber ridges +against the sky. + +They talked on, and their subject was whether Dan should remain to take +care of Lennox, or whether he should attempt to overtake Snowbird with +the horse. Of course the girl had ordered him to stay. Lennox, on the +other hand, said that Dan could not help him in the least, and desired +him to follow the girl. + +"I'm not often anxious about her," he said slowly. "But it is a long +walk through the wildest part of the Divide. She's got nothing but a +pistol and a lantern that won't shine. Besides--I've had bad dreams." + +"You don't mean--" Dan's words came hard--"that she's in any danger from +the animals--the cougars--or the wolves?" + +"Barring accidents, no. But, Dan--I want you to go. I'm resting fairly +easily, and there's whisky on the table in case of a pinch. Someway--I +can't bar accidents to-night. I don't like to think of her on those +mountains alone." + +And remembering what had lain beside the trail, Dan felt the same. He +had heard, long ago, that any animal that has once tasted human flesh +loses its fear of men and is never to be trusted again. Some wild animal +that still hunted the ridges had, in the last month, done just that +thing. He left the room and walked softly to the door. + +The night lay silent and mysterious over the Divide. He stood listening. +The girl had started only an hour before, and it was unlikely that she +could have traversed more than two miles of the steep trail in that +time. He could fancy her toiling ever upward, somewhere on the dark +ridge that lay beyond. Although the horse ordinarily did not climb a +hill more swiftly than a human being, he didn't doubt but that he could +overtake her before she went three miles farther. But where lay his +duty,--with the injured man in the house or with the daughter on her +errand of mercy in the darkness? + +Then the matter was decided for him. So faint that it only whispered at +the dim, outer frontiers of hearing, a sound came pricking through the +darkness. Only his months of listening to the faint sounds of the +forest, and the incredible silence of the night enabled him to hear it +at all. But he knew what it was, the report of a pistol. Snowbird had +met an enemy in the darkness. + +He called once to Lennox, snatched the shotgun that still stood where he +had placed it in the corner of the room, and hastened to the corral. The +mare whickered plaintively when he took her from her food. + + + + +X + + +Even in the darkest night, there is one light that never brings hope or +cannot lead. It is not a twinkling, joyous light like that mysterious +will-o'-the-wisp that now and again has lured travelers into the marshes +to their death. Nor can any one ever mistake it, or be soothed and +cheered by it. It always appears the same way,--two green circles, close +together, in the darkness. + +When Snowbird first heard the step in the thickets beside her, she +halted bravely and held her lantern high. She understood at last. The +very extremity of the beams found a reflection in two very curious +circles of greenish fire: a fire that was old upon the world before man +ever rubbed two sticks together to strike a flame. Of course the dim +rays had simply been reflected on the eyes of some great beast of prey. + +She identified it at once. Only the eyes of the felines, with vertical +pupils, have this identical greenish glare. The eyes of the wolves glow +in the darkness, but the circles are usually just bright points. Of +course it was a cougar. + +She didn't cry out again. Realizing at last the reality of her peril, +her long training in the mountains came to her aid. That did not mean +she was not truly and terribly afraid. The sight of the eyes of a +hunting animal in the darkness calls up memories from the +germ-plasm,--deep-buried horrors of thousands of generations past, when +such lights glowed all about the mouth of the cave. Besides, the beast +was hunting _her_. She couldn't doubt this fact. Curiosity might make a +lion follow her, but it would never beget such a wild light of madness +in his eyes as this she had just seen. Only the frenzied pulse of wild +blood through the fine vessels of the corneas could occasion such a glow +as this. She simply clamped down all her moral strength on her rising +hysteria and looked her situation in the face. Her hand flew +instinctively to her side, and the pistol leaped in the lantern light. + +But the eyes had already blinked out before she could raise the weapon. +She shot twice. The echoes roared back, unbelievably loud in the +silence, and then abruptly died; and the only sound was a rustling of +leaves as the cougar crouched. She sobbed once, then hurried on. + +She was afraid to listen at first. She wanted to believe that her pistol +fire would frighten the animal from her trail. She knew, under ordinary +conditions, that it would. If he still followed, it could mean but one +thing,--that some unheard-of incident had occurred to destroy his fear +of men. It would mean that he had knowingly set upon her trail and was +hunting her with all the age-old remorselessness that is the code of the +mountains. + +For a little while all was silence. Then out of the hush the thickets +suddenly crashed and shook on the opposite side of the trail. She fired +blindly into the thicket. Then she caught herself with a sob. But two +shells remained in her pistol, and they must be saved for the test. + +Whisperfoot the cougar, remembering the lessons of his youth, turned +from the trail when he had first heard Snowbird's step. He had crouched +and let her pass. She was walking into the wind; and as she was at the +closest point a message had blown back to him. + +The hair went straight on his shoulders and along his spine. His blood, +running cold an instant before from fear, made a great leap in his +veins. A picture came in his dark mind: the chase for a deer when the +moon had set, the stir of a living thing that broke twigs in the +thickets, and the leap he had made. There had been blood, that +night,--the wildness and the madness and the exultation of the kill. Of +course there had been terror first, but the terror had soon departed and +left something lying warm and still in the thickets. It was the same +game that walked his trail in front--game that died easily and yet, in a +vague way he did not understand, the noblest game of all. It was living +flesh, to tear with talon and fang. + +All his training, all the instincts imbued in him by a thousand +generations of cougars who knew this greatest fear, were simply +obliterated by the sudden violence of his hunting-madness. He had tasted +this blood once, and it could never be forgotten. The flame leaped in +his eyes. And then he began the stalk. + +A cougar, trying to creep silently on its game, does not move quickly. +It simply steals, as a serpent steals through the grass. Whisperfoot +stalked for a period of five minutes, to learn that the prey was farther +away from him at every step. + +He trotted forward until he came close, and again he stalked. Again he +found, after a few minutes of silent creeping through the thickets, that +he had lost distance. Evidently this game did not feed slowly, like the +deer. It was to be a chase then. Again he trotted within one hundred +feet of the girl. + +Three times more he tried to stalk before he finally gave it up +altogether. This game was like the porcupine,--simply to be chased down +and taken. As in the case of all animals that hunt their game by +overtaking it, there was no longer any occasion for going silently. The +thing to do was to come close and spring from the trail behind. + +Though the fear was mostly gone, the cougar retained enough of that +caution that most wild animals exhibit when hunting a new game so that +he didn't attempt to strike Snowbird down at once. But as the chase went +on, his passion grew upon him. Ever he crept nearer. And at last he +sprang full into the thickets beside her. + +At that instant she had shot for the first time. Because the light had +left his eyes before she could find aim, both shots had been clean +misses. And terrible as the reports were, he was too engrossed in the +chase to be frightened away by mere sound. This was the cry the man-pack +always made,--these sudden, startling sounds in the silence. But he felt +no pain. He crouched a moment, shivering. Then he bounded on again. + +The third shot was a miss too: in fact, there had been no chance for a +hit. A sound in the darkness is as unreliable a target as can possibly +be imagined. And it didn't frighten him as much as the others. + +Three times he crouched, preparing for a spring, and three times his +tawny tail began that little up-and-down motion that is always the +warning before his leap. But each time, as he waited to find his +courage, the game had hurried on. + +Now she had her back to a tree and was holding the lantern high. It +glinted on his eyes. And the fourth time she shot, and something hot and +strange singed by close to his head. But it wasn't the pain of one quill +from a porcupine, and it only increased his anger. He waited, crouching, +and the girl started on. + +She was making other sounds now--queer, whimpering sounds not greatly +different from the bleat that the fawn utters when it dies. It was a +fear-sound, and if there is one emotion with which the wild beasts are +acquainted, in all its phases, it is fear. She was afraid of him then, +and that meant he need no longer be in the least afraid of her. His skin +began to twitch all over with that terrible madness and passion of the +flesh-hunters. + +This game was like the deer, and the thing to do was lie in wait. There +was only one trail. He was simply following his instincts, no conscious +intelligence, when he made a long circle about her and turned back to +the trail two hundred yards in front. He wasn't afraid of losing her in +the darkness. She was neither fleet like the deer nor courageous like +Woof, the bear. He had only to wait and leap from the darkness when she +passed. + +And because this was his own way of hunting, because the experiences of +a thousand generations of cougars had taught him that it was the safest +way, that even an elk may be downed by a surprise leap from ambush, the +last of his fear went out of him. The step drew nearer, and he knew he +would not again be afraid to give his stroke. + + * * * * * + +When Dan Failing, riding like mad over the mountain trail, heard the +third shot from Snowbird's pistol, he felt that one of the debts he owed +had come due at last. He seemed to know, as the darkness pressed around +him, that he was to be tried in the fire. And the horse staggered +beneath him as he tried to hasten. + +He showed no mercy to his mount. Horseflesh isn't made for carrying a +heavy man over such a trail as this, and she was red-nostriled and +lathered before half a mile had been covered. He made her leap up the +rocks, and on the fairly level stretches he loosed the reins and lashed +her into a gallop. Only a mountain horse could have stood that test. To +Dan's eyes, the darkness was absolute; yet she kept straight to the +trail. He made no attempt to guide her. She bounded over logs that he +couldn't see, and followed turn after turn in the trail without ever a +misstep. + +He gave no thought to his own safety. His courage was at the test, and +no risk of his own life must interfere with his attempt to save Snowbird +from the danger that threatened her. He didn't know when the horse would +fall with him and precipitate him down a precipice, and he was perfectly +aware that to crash into a low-hanging limb of one of the great trees +beside the trail would probably crush his skull. But he took the chance. +And before the ride was done he found himself pleading with the horse, +even as he lashed her sides with his whip. + +The lesser forest creatures sprang from his trail; and once the mare +leaped high to miss a dark shadow that crossed in front. As she caught +her stride, Dan heard a squeal and a rattle of quills that identified +the creature as a porcupine. + +By now he had passed the first of the worst grades, coming out upon a +long, easy slope of open forest. Again he urged his horse, leaving to +her keen senses alone the choosing of the path between the great tree +trunks. He rode almost in silence. The deep carpet of pine needles, wet +from the recent rains, dulled the sound of the horse's hoofs. + +Then he heard Snowbird fire for the fourth time; and he knew that he had +almost overtaken her. The report seemed to smash the air. And he lashed +his horse into the fastest run she knew,--a wild, sobbing figure in the +darkness. + +"She's only got one shot more," he said. He knew how many bullets her +pistol carried; and the danger--whatever it was--must be just at hand. +Underbrush cracked beneath him. And then the horse drew up with a jerk +that almost hurled him from the saddle. + +He lashed at her in vain. She was not afraid of the darkness and the +rocks of the trail, but some Terror in the woods in front had in an +instant broken his control over her. She reared, snorting; then danced +in an impotent circle. Meanwhile, precious seconds were fleeing. + +He understood now. The horse stood still, shivering beneath him, but +would not advance a step. The silence deepened. Somewhere in the +darkness before him a great cougar was waiting by the trail, and +Snowbird, hoping for the moment that it had given up the chase, was +hastening through the shadows squarely into its ambush. + +Whisperfoot crouched lower: and again his long serpent of a tail began +the little vertical motion that always precedes his leap. He had not +forgotten the wild rapture of that moment he had inadvertently sprung on +Landy Hildreth,--or how, after his terror had died, he had come creeping +back. He hunted his own way, waiting on the trail; and his madness was +at its height. He was not just Whisperfoot; the coward, that runs at the +shadow of a tall form in the thickets. The consummation was complete, +and that single experience of a month before had made of him a hunter of +men. His muscles set for the leap. + +So intent was he that his keen senses didn't detect the fact that there +was a curious echo to the girl's footsteps. Dan Failing had slipped down +from his terrified horse and was running up the trail behind her, +praying that he could be in time. + +Snowbird heard the pat, pat of his feet; but at first she did not dare +to hope that aid had come to her. She had thought of Dan as on the +far-away marshes; and her father, the only other living occupant of this +part of the Divide, might even now be lying dead in his house. In her +terror, she had lost all power of interpretation of events. The sound +might be the cougar's mate, or even the wolf pack, jealous of his game. +Sobbing, she hurried on into Whisperfoot's ambush. + +Then she heard a voice, and it seemed to be calling to her. +"Snowbird--I'm coming, Snowbird," a man's strong voice was shouting. She +whirled with a sob of thankfulness. + +At that instant the cougar sprang. + +Terrified though she was, Snowbird's reflexes had kept sure and true. +Even as the great cat leaped, a long, lithe shadow out of the shadow, +her finger pressed back against the trigger of her pistol. She had been +carrying her gun in front of her, and she fired it, this last time, with +no conscious effort. It was just a last instinctive effort to defend +herself. + +One other element affected the issue. She had whirled to answer Dan's +cry just as the cougar left the ground. But she had still been in range. +The only effect was to lessen, in some degree, the accuracy of the +spring. The bullet caught the beast in mid-air; but even if it had +reached its heart, the momentum of the attack was too great to be +completely overcome. Snowbird only knew that some vast, resistless power +had struck her, and that the darkness seemed to roar and explode about +her. + +Hurled to her face in the trail, she did not see the cougar sprawl on +the earth beside her. The flame in the lantern almost flicked out as it +fell from her hand, then flashed up and down, from the deepest gloom to +a vivid glare with something of the effect of lightning flickering in +the sky. Nor did she hear the first frenzied thrashing of the wounded +animal. Kindly unconsciousness had fallen, obscuring this and also the +sight of the great cat, in the agony of its wound, creeping with broken +shoulder and bared claws across the pine needles toward her defenseless +body. + +But the terrible fangs were never to know her white flesh. Some one had +come between. There was no chance to shoot: Whisperfoot and the girl +were too near together for that. But one course remained; and there was +not even time to count the cost. In this most terrible moment of Dan +Failing's life, there was not even an instant's hesitation. He did not +know that Whisperfoot was wounded. He saw the beast creeping forward in +the weird dancing light of the fallen lantern, and he only knew that his +flesh, not hers, must resist its rending talons. Nothing else mattered. +No other considerations could come between. + +It was the test; and Dan's instincts prompted coolly and well. He +leaped with all his strength. The cougar bounded into his arms, not upon +the prone body of the girl. And she opened her eyes to hear a curious +thrashing in the pine needles, a strange grim battle that, as the +lantern flashed out, was hidden in the darkness. + +And that battle, in the far reaches of the Divide, passed into a legend. +It was the tale of how Dan Failing, his gun knocked from his hands as he +met the cougar's leap, with his own unaided arms kept the life-giving +breath from the animal's lungs and killed him in the pine needles. Claw +and fang and the frenzy of death could not matter at all. + +Thus Failing established before all men his right to the name he bore. +And thus he paid one of his debts--life for a life, as the code of the +forest has always decreed--and in the fire of danger and pain his metal +was tried and proven. + + + + +BOOK THREE + +THE PAYMENT + + + + +I + + +The Lennox home, in the far wilderness of the Umpqua Divide, looked +rather like an emergency hospital for the first few days after Dan's +fight with Whisperfoot. Its old sounds of laughter and talk were almost +entirely lacking. Two injured men and a girl recovering from a nervous +collapse do not tend toward cheer. + +But the natural sturdiness of all three quickly came to their aid. Of +course Lennox had been severely injured by the falling log, and many +weeks would pass before he would be able to walk again. He could sit up +for short periods, however; had the partial use of one arm; and could +propel himself--after the first few weeks--at a snail's pace through the +rooms in a rude wheel chair that Bill's ingenuity had contrived. The +great livid scratches that Dan bore on his body quickly began to heal; +and before a week was done, he began to venture forth on the hills +again. Snowbird had remained in bed for three days: then she had hopped +out, one bright afternoon, swearing never to go back into it again. +Evidently the crisp, fall air of the mountains had been a nerve tonic +for them all. + +Of course there had been medical attention. A doctor and a nurse had +motored up the day after the accident; the physician had set the bones +and departed, and the nurse remained for a week, to see the grizzled +mountaineer well on the way of convalescence. But it was an anxious +wait, and Lennox's car was kept constantly in readiness to speed her +away in case the snows should start. At last she had left him in +Snowbird's hands, and Bill had driven her back to the settlements in his +father's car. The die was now cast as to whether or not Dan and the +remainder of the family should winter in the mountains. The snow clouds +deepened every day, the frost was ever heavier in the dawns, and the +road would surely remain open only a few days more. + +Once more the three seemingly had the Divide all to themselves. Bert +Cranston had evidently deserted his cabin and was working a trap-line on +the Umpqua side. The rangers left the little station, all danger of fire +past, and went down to their offices in the Federal building of one of +the little cities below. Because he was worse than useless in the deep +snows that were sure to come, one of the ranch hands that had driven up +with Bill rode away to the valleys the last of the live stock,--the +horse that Dan had ridden to Snowbird's defense. + +Nothing had been heard of Landy Hildreth, who used to live on the trail +to the marsh, and both Lennox and his daughter wondered why. There were +also certain officials who had begun to be curious. As yet, Dan had told +no one of the grim find he had made on his return from hunting. And he +would have found it an extremely difficult fact to explain. + +It all went back to those inner springs of motive that few men can see +clearly enough within themselves to recognize. Even the first day, when +he lay burning from his wounds, he worked out his own explanation in +regard to the murder mystery. He hadn't the slightest doubt but that +Cranston had killed Hildreth to prevent his testimony from reaching the +courts below. Of course any other member of the arson ring of hillmen +might have been the murderer; yet Dan was inclined to believe that +Cranston, the leader of the gang, usually preferred to do such dangerous +work as this himself. If it were true, somewhere on that tree-clad ridge +clues would be left. By a law that went down to the roots of life, he +knew, no action is so small but that it leaves its mark. Moreover, it +was wholly possible that the written testimony Hildreth must have +gathered had never been found or destroyed. Dan didn't want the aid of +the courts to find these clues. He wanted to work out the case himself. +It resolved itself into a simple matter of vengeance: Dan had his debt +to pay, and he wanted to bring Cranston to ruin by his own hand alone. + +While it was true that he took rather more than the casual interest that +most citizens feel in the destruction of the forest by wanton fire, and +had an actual sense of duty to do all that he could to stop the +activities of the arson ring, his motives, stripped and bare, were +really not utilitarian. He had no particular interest in Hildreth's +case. He remembered him simply as one of Cranston's disreputable gang, a +poacher and a fire bug himself. When all is said and done, it remained +really a personal issue between Dan and Cranston. And personal issues +are frowned upon by law and society. Civilization has toiled up from the +darkness in a great measure to get away from them. But human nature +remains distressingly the same, and Dan's desire to pay his debt was a +distinctly human emotion. Sometime a breed will live upon the earth that +can get clear away from personal vengeance--from that age-old code of +the hills that demands a blow for a blow and a life for a life--but the +time is not yet. And after all, by all the standards of men as men, not +as read in idealistic philosophies, Dan's debt was entirely real. By the +light held high by his ancestors, he could not turn his other cheek. + +Just as soon as he was able, he went back to the scene of the murder. He +didn't know when the snow would come to cover what evidence there was. +It threatened every hour. Every wind promised it. The air was sharp and +cold, and no drop of rain could fall through it without crystallizing +into snow. The deer had all gone, and the burrowing people had sought +their holes. The bees worked no more in the winter flowers. Of all the +greater forest creatures, only the wolves and the bear remained,--the +former because their fear of men would not permit them to go down to the +lower hills, and the latter because of his knowledge that when food +became scarce, he could always burrow in the snow. No bear goes into +hibernation from choice. Wise old bachelor, he much prefers to keep just +as late hours as he can--as long as the eating places in the berry +thickets remain open. The cougars had all gone down with the deer, the +migratory birds had departed, and even the squirrels were in hiding. + +The scene didn't offer much in the way of clues. Of the body itself, +only a white heap of bones remained; for many and terrible had been the +agents at work upon them. The clothes, however, particularly the coat, +were practically intact. Gripping himself, Dan thrust his fingers into +its pockets, then into the pockets of the shirt and trousers. All papers +that would in any way serve to identify the murdered man, or tell what +his purpose had been in journeying down the trail the night of the +murder had been removed. Only one explanation presented itself. Cranston +had come before him, and searched the body himself. + +Dan looked about for tracks, and he was considerably surprised to find +the blurred, indistinct imprint of a shoe other than his own. He hadn't +the least hope that the tracks themselves would offer a clue to a +detective. They were too dim for that. The surprising fact was that +since the murder had been committed immediately before the fall rains, +the water had not completely washed them out. The only possibility +remaining was that Cranston had returned to the body after the week's +rain-fall. The track had been dimmed by the lighter rains that had +fallen since. + +But yet it was entirely to be expected that the examination of the body +would be an after-thought on Cranston's part. Possibly at first his +only thought was to kill and, following the prompting that has sent so +many murderers to the gallows, he had afterwards returned to the scene +of the crime to destroy any clues he might have left and to search the +body for any evidence against the arson ring. + +Dan's next thought was to follow along the trail and find Cranston's +ambush. Of course it would be in the direction of the settlement from +the body, as the bullet had entered from the front. He found it hard to +believe that Hildreth had fallen in the exact spot where the body lay. +Men journeying at night keep to the trail, and the white heap itself was +fully forty feet back from the trail in the thickets. Perhaps Cranston +had dragged it there to hide it from the sight of any one who might pass +along the lonely trail again; and it was a remote possibility that +Whisperfoot, coming in the night, had tugged it into the thickets for +dreadful purposes of his own. Likely the shot was fired when Hildreth +was in an open place on the trail; and Dan searched for the ambush with +this conclusion in mind. He walked back, looking for a thicket from +which such a spot would be visible. Something over fifty yards down he +found it; and he knew it by the empty brass rifle cartridge that lay +half buried in the wet leaves. + +The shell was of the same caliber as Cranston's hunting rifle. Dan's +hand shook as he put it in his pocket. + +Encouraged by this amazing find, he turned up the trail toward +Hildreth's cabin. It might be possible, he thought, that Hildreth had +left some of his testimony--perhaps such rudely scrawled letters as +Cranston had written him--in some forgotten drawer in his hut. It was +but a short walk for Dan's hardened legs, and he made it before +mid-afternoon. + +The search itself was wholly without result. But because he had time to +think as he climbed the ridge, because as he strode along beneath that +wintry sky he had a chance to consider every detail of the case, he was +able to start out on a new tack when, just before sunset, he returned to +the body. This new train of thought had as its basis that Cranston's +shot had not been deadly at once; that wounded, Hildreth had himself +crawled into the thickets where Whisperfoot had found him. And that +meant that he had to enlarge his search for such documents as Hildreth +had carried to include all the territory between the trail and the +location of the body. + +It was possibly a distance of forty feet, and getting down on his hands +and knees, Dan looked for any break in the shrubbery that would +indicate the path that the wounded Hildreth had taken. And it was ten +minutes well rewarded, as far as clearing up certain details of the +crime. His senses had been trained and sharpened by his months in the +wilderness, and he was able to back-track the wounded man from the +skeleton clear to the clearing on the trail where he had first fallen. +But as no clues presented themselves, he started to turn home. + +He walked twelve feet, then turned back. Out of the corner of his eye it +seemed to him that he had caught a flash of white, near the end of a +great, dead log beside the path that the wounded Hildreth had taken. It +was to the credit of his mountain training alone that his eye had been +keen enough to detect it; that it had been so faithfully recorded on his +consciousness; and that, knowing at last the importance of details, he +had turned back. For a moment he searched in vain. Evidently a yellow +leaf had deceived him. Once more he retraced his steps, trying to find +the position from which his eye had caught the glimpse of white. Then he +dived straight for the rotten end of the log. + +Into a little hollow in the bark, on the underside of the log, some hand +had thrust a small roll of papers. They were rain soaked now, and the +ink had dimmed and blotted; but Dan realized their significance. They +were the complete evidence that Hildreth had accumulated against the +arson ring,--letters that had passed back and forth between himself and +Cranston, a threat of murder from the former if Hildreth turned State's +evidence, and a signed statement of the arson activities of the ring by +Hildreth himself. They were not only enough to break up the ring and +send its members to prison; with the aid of the empty shell and other +circumstantial evidence, they could in all probability convict Bert +Cranston of murder. + +For a long time he stood with the shadows of the pines lengthening about +him, his gray eyes in curious shadow. For the moment a glimpse was given +him into the deep wells of the human soul; and understanding came to +him. Was there no balm for hatred even in the moment of death? Were men +unable to forget the themes and motives of their lives, even when the +shadows closed down upon them? Hildreth had known what hand had struck +him down. And even on the frontier of death, his first thought was to +hide his evidence where Cranston could not find it when he searched the +body, but where later it might be found by the detectives that were sure +to come. It was the old creed of a life for a life. He wanted his +evidence to be preserved,--not that right should be wronged, but so that +Cranston would be prosecuted and convicted and made to suffer. His +hatred of Cranston that had made him turn State's evidence in the first +place had been carried with him down into death. + +As Dan stood wondering, he thought he heard a twig crack on the trail +behind him, and he wondered what forest creature was still lingering on +the ridges at the eve of the snows. + + + + +II + + +The snow began to fall in earnest at midnight,--great, white flakes that +almost in an instant covered the leaves. It was the real beginning of +winter, and all living creatures knew it. The wolf pack sang to it from +the ridge,--a wild and plaintive song that made Bert Cranston, sleeping +in a lean-to on the Umpqua side of the Divide, swear and mutter in his +sleep. But he didn't really waken until Jim Gibbs, one of his gang, +returned from his secret mission. + +They wasted no words. Bert flung aside the blankets, lighted a candle, +and placed it out of the reach of the night wind. It cast queer shadows +in the lean-to and found a curious reflection in the steel points of his +eyes. His face looked swarthy and deep-lined in its light. + +"Well?" he demanded. "What did you find?" + +"Nothin'," Jim Gibbs answered gutturally. "If you ask me what I found +_out_, I might have somethin' to answer." + +"Then--" and Bert, after the manner of his kind, breathed an oath--"what +did you find out?" + +His tone, except for an added note of savagery, remained the same. Yet +his heart was thumping a great deal louder than he liked to have it. He +wasn't amused by his associate's play on words. Nor did he like the +man's knowing tone and his air of importance. Realizing that the snows +were at hand, he had sent Gibbs for a last search of the body, to find +and recover the evidence that Hildreth had against him and which had not +been revealed either on Hildreth's person or in his cabin. He had become +increasingly apprehensive about those letters he had written Hildreth, +and certain other documents that had been in his possession. He didn't +understand why they hadn't turned up. And now the snows had started, and +Jim Gibbs had returned empty-handed, but evidently not empty-minded. + +"I've found out that the body's been uncovered--and men are already +searchin' for clues. And moreover--I think they've found them." He +paused, weighing the effect of his words. His eyes glittered with +cunning. Rat that he was, he was wondering whether the time had arrived +to leave the ship. He had no intention of continuing to give his +services to a man with a rope-noose closing about him. And Cranston, +knowing this fact, hated him as he hated the buzzard that would claim +him in the end and tried to hide his apprehension. + +"Go on. Blat it out," Cranston ordered. "Or else go away and let me +sleep." + +It was a bluff; but it worked. If Gibbs had gone without speaking, +Cranston would have known no sleep that night. But the man became more +fawning. + +"I'm tellin' you, fast as I can," he went on, almost whining. "I went to +the cabin, just as you said. But I didn't get a chance to search it--" + +"Why not?" Cranston thundered. His voice reëchoed among the snow-wet +pines. + +"I'll tell you why! Because some one else--evidently a cop--was already +searchin' it. Both of us know there's nothin' there anyway. We've gone +over it too many times. After a while he went away--but I didn't turn +back yet. That wouldn't be Jim Gibbs. I shadowed him, just as you'd want +me to. And he went straight back to the body." + +"Yes?" Cranston had hard work curbing his impatience. Again Gibbs' eyes +were full of ominous speculations. + +"He stopped at the body, and it was plain he'd been there before. He +went crawling through the thickets, lookin' for clues. He done what you +and me never thought to do--lookin' all the way between the trail and +the body. He'd already found the brass shell you told me to get. At +least, it wasn't there when I looked, after he'd gone. You should've +thought of it before. But he found somethin' else a whole lot more +important--a roll of papers that Hildreth had chucked into an old pine +stump when he was dyin'. It was your fault, Cranston, for not gettin' +them that night. You needn't 've been afraid of any one hearin' the shot +and catching you red-handed. This detective stood and read 'em on the +trail. And you know--just as well as I do--what they were." + +"Damn you, I went back the next morning, as soon as I could see. And the +mountain lion had already been there. I went back lots of times since. +And that shell ain't nothing--but all the time I supposed I put it in my +pocket. You know how it is--a fellow throws his empty shell out by +habit." + +Gibbs' eyes grew more intent. What was this thing? Cranston's tone, +instead of commanding, was almost pleading. But the leader caught +himself at once. + +"I don't see why I need to explain any of that to you. What I want to +know is this: why you didn't shoot and get those papers away from him?" + +For an instant their eyes battled. But Gibbs had never the strength of +his leader. If he had, it would have been asserted long since. He sucked +in his breath, and his gaze fell away. It rested on Cranston's rifle, +that in some manner had been pulled up across his knees. And at once he +was cowed. He was never so fast with a gun as Cranston. + +"Blood on my hands, eh--same as on yours?" he mumbled, looking down. +"What do you think I want, a rope around my neck? These hills are big, +but the arm of the law has reached up before, and it might again. You +might as well know first as last I'm not goin' to do any killin's to +cover up your murders." + +"That comes of not going myself. You fool--if he gets that evidence down +to the courts, you're broken the same as me." + +"But I wouldn't get more'n a year or so, at most--and that's a heap +different from the gallows. I did aim at him--" + +"But you just lacked the guts to pull the trigger!" + +"I did, and I ain't ashamed of it. But besides--the snows are here now, +and he won't be able to even get word down to the valleys in six +months. If you want him killed so bad, do it yourself." + +This was a thought indeed. On the other hand, another murder might not +be necessary. Months would pass before the road would be opened, and in +the meantime Cranston could have a thousand chances to steal back the +accusing letters. Perhaps they would be guarded closely at first, but by +the late winter months they would be an old story, and a single raid on +the house might turn the trick. He didn't believe for an instant that +the man Gibbs had seen a detective. He had kept too close watch over the +roads for that. + +"A tall chap, in outing clothes--dark-haired and clean-shaven?" + +"Yes?" + +"Wears a tan hat?" + +"That's the man." + +"I know him--and I wish you'd punctured him. Why, you could've taken +those papers away from him and slapped his face, and he wouldn't have +put up his arms. And now he'll hide 'em somewhere--afraid to carry 'em +for fear he meets me. That's Failing--the tenderfoot that's been staying +at Lennox's. He's a lunger." + +"He didn't look like no lunger to me." + +"But no matter about that--it's just as I thought. And I'll get 'em +back--mark my little words." + +In the meantime the best thing to do was to move at once to his winter +trapping grounds,--a certain neglected region on the lower levels of the +North Fork. If at any time within the next few weeks, Dan should attempt +to carry word down to the settlements, he would be certain to pass +within view of this camp. But he knew that the chance of Dan starting +upon any such journey before the snow had melted was not one in a +thousand. To be caught in the Divide in the winter means to be snowed in +as completely as the Innuits of upper Greenland. No word could pass +except by a man on snowshoes. Really there was no urgency about this +matter of the evidence. + +Yet if the chance did come, if the house should be left unguarded, it +might play Cranston to make an immediate search. Dan would have no +reason for supposing that Cranston suspected his possession of the +letters; he would not be particularly watchful, and would probably +pigeonhole them until spring in Lennox's desk. + +And the truth was that Cranston had reasoned out the situation almost +perfectly. When Dan wakened in the morning, and the snow lay already a +foot deep over the wilderness world, he knew that he would have no +chance to act upon the Cranston case until the snows melted in the +spring. So he pushed all thought of it out of his mind and turned his +attention to more pleasant subjects. It was true that he read the +documents over twice as he lay in bed. Then he tied them into a neat +packet and put them away where they would be quickly available. Then he +thrust his head out of the window and let the great snowflakes sift down +upon his face. It was winter at last, the season that he loved. + +He didn't stir from the house, that first day of the storm. Snowbird and +he found plenty of pleasant things to do and talk about before the +roaring fire that he built in the grate. He was glad of the great pile +of wood that lay outside the door. It meant life itself, in this season. +Then Snowbird led him to the windows, and they watched the white drifts +pile up over the low underbrush. + +When finally the snowstorm ceased, five days later, the whole face of +the wilderness was changed. The buckbrush was mostly covered, the fences +were out of sight; the forest seemed a clear, clean sweep of white, +broken only by an occasional tall thicket and by the great, snow-covered +trees. + +When the clouds blew away, and the air grew clear, the temperature +began to fall. Dan had no way of knowing how low it went. Thermometers +were not considered essential at the Lennox home. But when his eyelids +congealed with the frost, and his mittens froze to the logs of firewood +that he carried through the door, and the pine trees exploded and +cracked in the darkness, he was correct in his belief that it was very, +very cold. + +But he loved the cold, and the silence and austerity that went with it. +The wilderness claimed him as never before. The rugged breed that were +his ancestors had struggled through such seasons as this and passed a +love of them down through the years to him. + +When the ice made a crust over the snow, he learned to walk on +snowshoes. At first there were pained ankles and endless floundering in +the drifts. But between the fall of fresh snow and the thaws that +softened the crust, he slowly mastered the art. Snowbird--and Dan never +realized the full significance of her name until he saw her flying with +incredible grace over the snow--laughed at him at first and ran him +races that would usually end in his falling head-first into a ten-foot +snowbank. She taught him how to ski and more than once she would stop in +the middle of an earnest bit of pedagogy to find that he wasn't +listening at all. He would seem to be fairly devouring her with his +eyes, delighting in the play of soft pinks and reds in her cheeks, and +drinking, as a man drinks wine, the amazing change of light and shadow +in her eyes. + +She seemed to blossom under his gaze. Not one of those short winter days +went by without the discovery of some new trait or little vanity to +astonish or delight him,--sometimes an unlooked-for tenderness toward +the weak, often a sweet, untainted philosophy of life, or perhaps just a +lowering of her eyelids in which her eyes would show lustrous through +the lashes, or some sweeping, exuberant gesture startlingly graceful. + +Lennox wakened one morning with the realization that this was one of the +hardest winters of his experience. More snow had fallen in the night and +had banked halfway up his windows. The last of the shrubbery--except for +the ends of a few tall bushes that would not hold the snow--was covered, +and the roofs of some of the lower outbuildings had somewhat the +impression of drowning things, striving desperately to keep their heads +above water. He began to be very glad of the abundant stores of +provisions that overcrowded his pantry--savory hams and bacons, dried +venison, sacks of potatoes and evaporated vegetables, and, of course, +canned goods past counting. With the high fire roaring in the grate, the +season held no ills for them. But sometimes, when the bitter cold came +down at twilight, and the moon looked like a thing of ice itself over +the snow, he began to wonder how the wild creatures who wintered on the +Divide were faring. Of course most of them were gone. Woof, long since, +had grunted and mumbled his way into a winter lair. But the wolves +remained, strange gray shadows on the snow, and possibly a few of the +hardier smaller creatures. + +More than once in those long winter nights their talk was chopped off +short by the song of the pack on some distant ridge. Sometime, when the +world is old, possibly a man will be born that can continue to talk and +keep his mind on his words while the wolf pack sings. But he is +certainly an unknown quantity to-day. The cry sets in vibration curious +memory chords, and for a moment the listener sees in his mind's eye his +ancient home in an ancient world,--Darkness and Fear and Eyes shining +about the cave. It carries him back, and he knows the wilderness as it +really is; and to have such knowledge dries up all inclination to talk, +as a sponge dries water. Of course the picture isn't entirely plain. It +is more a thing guessed at, a photograph in some dark part of an +under-consciousness that has constantly grown more dim as the centuries +have passed. Possibly sometime it will fade out altogether; and then a +man may continue to discuss the weather while the Song from the ridge +shudders in at the windows. But the world will be quite cold by then, +and no longer particularly interesting. And possibly even the wolves +themselves will then be tamed to play dead and speak pieces,--which +means the wilderness itself will be tamed. For as long as the wild +lasts, the pack will run through it in the winter. They were here in the +beginning, and in spite of constant war and constant hatred on the part +of men, they will be here in the end. The reason is just that they are +the symbol of the wilderness itself, and the idea of it continuing to +exist without them is stranger than that of a nation without a flag. + +It wasn't quite the same song that Dan had listened to in the first days +of fall. It had been triumphant then, and proud with the wilderness +pride. Of course it had been sad then, too, but it was more sad now. And +it was stranger, too, and crept farther into the souls of its listeners. +It was the song of strength that couldn't avail against the snow, +possibly of cold and the despair and courage of starvation. These three +that heard it were inured to the wilderness; but a moment was always +needed after its last note had died to regain their gayety. + +"They're getting lean and they're getting savage," Lennox said one +night, stretched on his divan before the fireplace. He was still unable +to walk; but the fractures were knitting slowly and the doctor had +promised that the summer would find him well. "If we had a dog, I +wouldn't offer much for his life. One of these days we'll find 'em in a +big circle around the house--and then we'll have to open up with the +rifles." + +But this picture appalled neither of his two young listeners. No wolf +pack can stand against three marksmen, armed with rifles and behind +oaken walls. + +Christmas came and passed, and January brought clear days and an +ineffective sun shining on the snow. These were the best days of all. +Every afternoon Dan and Snowbird would go out on their skis or on +snowshoes, unarmed except for the pistol that Snowbird carried in the +deep pocket of her mackinaw. "But why not?" Dan replied to Lennox's +objection. "She could kill five wolves with five shots, or pretty near +it, and you know well enough that that would hold 'em off till we got +home. They'd stop to eat the five. I have hard enough time keeping up +with her as it is, without carrying a rifle." And Lennox was content. +In the first place, the wolf pack has to be desperate indeed before it +will even threaten human beings; and knowing the coward that the wolf is +in the other three seasons, he couldn't bring himself to believe that +this point was reached. In the second, Dan had told the truth when he +said that five deaths, or even fewer, would repel the attack of any wolf +pack he had ever seen. There was just one troubling thought. He had +heard, long ago, and he had forgotten who had told him, that in the most +severe winters the wolves gather in particularly large packs; and a +quality in the song that they had heard at night seemed to bear it out. +The chorus had been exceptionally loud and strong, and he had been +unable to pick out individual voices. + +The snow was perfect for skiing. Previously their sport had been many +times interrupted either by the fall of fresh snow or a thaw that had +softened the snow crust; but now every afternoon was too perfect to +remain indoors. They shouted and romped in the silences, and they did +not dream but that they had the wilderness all to themselves. The fact +that one night Lennox's keen eyes had seen what looked like the glow of +a camp fire in the distance didn't affect this belief of theirs at all. +It was evidently just the phosphorus glowing in a rotten log from which +the winds had blown the snow. + +Once or twice they caught glimpses of wild life: once a grouse that had +buried in the snow flushed from their path and blew the snow-dust from +its wings; and once or twice they saw snowshoe rabbits bounding away on +flat feet over the drifts. But just one day they caught sight of a wolf. +They were on snowshoes on a particularly brilliant afternoon late in +January. + +He was a lone male, evidently a straggler from the pack, and he leaped +from the top of a tall thicket that had remained above the snow. The man +and the girl had entirely different reactions. Dan's first impression +was amazement at the animal's condition. It seemed to be in the last +stages of starvation: unbelievably gaunt, with rib bones showing plainly +even through the furry hide. Ordinarily the heavily furred animals do +not show signs of famine; but even an inexperienced eye could not make a +mistake in this case. The eyes were red, and they carried Dan back to +his first adventure in the Oregon forest--the day he had shot the mad +coyote. Snowbird thought of the beast only as an enemy. The wolves +killed her father's stock; they were brigands of the worst order; and +she shared the hatred of them that is a common trait of all primitive +peoples. Her hand whipped back, seized her pistol, and she fired twice +at the fleeing figure. + +The second shot was a hit: both of them saw the wolf go to its side, +then spring up and race on. Shouting, both of them sped after him. + +In a few moments he was out of sight among the distant trees, but they +found the blood-trail and mushed over the ridge. They expected at any +moment to find him lying dead; but the track led them on clear down the +next canyon. And now they cared not at all whether they found him: it +was simply a tramp in the out-of-doors; and both of them were young with +red blood in their veins. + +But all at once Dan stopped in his tracks. The girl sped on for six +paces before she missed the sound of his snowshoes; then she turned to +find him standing, wholly motionless, with eyes fixed upon her. + +It startled her, and she didn't know why. A companion abruptly freezing +in his path, his muscles inert, and his eyes filling with speculations +is always startling. When this occurs, it means simply that a thought so +compelling and engrossing that even the half-unconscious physical +functions, such as walking, cannot continue, has come into his mind. And +it is part of the old creed of self-preservation to dislike greatly to +be left out on any such thought as this. If danger is present, the +sooner it is identified the better. + +"What is it?" she demanded. + +He turned to her, curiously intent. "How many shells have you in that +pistol?" + +She took one breath and answered him. "It holds five, and I shot twice. +I haven't any others." + +"And I don't suppose it ever occurred to you to carry extra ones in your +pocket?" + +"Father is always telling me to--and several times I have. But I'd shoot +them away at target practice and forget to take any more. There was +never any danger--except that night with a cougar. I did intend to--but +what does it matter now?" + +"We're a couple of wise ones, going after that wolf with only three +shots to our name. Of course by himself he's harmless--but he's likely +enough to lead us straight toward the pack. And Snowbird--I didn't like +his looks. He's too gaunt, and he's too hungry--and I haven't a bit of +doubt he waited in that brush for us to come, intending to attack +us--and lost his nerve the last thing. That shows he's desperate. I +don't like him, and I wouldn't like his pack. And a whole pack might not +lose _its_ nerve." + +"Then you think we'd better turn back?" + +"Yes, I do, and not come out any more without a whole pocket of shells. +I'm going to carry my rifle, too, just as Lennox has always advised. +He's only got a flesh-wound. You saw what you did with two +cartridges--got in one flesh-wound. Three of 'em against a pack wouldn't +be a great deal of aid. I don't mean to say you can't shoot, but a +jumping, lively wolf is worse than a bird in the air. We've gone over +three miles; and he'd lead us ten miles farther--even if he didn't go to +the pack. Let's go back." + +"If you say so. But I don't think there's the least bit of danger. We +can always climb a tree." + +"And have 'em make a beautiful circle under it! They've got more +patience than we have--and we'd have to come down sometime. Your father +can't come to our help, you know. It's the sign of the tenderfoot not to +think there's any danger--and I'm not going to think that way any more." + +They turned back and mushed in silence a long time. + +"I suppose you'll think I'm a coward," Dan asked her humbly. + +"Only prudent, Dan," she answered, smiling. Whether she meant it, he did +not know. "I'm just beginning to understand that you--living here only a +few months--really know and understand all this better than I do." She +stretched her arms wide to the wilderness. "I guess it's your +instincts." + +"And I do understand," he told her earnestly. "I sensed danger back +there just as sure as I can see your face. That pack--and it's a big +one--is close; and it's terribly hungry. And you know--you can't help +but know--that the wolves are not to be trusted in famine times." + +"I know it only too well," she said. + +Then she paused and asked him about a strange grayness, like snow blown +by the wind, on the sky over the ridge. + + + + +III + + +Bert Cranston waited in a clump of exposed thicket on the hillside until +he saw two black dots, that he knew were Dan and Snowbird, leave the +Lennox home. He lay very still as they circled up the ridge, noticing +that except for the pistol that he knew Snowbird always carried, they +were unarmed. There was no particular reason why he should be interested +in that point. It was just the mountain way always to look for weapons, +and it is rather difficult to trace the mental processes behind this +impulse. Perhaps it can be laid to the fact that many mountain families +are often at feud with one another, and anything in the way of violence +may happen before the morning. + +The two passed out of his sight, and after a long time he heard the +crack of Snowbird's pistol. He guessed that she had either shot at some +wild creature, or else was merely at target practice,--rather a common +proceeding for the two when they were on the hills together. Thus it is +to be seen that Cranston knew their habits fairly well. And since he had +kept a close watch upon them for several days, this was to be expected. + +He had no intention of being interrupted in this work he was about to +do. He had planned it all very well. At first the intermittent +snow-storms and the thaws between had delayed him. He needed a perfect +snow crust for the long tramp over the ridge; and at last the bright +days and the icy dawns had made it. The elder Lennox was still helpless. +He had noticed that when Dan and Snowbird went out, they were usually +gone from two to four hours; and that gave him plenty of time for his +undertaking. The moment had come at last to make a thorough search of +Lennox's house for those incriminating documents that Dan had found near +the body of Landy Hildreth. + +The only really dangerous part of his undertaking was his approach. If +by any chance Lennox were looking out of the window, he might be found +waiting with a rifle across his arms. It would be quite like the old +mountaineer to have his gun beside him, and to shoot it quick and +exceptionally straight, without asking questions, at any stealing figure +in the snow. Yet Cranston felt fairly sure that Lennox was still too +helpless to raise a gun to a shooting position. + +He had observed that the mountaineer spent his time either on the +fireplace divan or on his own bed. Neither of these places was available +to the rear windows of the house. So, very wisely, he made his attack +from the rear. + +He came stealing across the snow,--a musher of the first degree. Very +silently and swiftly he slipped off his snowshoes at the door. The door +itself was unlocked, just as he had supposed. In an instant more he was +tiptoeing, a dark, silent figure, through the corridors of the house. He +held his rifle ready in his hands. + +He peered into Lennox's bedroom first. The room was unoccupied. Then the +floor of the corridor creaked beneath his step; and he knew nothing +further was to be gained by waiting. If Lennox suspected his presence, +he might be waiting with aimed rifle as he opened the door of the living +room. + +He glided faster. He halted once more,--a moment at the living-room door +to see if Lennox had been disturbed. He was lying still, however, so +Cranston pushed through. + +Lennox glanced up from his magazine to find that unmistakable thing, the +barrel of a rifle, pointed at his breast. Cranston was one of those +rare marksmen who shoots with both eyes open,--and that meant that he +kept his full visual powers to the last instant before the hammer fell. + +"I can't raise my arms," Lennox said simply. "One of 'em won't work at +all--besides, against the doctor's orders." + +Cranston stole over toward him, looking closely for weapons. He pulled +aside the woolen blanket that Lennox had drawn up over his body, and he +pushed his hand into the cushions of the couch. A few deft pats, holding +his rifle through the fork of his arm, finger coiled into the trigger +guard, assured him that Lennox was not "heeled" at all. Then he laughed +and went to work. + +"I thought I told you once," Lennox began with perfect coldness, "that +the doors of my house were no longer open to you." + +"You did say that," was Cranston's guttural reply. "But you see I'm here +just the same, don't you? And what are you going to do about it?" + +"I probably felt that sooner or later you would come to steal--just as +you and your crowd stole the supplies from the forest station last +winter--and that probably influenced me to give the orders. I didn't +want thieves around my house, and I don't want them now. I don't want +coyotes, either." + +"And I don't want any such remarks out of you, either," Cranston +answered him. "You lie still and shut up, and I suspect that sissy +boarder of yours will come back, after he's through embracing your +daughter in the snow, and find you in one piece. Otherwise not." + +"If I were in one piece," Lennox answered him very quietly, "instead of +a bundle of broken bones that can't lift its arms, I'd get up off this +couch, unarmed as I am, and stamp on your lying lips." + +But Cranston only laughed and tied Lennox's feet with a cord from the +window shade. + + * * * * * + +He went to work very systematically. First he rifled Lennox's desk in +the living room. Then he looked on all the mantels and ransacked the +cupboards and the drawers. He was taunting and calm at first. But as the +moments passed, his passion grew upon him. He no longer smiled. The +rodent features became intent; the eyes narrowed to curious, bright +slits under the dark lashes. He went to Dan's room, searched his bureau +drawer and all the pockets of the clothes hanging in his closet. He +upset his trunk and pawed among old letters in the suitcase. Then, +stealing like some creature of the wilderness, he came back to the +living room. + +Lennox was not on the divan where he had left him. He lay instead on the +floor near the fireplace; and he met the passion-drawn face with entire +calmness. His motives were perfectly plain. He had just made a desperate +effort to procure Dan's rifle that hung on two sets of deer horns over +the fireplace, and was entirely exhausted from it. He had succeeded in +getting down from the couch, though wracked by agony, but had been +unable to lift himself up in reach of the gun. + +Cranston read his intention in one glance. Lennox knew it, but he simply +didn't care. He had passed the point where anything seemed to matter. + +"Tell me where it is," Cranston ordered him. Again he pointed his rifle +at Lennox's wasted breast. + +"Tell you where what is? My money?" + +"You know what I want--and it isn't money. I mean those letters that +Failing found on the ridge. I'm through fooling, Lennox. Dan learned +that long ago, and it's time you learned it now." + +"Dan learned it because he was sick. He isn't sick now. Don't presume +too much on that." + +Cranston laughed with harsh scorn. "But that isn't the question. I said +I've wasted all the time I'm going to. You are an old man and helpless; +but I'm not going to let that stand in the way of getting what I came to +get. They're hidden somewhere around this house. They wouldn't be out in +the snow, because he'd want 'em where he could get them. By no means +would he carry them on his person--fearing that some day he'd meet me on +the ridge. He's a fool, but he ain't that much of a fool. I've watched, +and he's had no chance to take them into town. I'll give you--just five +seconds to tell me where they're hidden." + +"And I give you," Lennox replied, "one second less than that--to go to +Hell!" + +Both of them breathed hard in the quiet room. Cranston was trembling +now, shivering just a little in his arms and shoulders. "Don't get me +wrong, Lennox," he warned. + +"And don't have any delusions in regard to me, either," Lennox replied. +"I've stood worse pain, from this accident, than any man can give me +while I yet live, no matter what he does. If you want to get on me and +hammer me in the approved Cranston way, I can't defend myself--but you +won't get a civil answer out of me. I'm used to pain, and I can stand +it. I'm not used to fawning to a coyote like you, and I can't stand it." + +But Cranston hardly heard. An idea had flamed in his mind and cast a red +glamour over all the scene about him. It was instilling a poison in his +nerves and a madness in his blood, and it was searing him, like fire, in +his dark brain. Nothing seemed real. He suddenly bent forward, tense. + +"That's all right about you," he said. "But you'd be a little more +polite if it was Snowbird--and Dan--that would have to pay." + +Perhaps the color faded slightly in Lennox's face; but his voice did not +change. + +"They'll see your footprints before they come in and be ready," Lennox +replied evenly. "They always come by the back way. And even with a +pistol, Snowbird's a match for you." + +"Did you think that was what I meant?" Cranston scorned. "I know a way +to destroy those letters, and I'll do it--in the four seconds that I +said, unless you tell. I'm not even sure I'm goin' to give you a chance +to tell now; it's too good a scheme. There won't be any witnesses then +to yell around in the courts. What if I choose to set fire to this +house?" + +"It wouldn't surprise me a great deal. It's your own trade." Lennox +shuddered once on his place on the floor. + +"I wouldn't have to worry about those letters then, would I? They are +somewhere in the house, and they'd be burned to ashes. But that isn't +all that would be burned. You could maybe crawl out, but you couldn't +carry the guns, and you couldn't carry the pantry full of food. You're +nearly eighty miles up here from the nearest occupied house, with two +pair of snowshoes for the three of you and one dinky pistol. And you +can't walk at all. It would be a nice pickle, wouldn't it? Wouldn't you +have a fat chance of getting down to civilization?" + +The voice no longer held steady. It trembled with passion. This was no +idle threat. The brain had already seized upon the scheme with every +intention of carrying it out. Outside the snow glittered in the +sunlight, and pine limbs bowed with their load; overhung with that +curious winter silence that, once felt, returns often in dreams. The +wilderness lay stark and bare, stripped of all delusion--not only in the +snow world outside but in the hearts of these two men, its sons. + +"I have only one hope," Lennox replied. "I hope, unknown to me, that Dan +has already dispatched those letters. The arm of the law is long, +Cranston. It's easy to forget that fact up here. It will reach you in +the end." + +Cranston turned through the door, into the kitchen. He was gone a long +time. Lennox heard him at work: the crinkle of paper and then a pouring +sound around the walls. Then he heard the sharp crack of a match. An +instant later the first wisp of smoke came curling, pungent with burning +oil, through the corridor. + +"You crawled from your couch to reach that gun," Cranston told him when +he came in. "Let's see you crawl out now." + +Lennox's answer was a curse,--the last, dread outpouring of an unbroken +will. He didn't look again at the glittering eyes. He scarcely watched +Cranston's further preparations: the oil poured on the rugs and +furnishings, the kindling placed at the base of the curtains. Cranston +was trained in this work. He was taking no chances on the fire being +extinguished. And Lennox began to crawl toward the door. + +He managed to grasp the corner of the blanket on the divan as he went, +and he dragged it behind him. Pain wracked him, and smoke half-blinded +him. But he made it at last. And by the time he had crawled one hundred +feet over the snow crust, the whole structure was in flames. The red +tongues spoke with a roar. + +Cranston, the fire-madness on his face, hurried to the outbuildings. +There he repeated the work. He touched a match to the hay in the barn, +and the wind flung the flame through it in an instant. The sheds and +other outbuildings were treated with oil. And seeing that his work was +done, he called once to the prone body of Lennox on the snow and mushed +away into the silences. + +Lennox's answer was not a curse this time. Rather it was a prayer, +unuttered, and in his long years Lennox had not prayed often. When he +prayed at all, the words were burning fire. His prayer was that of +Samson,--that for a moment his strength might come back to him. + + + + +IV + + +Two miles across the ridges, Dan and Snowbird saw a faint mist blowing +between the trees. They didn't recognize it at first. It might be fine +snow, blown by the wind, or even one of those mysterious fogs that +sometimes sweep over the snow. + +"But it looks like smoke," Snowbird said. + +"But it couldn't be. The trees are too wet to burn." + +But then a sound that at first was just the faintest whisper in which +neither of them would let themselves believe, became distinct past all +denying. It was that menacing crackle of a great fire, that in the whole +world of sounds is perhaps the most terrible. They were trained by the +hills, and neither of them tried to mince words. They had learned to +face the truth, and they faced it now. + +"It's our house," Snowbird told him. "And father can't get out." + +She spoke very quietly. Perhaps the most terrible truths of life are +always spoken in that same quiet voice. Then both of them started across +the snow, fast as their unwieldy snowshoes would permit. + +"He can crawl a little," Dan called to her. "Don't give up, Snowbird +mine. I think he'll be safe." + +They mounted to the top of the ridge; and the long sweep of the forest +was revealed to them. The house was a singular tall pillar of flame, +already glowing that dreadful red from which firemen, despairing, turn +away. Then the girl seized his hands and danced about him in a mad +circle. + +"He's alive," she cried. "You can see him--just a dot on the snow. He +crawled out to safety." + +She turned and sped at a breakneck pace down the ridge. Dan had to race +to keep up with her. But it wasn't entirely wise to try to mush so fast. +A dead log lay beneath the snow with a broken limb stretched almost to +its surface, and it caught her snowshoe. The wood cracked sharply, and +she fell forward in the snow. But she wasn't hurt, and the snowshoe +itself, in spite of a small crack in the wood, was still serviceable. + +"Haste makes waste," he told her. "Keep your feet on the ground, +Snowbird; the house is gone already and your father is safe. Remember +what lies before us." + +The thought sobered and halted her. She glanced once at the dark face of +her companion. Dan couldn't understand the strange light that suddenly +leaped to her eyes. Perhaps she herself couldn't have explained the wave +of tenderness that swept over her,--with no cause except the look in +Dan's earnest gray eyes and the lines that cut so deep. Since the world +was new, it has been the boast of the boldest of men that they looked +their Fate in the face. And this is no mean looking. For fate is a sword +from the darkness, a power that reaches out of the mystery, and cannot +be classed with sights of human origin. It burns out the eyes of all but +the strongest men. Yet Dan was looking at his fate now, and his eyes +held straight. + +They walked together down to the ruined house, and the three of them sat +silent while the fire burned red. Then Lennox turned to them with a +half-smile. + +"You're wasting time, you two," he said. "Remember all our food is gone. +If you start now, and walk hard, maybe you can make it out." + +"There are several things to do first," Dan answered simply. + +"I don't know what they are. It isn't going to be any picnic, Dan. A man +can travel only so far without food to keep up his strength, +particularly over such ridges as you have to cross. It will be easy to +give up and die. It's the test, man; it's the test." + +"And what about you?" his daughter asked. + +"Oh, I'll be all right. Besides--it's the only thing that can be done. I +can't walk, and you can't carry me on your backs. What else remains? +I'll stay here--and I'll scrape together enough wood to keep a fire. +Then you can bring help." + +He kept his eyes averted when he talked. He was afraid for Dan to see +them, knowing that he could read the lie in them. + +"How do you expect to find wood--in this snow?" Dan asked him. "It will +take four days to get out; do you think you could lie here and battle +with a fire for four days, and then four days more that it will take to +come back? You'd have two choices: to burn green wood that I'd cut for +you before I left, or the rain-soaked dead wood under the snow. You +couldn't keep either one of them burning, and you'd die in a night. +Besides--this is no time for an unarmed man to be alone in the hills." + +Lennox's voice grew pleading. "Be sensible, Dan!" he cried. "That +Cranston's got us, and got us right. I've only one thing more I care +about--and that is that you pay the debt! I can't hope to get out +myself. I say that I can't even hope to. But if you bring my daughter +through--and when the spring comes, pay what we owe to Cranston--I'll be +content. Heavens, son--I've lived my life. The old pack leader dies when +his time comes, and so does a man." + +His daughter crept to him and sheltered his gray head against her +breast. "I'll stay with you then," she cried. + +"Don't be a little fool, Snowbird," he urged. "My clothes are wet +already from the melted snow. It's too long a way--it will be too hard a +fight, and children--I'm old and tired out. I don't want to make the +try--hunger and cold; and even if you'd stay here and grub wood, +Snowbird, they'd find us both dead when they came back in a week. We +can't live without food, and work and keep warm--and there isn't a +living creature in the hills." + +"Except the wolves," Dan reminded him. + +"Except the wolves," Lennox echoed. "Remember, we're unarmed--and they'd +find it out. You're young, Snowbird, and so is Dan--and you two will be +happy. I know how things are, you two--more than you know +yourselves--and in the end you'll be happy. But me--I'm too tired to +make the try. I don't care about it enough. I'm going to wave you +good-by, and smile, and lie here and let the cold come down. You feel +warm in a little while--" + +But she stopped his lips with her hand. And he bent and kissed it. + +"If anybody's going to stay with you," Dan told them in a clear, firm +voice, "it's going to be me. But aren't any of the cabins occupied?" + +"You know they aren't," Lennox answered. "Not even the houses beyond the +North Fork, even if we could get across. The nearest help is over +seventy miles." + +"And Snowbird, think! Haven't any supplies been left in the ranger +station?" + +"Not one thing," the girl told him. "You know Cranston and his crowd +robbed the place last winter. And the telephone lines were disconnected +when the rangers left." + +"Then the only way is for me to stay here. You can take the pistol, and +you'll have a fair chance of getting through. I'll grub wood for our +camp meanwhile, and you can bring help." + +"And if the wolves come, or if help didn't come in time," Lennox +whispered, passion-drawn for the first time, "who would pay what we owe +to Cranston?" + +"But her life counts--first of all." + +"I know it does--but mine doesn't count at all. Believe me, you two. I'm +speaking from my own desires when I say I don't want to make the fight. +Snowbird would never make it through alone. There are the wolves, and +maybe Cranston too--the worst wolf of all. A woman can't mush across +those ridges four days without food, without some one who loves her and +forces her on! Neither can she stay here with me and try to make green +branches burn in a fire. She's got three little pistol balls--and we'd +all die for a whim. Oh, please, please--" + +But Dan leaped for his hand with glowing eyes. "Listen, man!" he cried. +"I know another way yet. I know more than one way; but one, if we've got +the strength, is almost sure. There is an ax in the kitchen, and the +blade will still be good." + +"Likely dulled with the fire--" + +"I'll cut a limb with my jackknife for the handle. There will be nails +in the ashes, plenty of them. We'll make a rude sledge, and we'll get +you out too." + +Lennox seemed to be studying his wasted hands. "It's a chance, but it +isn't worth it," he said at last. "You'll have fight enough, without +tugging at a heavy sled. It will take all night to build it, and it +would cut down your chances of getting out by pretty near half. Remember +the ridges, Dan--" + +"But we'll climb every ridge--besides, its a slow, down grade most of +the way. Snowbird--tell him he must do it." + +Snowbird told him, overpowering him with her enthusiasm. And Dan shook +his shoulders with rough hands. "You're hurting, boy!" Lennox warned. +"I'm a bag of broken bones." + +"I'll tote you down there if I have to tie you in," Dan Failing replied. +"Before, I've bowed to your will; but this time you have to bow to mine. +I'm not going to let you stay here and die, no matter if you beg on your +knees! It's the test--and I'm going to bring you through." + +He meant what he said. If mortal strength and sinew could survive such a +test, he would succeed. There was nothing in these words to suggest the +physical weakling that both of them had known a few months before. The +eyes were earnest, the dark face intent, the determined voice did not +waver at all. + +"Dan Failing speaks!" Lennox replied with glowing eyes. He was recalling +another Dan Failing of the dead years, a boyhood hero, and his +remembered voice had never been more determined, more masterful than +this he had just heard. + +"And Cranston didn't get his purpose, after all." To prove his words, +Dan thrust his hand into his inner coat pocket. He drew forth a little, +flat package, half as thick as a pack of cards. He held it up for them +to see. "The thing Bert Cranston burned the house down to destroy," he +explained. "I'm learning to know this mountain breed, Lennox. I kept it +in my pocket where I could fight for it, at any minute." + +Cranston had been mistaken, after all, in thinking that in fear of +himself Dan would be afraid to keep the packet on his person, and would +cravenly conceal it in the house. He would have been even more surprised +to know that Dan had lived in constant hope of meeting Cranston on the +ridges, showing him what it contained, and fighting him for it, hands to +hands. And even yet, perhaps the day would come when Cranston would know +at last that Snowbird's words, after the fight of long ago, were true. + +The twilight was falling over the snow, so Snowbird and Dan turned to +the toil of building a sled. + + + + +V + + +The snow was steel-gray in the moonlight when the little party made +their start down the long trail. Their preparations, simple and crude as +they were, had taken hours of ceaseless labor on the part of the three. +The ax, its edge dulled by the flame and its handle burned away, had +been cooled in the snow, and with his one sound arm, Lennox had driven +the hot nails that Snowbird gathered from the ashes of one of the +outbuildings. The embers of the house itself still glowed red in the +darkness. + +Dan had cut the green limbs of the trees and planed them with his ax. +The sled had been completed, handles attached for pushing it, and a +piece of fence wire fastened with nails as a rope to pull it. The warm +mackinaws of both of them as well as the one blanket that Lennox had +saved from the fire were wrapped about the old frontiersman's wasted +body,--Dan and Snowbird hoping to keep warm by the exercise of +propelling the sled. Except for the dull ax and the half-empty pistol, +their only equipment was a single charred pot for melting snow that Dan +had recovered from the ashes of the kitchen. + +The three had worked almost in silence. Words didn't help now. They +wasted no sorely-needed breath. But they did have one minute of talk +when they got to the top of the little ridge that had overlooked the +house. + +"We'll travel mostly at night," Dan told them. "We can see in the snow, +and by taking our rest in the daytime, when the sun is bright and warm, +we can save our strength. We won't have to keep such big fires then--and +at night our exertion will keep us as warm as we can hope for. Getting +up all night to cut green wood with this dull ax in the snow would break +us to pieces very soon, for remember that we haven't any food. I know +how to build a fire even in the snow--especially if I can find the dead, +dry heart of a rotten log--but it isn't any fun to keep it going with +green wood. We don't want to have to spend any more of our strength +stripping off wet bark and hacking at saplings than we can help; and +that means we'd better do our resting in the heat of the day. After all, +it's a fight against starvation more than anything else." + +"Just think," the girl told them, reproaching herself, "if I'd just shot +straight at that wolf to-day, we could have gone back and got his body. +It might have carried us through." + +Neither of the others as much as looked surprised at these amazing +regrets over the lost, unsavory flesh of a wolf. They were up against +realities, and they didn't mince words. Dan smiled at her gently, and +his great shoulder leaned against the traces. + +They moved through a dead world. The ever-present manifestations of wild +life that had been such a delight to Dan in the summer and fall were +quite lacking now. The snow was trackless. Once they thought they saw a +snowshoe rabbit, a strange shadow on the snow, but he was too far away +for Snowbird to risk a pistol shot. The pound or two of flesh would be +sorely needed before the journey was over, but the pistol cartridges +might be needed still more. She didn't let her mind rest on certain +possibilities wherein they might be needed. Such thoughts stole the +courage from the spirit, and courage was essential beyond all things +else to bring them through. + +Once a flock of wild geese, stragglers from the main army of waterfowl, +passed overhead on their southern migration. They were many months too +late. They called down their eerie cries,--that song that they had +learned from the noise the wind makes, blowing over the bleak marshes. +It wailed down to them a long time after the flock was hidden by the +distant tree tops, and seemed to shiver, with curious echoes, among the +pines. Trudging on, they listened to its last note. And possibly they +understood the cry as never before. It was one of the untamed, primitive +voices of the wilderness, and they could realize something of its +sadness, its infinite yearning and complaint. They knew the wilderness +now, just as the geese themselves did. They knew its cold, its hunger, +its remorselessness, and beyond all, the fear that was bright eyes in +the darkness. No man could have crossed that first twenty miles with +them and remained a tenderfoot. The wild was sending home its lessons, +one after another, until the spirit broke beneath them. It was showing +its teeth. It was reminding them, very clearly, that in spite of houses +built on the ridges and cattle pens and rifles and all the tools and +aids of civilization, it was still unconquered. + +Mostly the forest was heavily laden with silence. And silence, in this +case, didn't seem to be merely an absence of sound. It seemed like a +substance in itself, something that lay over the snow, in which all +sound was immediately smothered and extinguished. They heard their own +footfalls in the snow and the crunch of the sled. But the sound only +went a little way. Once in a long time distant trees cracked in the +frost; and they all stood still a moment, trying to fight down the vain +hope that this might be some hunter from the valleys who would come to +their aid. A few times they heard the snow sliding, with the dull sound +of rolling window shade, down from the overburdened limbs. The trees +were inert with their load of snow. + +As the dawn came out, they all stood still and listened to the wolf +pack, singing on the ridge somewhere behind them. It was a large pack. +They couldn't make out individual voices,--neither the more shrill cry +of the females, the yapping of the cubs, or the low, clear +G-below-middle-C note of the males. + +"If they should cross our tracks--" Lennox suggested. + +"No use worrying about that now--not until we come to it," Dan told him. + +The morning broke, the sun rose bright in a clear sky. But still they +trudged on. In spite of the fact that the sled was heavy and broke +through the snow crust as they tugged at it, they had made good time +since their departure. But now every step was a pronounced effort. It +was the dreadful beginning of fatigue that only food and warmth and rest +could rectify. + +"We'll rest now," Dan told them at ten o'clock. "The sun is warm enough +so that we won't need much of a fire. And we'll try to get five hours' +sleep." + +"Too long, if we're going to make it out," Lennox objected. + +"That leaves a work-day of nineteen hours," Dan persisted. "Not any too +little. Five hours it will be." + +He found where the snow had drifted against a great, dead log, leaving +the white covering only a foot in depth on the lee side. He began to +scrape the snow away, then hacked at the log with his ax until he had +procured a piece of comparatively dry wood from its center. They all +stood breathless while he lighted the little pile of kindling and heaped +it with green wood,--the only wood procurable. But it didn't burn +freely. It smoked fitfully, threatening to die out, and emitting very +little heat. + +But they didn't particularly care. The sun was warm above, as always in +the mountain winters of Southern Oregon. Snowbird and Dan cleared spaces +beside the fire and slept. Lennox, who had rested on the journey, lay on +his sled and with his uninjured arm tried to hack enough wood from the +saplings that Dan had cut to keep the fire burning. + +At three they got up, still tired and aching in their bones from +exposure. Twenty-four hours had passed since they had tasted food, and +their unreplenished systems complained. There is no better engine in the +wide world than the human body. It will stand more neglect and abuse +than the finest steel motors ever made by the hands of European +craftsmen. A man may fast many days if he lies quietly in one place and +keeps warm. But fasting is a deadly proposition while pulling sledges +over the snow. + +Dan was less hopeful now. His face told what his words did not. The +lines cleft deeper about his lips and eyes; and Snowbird's heart ached +when he tried to encourage her with a smile. It was a wan, strange smile +that couldn't quite hide the first sickness of despair. + +The shadows quickly lengthened--simply leaping over the snow from the +fast-falling sun. Soon it dropped down behind the ridge; and the gray of +twilight began to deepen among the more distant trees. It blurred the +outline and dulled the sight. With the twilight came the cold, first +crisp, then bitter and penetrating to the vitals. The twilight deepened, +the snow turned gray, and then, in a vague way, the journey began to +partake of a quality of unreality. It was not that the cold and the +snow and their hunger were not entirely real, or that the wilderness +was no longer naked to their eyes. It was just that their whole effort +seemed like some dreadful, emburdened journey in a dream,--a stumbling +advance under difficulties too many and real to be true. + +The first sign was the far-off cry of the wolf pack. It was very faint, +simply a stir in the ear drums, yet it was entirely clear. That clear, +cold mountain air was a perfect telephone system, conveying a message +distinctly, no matter how faintly. There were no tall buildings or +cities to disturb the ether waves. And all three of them knew at the +same instant it was not exactly the cry they had heard before. + +They couldn't have told just why, even if they had wished to talk about +it. In some dim way, it had lost the strange quality of despair that it +had held before. It was as if the pack were running with renewed life, +that each wolf was calling to another with a dreadful sort of +exultation. It was an excited cry too,--not the long, sad song they had +learned to listen for. It sounded immediately behind them. + +They couldn't help but listen. No human ears could have shut out the +sound. But none of them pretended that they had heard. And this was the +worst sign of all. Each one of the three was hoping against hope in his +very heart; and at the same time, hoping that the others did not +understand. + +For a long time, as the darkness deepened about them, the forests were +still. Perhaps, Dan thought, he had been mistaken after all. His +shoulders straightened. Then the chorus blared again. + +The man looked back at the girl, smiling into her eyes. Lennox lay as if +asleep, the lines of his dark face curiously pronounced. And the girl, +because she was of the mountains, body and soul, answered Dan's smile. +Then they knew that all of them knew the truth. Not even an +inexperienced ear could have any delusions about the pack song now. It +was that oldest of wilderness songs, the hunting-cry,--that frenzied +song of blood-lust that the wolf pack utters when it is running on the +trail of game. It had found the track of living flesh at last. + +"There's no use stopping, or trying to climb a tree," Dan told them +simply. "In the first place, Lennox can't do it. In the second, we've +got to take a chance--for cold and hunger can get up a tree where the +wolf pack can't." + +He spoke wholly without emotion. Once more he tightened the traces of +the sled. + +"I've heard that sometimes the pack will chase a man for days without +attacking," Lennox told them. "It all depends on how long they've gone +without food. Keep on and try to forget 'em. Maybe we can keep 'em +bluffed." + +But as the hours passed, it became increasingly difficult to forget the +wolf pack. It was only a matter of turning the head and peering for an +instant into the shadows to catch a glimpse of one of the creatures. +Their forms, when they emerged from the shadows of the tree trunks, were +entirely visible against the snow. They no longer yapped and howled. +They acted very intent and stealthy. They had spread out in a great +wing, slipping from shadow and shadow, and what were their mental +processes no human being may even guess. It was a new game; and they +seemed to be seeking the best means of attack. Their usual fear of men, +always their first emotion, had given way wholly to a hunting cunning: +an effort to procure their game without too great risk of their own +lives. In the desperation of their hunger they could not remember such +things as the fear of men. They spread out farther, and at last Dan +looked up to find one of the gray beasts waiting, like a shadow himself, +in the shadow of a tree not one hundred feet from the sled. Snowbird +whipped out her pistol. + +"Don't dare!" Dan's voice cracked out to her. He didn't speak loudly; +yet the words came so sharp and commanding, so like pistol fire itself, +that they penetrated into her consciousness and choked back the nervous +reflexes that in an instant might have lost them one of their three +precious shells. She caught herself with a sob. Dan shouted at the wolf, +and it melted into the shadows. + +"You won't do it again, Snowbird?" he asked her very humbly. But his +meaning was clear. He was not as skilled with a pistol as she; but if +her nerves were breaking, the gun must be taken from her hands. The +three shells must be saved to the moment of utmost need. + +"No," she told him, looking straight into his eyes. "I won't do it +again." + +He believed her. He knew that she spoke the truth. He met her eyes with +a half smile. Then, wholly without warning, Fate played its last trump. + +Again the wilderness reminded them of its might, and their brave spirits +were almost broken by the utter remorselessness of the blow. The girl +went on her face with a crack of wood. Her snowshoe had been cracked by +her fall of the day before, when running to the fire, and whether she +struck some other obstruction in the snow, or whether the cracked wood +had simply given way under her weight, mattered not even enough for them +to investigate. As in all great disasters, only the result remained. The +result in this case was that her snowshoe, without which she could not +walk at all in the snow, was irreparably broken. + + + + +VI + + +"Fate has stacked the cards against us," Lennox told them, after the +first moment's horror from the broken snowshoe. + +But no one answered him. The girl, white-faced, kept her wide eyes on +Dan. He seemed to be peering into the shadows beside the trail, as if he +were watching for the gray forms that now and then glided from tree to +tree. In reality, he was not looking for wolves. He was gazing down into +his own soul, measuring his own spirit for the trial that lay before +him. + +The girl, unable to step with the broken snowshoe, rested her weight on +one foot and hobbled like a bird with broken wings across to him. No +sight of all this terrible journey had been more dreadful in her +father's eyes than this. It seemed to split open the strong heart of the +man. She touched her hand to his arm. + +"I'm sorry, Dan," she told him. "You tried so hard--" + +Just one little sound broke from his throat--a strange, deep gasp that +could not be suppressed. Then he caught her hand in his and kissed +it,--again and again. "Do you think I care about that?" he asked her. "I +only wish I could have done more--and what I have done doesn't count. +Just as in my fight with Cranston, nothing counts because I didn't win. +It's just fate, Snowbird. It's no one's fault, but maybe, in this world, +nothing is ever any one's fault." For in the twilight of those winter +woods, in the shadow of death itself, perhaps he was catching +glimmerings of eternal truths that are hidden from all but the most +far-seeing eyes. + +"And this is the end?" she asked him. She spoke very bravely. + +"No!" His hand tightened on hers. "No, so long as an ounce of strength +remains. To fight--never to give up--may God give me spirit for it till +I die." + +And this was no idle prayer. His eyes raised to the starry sky as he +spoke. + +"But, son," Lennox asked him rather quietly, "what can you do? The +wolves aren't going to wait a great deal longer, and we can't go on." + +"There's one thing more--one more trial to make," Dan answered. "I +thought about it at first, but it was too long a chance to try if there +was any other way. And I suppose you thought of it too." + +"Overtaking Cranston?" + +"Of course. And it sounds like a crazy dream. But listen, both of you. +If we have got to die, up here in the snow--and it looks like we +had--what is the thing you want done worst before we go?" + +Lennox's hands clasped, and he leaned forward on the sled. "Pay +Cranston!" he said. + +"Yes!" Dan's voice rang. "Cranston's never going to be paid unless we do +it. There will be no signs of incendiarism at the house, and no proofs. +They'll find our bodies in the snow, and we'll just be a mystery, with +no one made to pay. The evidence in my pocket will be taken by Cranston, +sometime this winter. If I don't make him pay, he never will pay. And +that's one reason why I'm going to try to carry out this plan I've got. + +"The second reason is that it's the one hope we have left. I take it +that none of us are deceived on that point. And no man can die +tamely--if he is a man--while there's a chance. I mean a young man, like +me,--not one who is old and tired. It sounds perfectly silly to talk +about finding Cranston's winter quarters, and then, with my bare hands, +conquering him, taking his food and his blankets and his snowshoes and +his rifle to fight away these wolves, and bringing 'em back here." + +"You wouldn't be barehanded," the girl reminded him. "You could have the +pistol." + +He didn't even seem to hear her. "I've been thinking about it. It's a +long, long chance--much worse than the chance we had of getting out by +straight walking. I think we could have made it, if the wolves had kept +off and the snowshoe hadn't broken. It would have nearly killed us, but +I believe we could have got out. That's why I didn't try this other way +first. A man with his bare hands hasn't much of a chance against another +with a rifle, and I don't want you to be too hopeful. And of course, the +hardest problem is finding his camp. + +"But I do feel sure of one thing: that he is back to his old trapping +line on the North Fork--somewhere south of here--and his camp is +somewhere on the river. I think he would have gone there so that he +could cut off any attempt I might make to get through with those +letters. My plan is to start back at an angle that will carry me between +the North Fork and our old house. Somewhere in there I'll find his +tracks, the tracks he made when he first came over to burn up the house. +I suppose he was careful to mix 'em up after once he arrived there, but +the first part of the way he likely walked straight toward the house +from his camp. Somewhere, if I go that way, I'll cross his +trail--within ten miles at least. Then I'll back-track him to his camp." + +"And never come back!" the girl cried. + +"Maybe not. But at least everything that can be done will be done. +Nothing will be left. No regrets. We will have made the last trial. I'm +not going to waste any time, Snowbird. The sooner we get your fire built +the better." + +"Father and I are to stay here--?" + +"What else can you do?" He went back to his traces and drew the sled one +hundred yards farther. He didn't seem to see the gaunt wolf that backed +off into the shadows as he approached. He refused to notice that the +pack seemed to be steadily growing bolder. Human hunters usually had +guns that could blast and destroy from a distance; but even an animal +intelligence could perceive that these three seemed to be without this +means of inflicting death. A wolf is ever so much more intelligent than +a crow,--yet a crow shows little fear of an unarmed man and is wholly +unapproachable by a boy with a gun. The ugly truth was simply that in +their increasing madness and excitement and hunger, they were becoming +less and less fearful of these three strange humans with the sled. + +It was not a good place for a camp. They worked a long time before they +cleared a little patch of ground of its snow mantle. Dan cut a number of +saplings--laboriously with his ax--and built a fire with the +comparatively dry core of a dead tree. True, it was feeble and +flickering, but as good as could be hoped for, considering the +difficulties under which he worked. The dead logs under the snow were +soaked with water from the rains and the thaws. The green wood that he +cut smoked without blazing. + +"No more time to be lost," Dan told Snowbird. "It lies in your hands to +keep the fire burning. And don't leave the circle of the firelight +without that pistol in your hand." + +"You don't mean," she asked, unbelieving, "that you are going to go out +there to fight Cranston--unarmed?" + +"Of course, Snowbird. You must keep the pistol." + +"But it means death; that's all it means. What chance would you have +against a man with a rifle? And as soon as you get away from this fire, +the wolves will tear you to pieces." + +"And what would you and your father do, if I took it? You can't get him +into a tree. You can't build a big enough fire to frighten them. Please +don't even talk about this matter, Snowbird. My mind's made up. I think +the pack will stay here. They usually--God knows how--know who is +helpless and who isn't. Maybe with the gun, you will be able to save +your lives." + +"What's the chance of that?" + +"You might--with one cartridge--kill one of the devils; and the +others--but you know how they devour their own dead. That might break +their famine enough so that they'd hold off until I can get back. That's +the prize I'm playing for." + +"And what if you don't get back?" + +He took her hand in one of his, and with the other he caressed, for a +single moment, the lovely flesh of her throat. The love he had for her +spoke from his eyes,--such speech as no human vision could possibly +mistake. Both of them were tingling and breathless with a great, sweet +wonder. + +"Never let those fangs tear that softness, while you live," he told her +gently. "Never let that brave old man on the sled go to his death with +the pack tearing at him. Cheat 'em, Snowbird! Beat 'em the last minute, +if no other way remains! Show 'em who's boss, after all--of all this +forest." + +"You mean--?" Her eyes widened. + +"I mean that you must only spend one of those three shells in fighting +off the wolves. Save that till the moment you need it most. The other +two must be saved--for something else." + +She nodded, shuddering an instant at a menacing shadow that moved within +sixty feet of the fire. The firelight half-blinded them, dim as it was, +and they couldn't see into the darkness as well as they had before. +Except for strange, blue-yellow lights, close together and two and two +about the fire, they might have thought that the pack was gone. + +"Then good-by, Dan!" she told him. And she stretched up her arms. "The +thing I said--that day on the hillside--doesn't hold any more." + +His own arms encircled her, but he made no effort to claim her lips. +Lennox watched them quietly; in this moment of crisis not even +pretending to look away. Dan shook his head to her entreating eyes. "It +isn't just a kiss, darling," he told her soberly. "It goes deeper than +that. It's a symbol. It was your word, too, and mine; and words can't be +broken, things being as they are. Can't I make you understand?" + +She nodded. His eyes burned. Perhaps she didn't understand, as far as +actual functioning of the brain was concerned. But she reached up to +him, as women--knowing life in the concrete rather than the +abstract--have always reached up to men; and she dimly caught the gleam +of some eternal principle and right behind his words. This strong man of +the mountains had given his word, had been witness to her own promise to +him and to herself, and a law that goes down to the roots of life +prevented him from claiming the kiss. + +Many times, since the world was new, comfort--happiness--life itself +have been contingent on the breaking of a law. Yet in spite of what +seemed common sense, even though no punishment would forthcome if it +were broken, the law has been kept. It was this way now. It wouldn't +have been just a kiss such as boys and girls have always had in the +moonlight. It meant the symbolic renunciation of the debt that Dan owed +Cranston,--a debt that in his mind might possibly go unpaid, but which +no weight of circumstance could make him renounce. + +His longing for her lips pulled at the roots of him. But by the laws of +his being he couldn't claim them until the debt incurred on the +hillside, months ago, had been paid; to take them now meant to dull the +fine edge of his resolve to carry the issue through to the end, to dim +the star that led him, to weaken him, by bending now, for the test to +come. He didn't know why. It had its font in the deep wells of the +spirit. Common sense can't reveal how the holy man keeps strong the +spirit by denying the flesh. It goes too deep for that. Dan kept to his +consecration. + +He did, however, kiss her hands, and he kissed the tears out of her +eyes. Then he turned into the darkness and broke through the ring of the +wolves. + + + + +VII + + +Dan Failing was never more thankful for his unerring sense of direction. +He struck off at a forty-five-degree angle between their late course and +a direct road to the river, and he kept it as if by a surveyor's line. +All the old devices of the wilderness--the ridge on ridge that looked +just alike, inclines that to the casual eye looked like downward slopes, +streams that vanished beneath the snow, and the snow-mist blowing across +the face of the landmarks--could not avail against him. + +A half dozen of the wolves followed him at first. But perhaps their +fierce eyes marked his long stride and his powerful body, and decided +that their better chance was with the helpless man and the girl beside +the flickering fire. They turned back, one by one. Dan kept straight on +and in two hours crossed Cranston's trail. + +It was perfectly plain in the moonlit snow. He began to back-track. He +headed down a long slope and in an hour more struck the North Fork. He +didn't doubt but that he would find Cranston in his camp, if he found +the camp at all. The man had certainly returned to it immediately after +setting fire to the buildings, if for no other reason than for food. It +isn't well to be abroad on the wintry mountains without a supply of +food; and Cranston would certainly know this fact. + +Dan didn't know when a rifle bullet from some camp in the thickets would +put an abrupt end to his advance. The brush grew high by the river, the +elevation was considerably lower, and there might be one hundred camps +out of the sight of the casual wayfarer. If Cranston should see him, +mushing across the moonlit snow, it would give him the most savage joy +to open fire upon him with his rifle. + +Dan's advance became more cautious. He was in a notable trapping region, +and he might encounter Cranston's camp at any moment. His keen eyes +searched the thickets, and particularly they watched the sky line for a +faint glare that might mean a camp fire. He tried to walk silently. It +wasn't an easy thing to do with awkward snowshoes; but the river drowned +the little noise that he made. He tried to take advantage of the shelter +of the thickets and the trees. Then, at the base of a little ridge, he +came to a sudden halt. + +He had estimated just right. Not two hundred yards distant, a camp fire +flickered and glowed in the shelter of a great log. He saw it, by the +most astounding good fortune, through a little rift in the trees. Ten +feet on either side, and it was obscured. + +He lost no time. He did not know when the wolves about Snowbird's camp +would lose the last of their cowardice. Yet he knew he must keep a tight +grip on his self-control and not let the necessity of haste cost him his +victory. He crept forward, step by step, placing his snowshoes with +consummate care. When he was one hundred yards distant he saw that +Cranston's camp was situated beside a little stream that flowed into the +river and that--like the mountaineer he was--he had built a large +lean-to reinforced with snowbanks. The fire burned at its opening. +Cranston was not in sight; either he was absent from camp or asleep in +his lean-to. The latter seemed the more likely. + +Dan made a wide detour, coming in about thirty yards behind the +construction. Still he moved with incredible caution. Never in his life +had he possessed a greater mastery over his own nerves. His heart leaped +somewhat fast in his breast; but this was the only wasted motion. It +isn't easy to advance through such thickets without ever a misstep, +without the rustle of a branch or the crack of a twig. Certain of the +wild creatures find it easy; but men have forgotten how in too many +centuries of cities and farms. It is hardly a human quality; and a +spectator would have found a rather ghastly fascination in watching the +lithe motions, the passionless face, the hands that didn't shake at all. +But there were no spectators--unless the little band of wolves, +stragglers from the pack that had gathered on the hills behind--watched +with lighted eyes. + +Dan went down at full length upon the snow and softly removed his +snowshoes. They would be only an impediment in the close work that was +sure to follow. He slid along the snow crust, clear to the mouth of the +lean-to. + +The moonlight poured through and showed the interior with rather +remarkable plainness. Cranston was sprawled, half-sitting, half-lying on +a tree-bough pallet near the rear wall. There was not the slightest +doubt of the man's wakefulness. Dan heard him stir, and once--as if at +the memory of his deed of the day before--he cursed in a savage whisper. +Although he was facing the opening of the lean-to, he was wholly unaware +of Dan's presence. The latter had thrust his head at the side of the +opening, and it was in shadow. Cranston seemed to be watching the +great, white snow fields that lay in front, and for a moment Dan was at +loss to explain this seeming vigil. Then he understood. The white field +before him was part of the long ridge that the three of them would pass +on their way to the valleys. Cranston had evidently anticipated that the +girl and the man would attempt to march out--even if he hadn't guessed +they would try to take the helpless Lennox with them--and he wished to +be prepared for emergencies. There might be sport to have with Dan, +unarmed as he was. And his eyes were full of strange conjectures in +regard to Snowbird. Both would be exhausted now and helpless-- + +Dan's eyes encompassed the room: the piles of provisions heaped against +the wall, the snowshoes beside the pallet, but most of all he wished to +locate Cranston's rifle. Success or failure hung on that. He couldn't +find it at first. Then he saw the glitter of its barrel in the +moonlight,--leaning against a grub-box possibly six feet from Cranston +and ten from himself. + +His heart leaped. The best he had hoped for--for the sake of Snowbird, +not himself--was that he would be nearer to the gun than Cranston and +would be able to seize it first. But conditions could be greatly worse +than they were. If Cranston had actually had the weapon in his hands, +the odds of battle would have been frightfully against Dan. It takes a +certain length of time to seize, swing, and aim a rifle; and Dan felt +that while he would be unable to reach it himself, Cranston could not +procure it either, without giving Dan an opportunity to leap upon him. +In all his dreams, through the months of preparation, he had pictured it +thus. It was the test at last. + +The gun might be loaded, and still--in these days of safety +devices--unready to fire; and the loss of a fraction of a second might +enable Cranston to reach his knife. Thus Dan felt justified in ignoring +the gun altogether and trusting--as he had most desired--to a battle of +hands. And he wanted both hands free when he made his attack. + +If Dan had been erect upon his feet, his course would have been an +immediate leap on the shoulders of his adversary, running the risk of +Cranston reaching his hunting knife in time. But the second that he +would require to get to his feet would entirely offset this advantage. +Cranston could spring up too. So he did the next most disarming thing. + +He sprang up and strode into the lean-to. + +"Good evening, Cranston," he said pleasantly. + +Cranston was also upon his feet the same instant. His instincts were +entirely true. He knew if he leaped for his rifle, Dan would be upon his +back in an instant, and he would have no chance to use it. His training, +also, had been that of the hills, and his reflexes flung him erect upon +his feet at the same instant that he saw the leap of his enemy's shadow. +They brought up face to face. The rifle was now out of the running, as +they were at about equal distances from it, and neither would have time +to swing or aim it. + +Dan's sudden appearance had been so utterly unlooked-for, that for a +moment Cranston could find no answer. His eyes moved to the rifle, then +to his belt where hung his hunting knife, that still lay on the pallet. +"Good evening, Failing," he replied, trying his hardest to fall into +that strange spirit of nonchalance with which brave men have so often +met their adversaries, and which Dan had now. "I'm surprised to see you +here. What do you want?" + +Dan's voice when he replied was no more warm than the snow banks that +reinforced the lean-to. "I want your rifle--also your snowshoes and your +supplies of food. And I think I'll take your blankets, too." + +"And I suppose you mean to fight for them?" Cranston asked. His lips +drew up in a smile, but there was no smile in the tone of his words. + +"You're right," Dan told him, and he stepped nearer. "Not only for that, +Cranston. We're face to face at last--hands to hands. I've got a knife +in my pocket, but I'm not even going to bring it out. It's hands to +hands--you and I--until everything's square between us." + +"Perhaps you've forgotten that day on the ridge?" Cranston asked. "You +haven't any woman to save you this time." + +"I remember the day, and that's part of the debt. The thing you did +yesterday is part of it too. It's all to be settled at last, Cranston, +and I don't believe I could spare you if you went to your knees before +me. You've got a clearing out by the fire--big as a prize ring. We'll go +out there--side by side. And hands to hands we'll settle all these debts +we have between us--with no rules of fighting and no mercy in the end!" + +They measured each other with their eyes. Once more Cranston's gaze +stole to his rifle, but lunging out, Dan kicked it three feet farther +into the shadows of the lean-to. Dan saw the dark face drawn with +passion, the hands clenching, the shoulder muscles growing into hard +knots. And Cranston looked and knew that merciless vengeance--that +age-old sin and Christless creed by which he lived--had followed him +down and was clutching him at last. + +He saw it in the position of the stalwart form before him, the clear +level eyes that the moonlight made bright as steel, the hard lines, the +slim, powerful hands. He could read it in the tones of the voice,--tones +that he himself could not imitate or pretend. The hour had come for the +settling of old debts. + +He tried to curse his adversary as a weakling and a degenerate, but the +obscene words he sought for would not come to his lips. Here was his +fate, and because the darkness always fades before the light, and the +courage of wickedness always breaks before the courage of righteousness, +Cranston was afraid to look it in the face. The fear of defeat, of +death, of Heaven knows what remorselessness with which this grave giant +would administer justice was upon him, and his heart seemed to freeze in +his breast. Cravenly he leaped for his knife on the blankets below him. + +Dan was upon him before he ever reached it. He sprang as a cougar +springs, incredibly fast and with shattering power. Both went down, and +for a long time they writhed and struggled in each other's arms. The +pine boughs rustled strangely. + +The dark, gaunt hand reached in vain for the knife. Some resistless +power seemed to be holding his wrist and was bending its bone as an +Indian bends a bow. Pain lashed through him.--And then this dark-hearted +man, who had never known the meaning of mercy, opened his lips to scream +that this terrible enemy be merciful to him. + +But the words wouldn't come. A ghastly weight had come at his throat, +and his tortured lungs sobbed for breath. Then, for a long time, there +was a curious pounding, lashing sound in the evergreen boughs. It seemed +merciless and endless. + +But Dan got up at last, in a strange, heavy silence, and swiftly went to +work. He took the rifle and filled it with cartridges from Cranston's +belt. Then he put the remaining two boxes of shells into his shirt +pocket. The supplies of food--the sack of nutritious jerked venison like +dried bark, the little package of cheese, the boxes of hardtack and one +of the small sacks of prepared flour--he tied, with a single kettle, +into his heavy blankets and flung them with the rifle upon his back. +Finally he took the pair of snowshoes from the floor. He worked coldly, +swiftly, all the time munching at a piece of jerked venison. When he +had finished he walked to the door of the lean-to. + +It seemed to Dan that Cranston whispered faintly, from his +unconsciousness, as he passed; but the victor did not turn to look. The +snowshoes crunched away into the darkness. On the hill behind a +half-dozen wolves--stragglers from the pack--frisked and leaped about in +a curious way. A strange smell had reached them on the wind, and when +the loud, fearful steps were out of hearing, it might pay them to creep +down, one by one, and investigate its cause. + + + + +VIII + + +The gray circle about the fire was growing impatient. Snowbird waited to +the last instant before she admitted this fact. But it is possible only +so long to deny the truth of a thing that all the senses verify, and +that moment for her was past. + +At first the wolves had lingered in the deepest shadow and were only +visible in profile against the gray snow. But as the night wore on, they +became increasingly careless. They crept up to the very edge of the +little circle of firelight; and when a high-leaping flame threw a gleam +over them, they didn't shrink. She had only to look up to see that +age-old circle of fire--bright dots, two and two--at every side. + +It is an instinct in the hunting creatures to remain silent before the +attack. The triumph cries come afterward. But they seemed no longer +anxious about this, either. Sometimes she would hear their footfall as +they leaped in the snow, and what excitement stirred them she didn't +dare to think. Quite often one of them would snarl softly,--a strange +sound in the darkness. + +She noticed that when she went to her hands and knees, laboriously to +cut a piece of the drier wood from the rain-soaked, rotted snag that was +her principal supply of fuel, every wolf would leap forward, only to +draw back when she stood straight again. At such times she saw them +perfectly plainly,--their gaunt bodies, their eyes lighted with the +insanity of famine, their ivory fangs that glistened in the firelight. +She worked desperately to keep the fire burning bright. She dared not +neglect it for a moment. Except for the single pistol ball that she +could afford to expend on the wolves--of the three she had--the fire was +her last defense. + +But it was a losing fight. The rain-soaked wood smoked without flame, +the comparatively dry core with which Dan had started the fire had +burned down, and the green wood, hacked with such heart-breaking +difficulty from the saplings that Dan had cut, needed the most tireless +attention to burn at all. + +When Dan had gone, these little trees were well within the circle of the +wolves. Unfortunately, the circle had drawn in past them. Nevertheless, +now that the last of the drier dead wood was consumed, she shouldered +her ax and walked straight toward the gray, crouching bodies in the +snow. For a tragic second she thought that the nearest of them was going +to stand its ground. But almost when she was in striking range, and its +body was sinking to the snow in preparation for a leap, it skulked back +into the shadow. Exhausted as she was, it seemed to her that she chopped +endlessly to cut away one little length. The ax blade was dull, the +handle awkward in her hand, she could scarcely stand on her broken +snowshoes, and worse, the ice crust broke beneath her blows, burying the +sapling in the snow. She noticed that every time she bent to strike a +blow, the circle would plunge a step nearer her, withdrawing as she +straightened again. + +Books of woodcraft often describe with what ease a fire may be built and +maintained in wet snow. It works fairly well in theory, but it is a +heart-breaking task in practice. Under such difficulties as she worked, +it became one of those dreadful undertakings that partake of a nightmare +quality,--the walking of a treadmill or the sweeping of waves from the +shore. + +When she secured the first length, her fire was almost extinguished. It +threw a fault cloud of smoke into the air, but the flame was almost +gone. The darkness dropped about her, and the wolves came stealing over +the snow. She worked furiously, with the strength of desperation, and +little by little she won back a tiny flame. + +Her nervous vitality was flowing from her in a frightful stream. Too +long she had toiled without food in the constant presence of danger, and +she was very near indeed to utter exhaustion. But at the same time she +knew she must not faint. That was one thing she could not do,--to fall +unconscious before the last of her three cartridges was expended in the +right way. + +Again she went forth to the sapling, and this time it seemed to her that +if she simply tossed the ax through the air, she could fell one of the +gray crowd. But when she stooped to pick it up--She didn't finish the +thought. She turned to coax the fire. And then she leaned sobbing over +the sled. + +"What's the use?" she cried. "He won't come back. What's the use of +fighting any more?" + +"There's always use of fighting," her father told her. He seemed to +speak with difficulty, and his face looked strange and white. The cold +and the exposure were having their effect on his weakened system, and +unconsciousness was a near shadow indeed. "But, dearest,--if I could +only make you do what I want you to--" + +"What?" + +"You're able to climb a tree, and if you'd take these coats, you +wouldn't freeze by morning. If you'd only have the strength--" + +"And see you torn to pieces!" + +"I'm old, dear--and very tired--and I'd crawl away into the shadows, +where you couldn't see. There's no use mincing words, Snowbird. You're a +brave girl--always have been since a little thing, as God is my +Judge--and you know we must face the truth. Better one of us die than +both. And I promise--I'll never feel their fangs. And I won't take your +pistol with me either." + +Her thought flashed to the clasp hunting knife that he carried in his +pocket. But her eyes lighted, and she bent and kissed him. And the +wolves leaped forward even at this. + +"We'll stay it out," she told him. "We'll fight it to the last--just as +Dan would want us to do. Besides--it would only mean the same fate for +me, in a little while. I couldn't cling up there forever--and Dan won't +come back." + + * * * * * + +She was wholly unable to gain on the fire. Only by dint of the most +heart-breaking toil was she able to secure any dry fuel for it at all. +Every length of wood she cut had to be scraped of bark, and half the +time the fire was only a sickly column of white smoke. It became +increasingly difficult to swing the ax. The trail was almost at its end. + +The after-midnight hours drew one by one across the face of the +wilderness, and she thought that the deepening cold presaged dawn. Her +fingers were numb. Her nerve control was breaking; she could no longer +drive a straight blow with the ax. The number of the wolves seemed to be +increasing: every way she looked she could see them leaping. Or was this +just hysteria? Surely the battle could go on but a few moments more. The +wolves themselves, sensing dawn, were losing the last of their +cowardice. + +Once more she went to one of the saplings, but she stumbled and almost +went to her face at the first blow. It was the instant that her gray +watchers had been waiting for. The wolf that stood nearest leaped--a +gray streak out of the shadow--and every wolf in the pack shot forward +with a yell. It was a short, expectant cry; but it chopped off short. +For with a half-sob, and seemingly without mental process, she aimed her +pistol and fired. + +A fast-leaping wolf is one of the most difficult pistol targets that can +be imagined. It bordered on the miraculous that she did not miss him +altogether. Her nerves were torn, their control over her muscles largely +gone. Yet the bullet coursed down through the lungs, inflicting a mortal +wound. + +The wolf had leaped for her throat; but he fell short. She staggered +from a blow, and she heard a curious sound in the region of her hip. But +she didn't know that the fangs had gone home in her soft flesh. The wolf +rolled on the ground; and if her pistol had possessed the shocking power +of a rifle, he would have never got up again. As it was, he shrieked +once, then sped off in the darkness to die. Five or six of the nearest +wolves, catching the smell of his blood, bayed and sped after him. + +But the remainder of the great pack--fully fifteen of the gray, gaunt +creatures--came stealing across the snow toward her. White fangs had +gone home; and a new madness was in the air. + + * * * * * + +Straining into the silence, a perfectly straight line between Cranston's +camp and Snowbird's, Dan Failing came mushing across the snow. His sense +of direction had never been obliged to stand such a test as this before. +Snowbird's fire was a single dot on a vast plateau; yet he had gone +straight toward it. + +He was risking everything for the sake of speed. He gave no heed to the +fallen timber that might have torn the web of his snowshoes to shreds. +Because he shut out all thought of it, he had no feeling of fatigue. The +fight with Cranston had been a frightful strain on muscle and nerve; but +he scarcely remembered it now. His whole purpose was to return to +Snowbird before the wolves lost the last of their cowardice. + +The jerked venison that he had munched had brought him back much of his +strength. He was wholly unconscious of his heavy pack. Never did he +glide so swiftly, so softly, with such unerring step; and it was nothing +more or less than a perfect expression of the ironclad control that his +steel nerves had over his muscles. + +Then, through the silence, he heard the shout of the pack as the wolf +had leaped at Snowbird. He knew what it meant. The wolves were attacking +then, and a great flood of black, hating bitterness poured over him at +the thought he had been too late. It had all been in vain, and before +the thought could fully go home, he heard the dim, far-off crack of a +pistol. + +Was that the first of the three shots, the one she might expend on the +wolves, or had the first two already been spent and was she taking the +last gateway of escape? Perhaps even now Lennox was lying still on the +sled, and she was standing before the ruin of her fire, praying that her +soul might have wings. He shouted with all the power of his lungs across +the snow. + +But Snowbird only heard the soft glide of the wolves in the snow. The +wind was blowing toward Dan; and while he had heard the loud chorus of +the pack, one of the most far-carrying cries, and the penetrating crack +of a pistol, she couldn't hear his answering shout. In fact, the +wilderness seemed preternaturally still. All was breathless, heavy with +suspense, and she stood, just as Dan had thought, between the ruin of +her fire and the sled, and she looked with straight eyes to the oncoming +wolves. + +"Hurry, Snowbird," Lennox was whispering. "Give me the pistol--for that +last work. We have only a moment more." + +He looked very calm and brave, half-raised as he was on the sled, and +perhaps a half-smile lingered at his bearded lips. And the bravest thing +of all was that to spare her, he was willing to take the little weapon +from her hand to use it in its last service. She tried to smile at him, +then crept over to his side. + +The strain was over. They knew what they had to face. She put the +pistol in his steady hand. + +His hand lowered to his side and he sat waiting. The moments passed. The +wolves seemed to be waiting too, for the last flickering tongue of the +little fire to die away. The last of her fuel was ignited and burning +out; they were crouched and ready to spring if she should venture forth +after more. The darkness closed down deeper, and at last only a column +of smoke remained. + +It was nothing to be afraid of. The great, gray leader of the pack, a +wolf that weighed nearly one hundred pounds, began slowly and +deliberately to set his muscles for the spring. It was the same as when +the great bull elk comes to bay at the base of the cliffs: usually some +one wolf, often the great pack leader, wishing to remind his followers +of his might, or else some full-grown male proud in his strength, will +attack alone. Because this was the noblest game that the pack had ever +faced, the leader chose to make the first leap himself. It was true that +these two had neither such horns nor razor-edged hoofs as the elk, yet +they had eyes that chilled his heart when he tried to look at them. But +one was lying almost prone, and the fire was out. Besides, the madness +of starvation, intensified ten times by their terrible realization of +the wound at her hip, was upon the pack as never before. The muscles +bunched at his lean flanks. + +But as Snowbird and her father gazed at him in fascinated horror, the +great wolf suddenly smashed down in the snow. She was aware of its +curious, utter collapse actually before the sound of the rifle shot that +occasioned it had penetrated her consciousness. It was a perfect shot at +long range; and for a long instant her tortured faculties refused to +accept the truth. + +Then the rifle spoke again, and a second wolf--a large male that +crouched on the other side of the sled--fell kicking in the snow. The +pack had leaped forward at the first death; but they halted at the +second. And then terror came to them when the third wolf suddenly opened +its savage lips and screamed in the death agony. + +Up to this time, except for the report of the rifle, the attack had been +made in utter silence. The reason was just that both breath and nervous +force are needed to shout; and Dan Failing could afford to waste neither +of these vital forces. He had dropped to his knee, and was firing again +and again, his gray eyes looking clear and straight along the barrel, +his fingers without jerk or tremor pressing again and again at the +trigger, his hands holding the rifle as in a vice. Every nerve and +muscle were completely in his command. The distance was far, yet he shot +with deadly, amazing accuracy. The wolves were within a few feet of the +girl, and a fraction's waver in the gun barrel might have sped his +bullet toward her. + +"It's Dan Failing," Lennox shouted as the fourth wolf died. + +Then Snowbird snatched her pistol from her father's hand and opened +fire. The two shells were no longer needed to free herself and her +father from the agony of fangs. She took careful aim, and although a +pistol is never as accurate or as powerful as a rifle, she killed one +wolf and wounded another. + +Frenzied in their savagery, three or four of the remaining wolves leaped +at the body of one of the wounded; but the others scattered in all +directions. Still Dan fired with the same unbelievable accuracy, and +still the wolves died in the snow. The girl and the man were screaming +now in the frenzied joy of deliverance. The wolves scurried frantically +among the trees; and some of them unknowingly ran full in the face of +their enemy, to be shot down without mercy. And few indeed were those +that escaped,--to collect on a distant ridge, and, perhaps, to be +haunted in dreams by a Death that came out of the shadows to blast the +pack. + +Again the pack-song would be despairing and strange in the winter +nights,--that age-old chant of Famine and Fear and the long war of +existence with only Death and Darkness in the end. And because it is the +voice of the wilderness itself, the tenderfoot that camps in the +evergreen forest will listen, and his talk will die at his lips, and he +will have the beginnings of knowledge. And perhaps he will wonder if God +has given him the thews and fiber to meet the wilderness breast to +breast as Dan had met it: to remain and to fight and to conquer. And +thereby his metal will be tested in the eyes of the Red Gods. + +Snowbird stood waiting in the snow, arms stretched to her forester as +Dan came running through the wood. But his arms were wider yet, and she +went softly into them. + + * * * * * + +"We will take it easy from now on," Dan Failing told them, after the +camp was cleared of its dead and the fire was built high. "We have +plenty of food; and we will travel a little while each day and make warm +camps at night. We'll have friendship fires, just as sometimes we used +to build on the ridge." + +"But after you get down into the valleys?" Lennox asked anxiously. "Are +you and Snowbird coming up here to live?" + +The silence fell over their camp; and a wounded wolf whined in the +darkness. "Do you think I could leave it now?" Dan asked. By no gift of +words could he have explained why; yet he knew that by token of his +conquest, his spirit was wedded to the dark forests forever. "But heaven +knows what I'll do for a living." + +Snowbird crept near him, and her eyes shone in the bright firelight. +"I've solved that," she said. "You know you studied forestry--and I told +the supervisor at the station how much you knew about it. I wasn't going +to tell you until--until certain things happened--and now they have +happened, I can't wait another instant. He said that with a little more +study you could get into the Forest Service--take an examination and +become a ranger. You're a natural forester if one ever lived, and you'd +love the work." + +"Besides," Lennox added, "it would clip my Snowbird's wings to make her +live on the plains. My big house will be rebuilt, children. There will +be fires in the fireplace on the fall nights. There is no use of +thinking of the plains." + +"And there's going to be a smaller house--just a cottage at first--right +beside it," Dan replied. He could go back to his forests, after all. He +wouldn't have to throw away his birthright, fought for so hard; and it +seemed to him no other occupation could offer so much as that of the +forest rangers,--those silent, cool-nerved guardians of the forest and +keepers of its keys. + +For a long time Snowbird and he stood together at the edge of the +firelight, their bodies warm from the glow, their hearts brimming with +words they could not utter. Words always come hard to the mountain +people. They are folk of action, and Dan, rather than to words, trusted +to the yearning of his arms. + +"We're made for each other, Snowbird darling," he told her breathlessly +at last. "And at last I can claim what I've been waiting for all these +months." + +He claimed it; and in open defiance to all civil law, he collected fully +one hundred times in the next few minutes. But it didn't particularly +matter, and Snowbird didn't even turn her face. "Maybe you've forgotten +you claimed it when you first came back too," she said. + +So he had. It had completely slipped his mind, in the excitement of his +fight with the wolf pack. And then while Lennox pretended to be asleep, +they sat, breathless with happiness, on the edge of the sled and watched +the dawn come out. + +They had never seen the snow so lovely in the sunlight. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Voice of the Pack, by Edison Marshall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE OF THE PACK *** + +***** This file should be named 33877-8.txt or 33877-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/7/33877/ + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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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 Voice of the Pack + +Author: Edison Marshall + +Release Date: October 20, 2010 [EBook #33877] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE OF THE PACK *** + + + + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1>THE VOICE OF THE PACK</h1> + +<h2>By EDISON MARSHALL</h2> + + +<h3>A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +Publishers New York</h3> + +<h3>Published by arrangement with Little, Brown, and Company</h3> + +<h3><i>Copyright, 1920</i>,<br /> +By Little, Brown, and Company.</h3> + +<h3><i>All rights reserved</i></h3> + +<h3>Published, April, 1920<br /> +Reprinted, May, 1920</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>TO MY FATHER<br /> +GEORGE EDWARD MARSHALL<br /> +OF MEDFORD, OREGON<br /> +HIMSELF A SON OF FRONTIERSMEN</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#PROLOGUE"><span class="smcap">Prologue</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_ONE">BOOK ONE—<span class="smcap">Repatriation</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#I">I</a><br /> +<a href="#II">II</a><br /> +<a href="#III">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV</a><br /> +<a href="#V">V</a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_TWO">BOOK TWO—<span class="smcap">The Debt</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#IB">I</a><br /> +<a href="#IIB">II</a><br /> +<a href="#IIIB">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IVB">IV</a><br /> +<a href="#VB">V</a><br /> +<a href="#VIB">VI</a><br /> +<a href="#VIIB">VII</a><br /> +<a href="#VIIIB">VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#IXB">IX</a><br /> +<a href="#XB">X</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_THREE">BOOK THREE—<span class="smcap">The Payment</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#IC">I</a><br /> +<a href="#IIC">II</a><br /> +<a href="#IIIC">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IVC">IV</a><br /> +<a href="#VC">V</a><br /> +<a href="#VIC">VI</a><br /> +<a href="#VIIC">VII</a><br /> +<a href="#VIIIC">VIII</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE VOICE OF THE PACK</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PROLOGUE" id="PROLOGUE"></a>PROLOGUE</h2> + +<blockquote><p>If one can just lie close enough to the breast of the +wilderness, he can't help but be imbued with some of the life +that pulses therein.—<i>From a Frontiersman's Diary</i>.</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Long ago, when the great city of Gitcheapolis was a rather small, untidy +hamlet in the middle of a plain, it used to be that a pool of water, +possibly two hundred feet square, gathered every spring immediately back +of the courthouse. The snow falls thick and heavy in Gitcheapolis in +winter; and the pond was nothing more than snow water that the +inefficient drainage system of the city did not quite absorb. Now snow +water is occasionally the most limpid, melted-crystal thing in the +world. There are places just two thousand miles west of Gitcheapolis +where you can see it pouring pure and fresh off of the snow fields, +scouring out a ravine from the great rock wall of a mountain side, +leaping faster than a deer leaps—and when you speak of the speed of a +descending deer you speak of something the usual mortal eye can +scarcely follow—from cataract to cataract; and the sight is always a +pleasing one to behold. Incidentally, these same snow streams are quite +often simply swarming with trout,—brook and cutthroat, steelhead and +even those speckled fellows that fishermen call Dolly Vardens for some +reason that no one has ever quite been able to make out. They are to be +found in every ripple, and they bite at a fly as if they were going to +crush the steel hook into dust between their teeth, and the cold water +gives them spirit to fight until the last breath of strength is gone +from their beautiful bodies. How they came there, and what their purpose +is in ever climbing up the river that leads nowhere but to a snow bank, +no one exactly knows.</p> + +<p>The snow water back of the courthouse was not like this at all. Besides +being the despair of the plumbers and the city engineer, it was a severe +strain on the beauty-loving instincts of every inhabitant in the town +who had any such instincts. It was muddy and murky and generally +distasteful; and lastly, there were no trout in it. Neither were there +any mud cat such as were occasionally to be caught in the Gitcheapolis +River.</p> + +<p>A little boy played at the edge of the water, this spring day of long +ago. Except for his interest in the pond, it would have been scarcely +worth while to go to the trouble of explaining that it contained no +fish. He, however, bitterly regretted the fact. In truth, he sometimes +liked to believe that it did contain fish, very sleepy fish that never +made a ripple, and as he had an uncommon imagination he was sometimes +able to convince himself that this was so. But he never took hook and +line and played at fishing. He was too much afraid of the laughter of +his boy friends. His mother probably wouldn't object if he fished here, +he thought, particularly if he were careful not to get his shoes covered +with mud. But she wouldn't let him go down to Gitcheapolis Creek to fish +with the other boys for mud cat. He was not very strong, she thought, +and it was a rough sport anyway, and besides,—she didn't think he +wanted to go very badly. As mothers are usually particularly +understanding, this was a curious thing.</p> + +<p>The truth was that little Dan Failing wanted to fish almost as much as +he wanted to live. He would dream about it of nights. His blood would +glow with the thought of it in the spring-time. Women the world over +will have a hard time believing what an intense, heart-devouring passion +the love of the chase can be, whether it is for fishing or hunting or +merely knocking golf balls into a little hole upon a green. Sometimes +they don't remember that this instinct is just as much a part of most +men, and thus most boys, as their hands or their lips. It was acquired +by just as laborious a process,—the lives of uncounted thousands of +ancestors who fished and hunted for a living.</p> + +<p>It was true that little Dan didn't look the part. Even then he showed +signs of physical frailty. His eyes looked rather large, and his cheeks +were not the color of fresh sirloin as they should have been. In fact, +one would have had to look very hard to see any color in them at all. +These facts are interesting from the light they throw upon the next +glimpse of Dan, fully twenty years later.</p> + +<p>This story isn't about the pool of snow water; it is only partly about +Gitcheapolis. "Gitche" means great in the Indian language, and every one +knows what "apolis" means. There are a dozen cities in the +middle-western part of the United States just like it—with Indian +names, with muddy, snow-water pools, with slow rivers in which only mud +cat live—utterly surrounded by endless fields that slope levelly and +evenly to a drab horizon. And because that land is what it is, because +there are such cities as Gitcheapolis, there has sprung up in this +decade a far-seeing breed of men. They couldn't help but learn to see +far, on such prairies. And, like little Dan by the pool, they did all +their hunting and their fishing and exercised many of the instincts that +a thousand generations of wild men had instilled in them, in their +dreams alone. It was great exercise for the imagination. And perhaps +that has had something to do with the size of the crop of writers and +poets and artists that is now being harvested in the Middle West.</p> + +<p>Except for the fact that it was the background for the earliest picture +of little Dan, the pool back of the courthouse has very little +importance in his story. It did, however, afford an illustration to him +of one of the really astonishing truths of life. He saw a shadow in the +water that he pretended he thought might be a fish. He threw a stone at +it.</p> + +<p>The only thing that happened was a splash, and then a slowly widening +ripple. The circumference of the ripple grew ever larger, extended and +widened, and finally died at the edge of the shore. It set little Dan to +thinking. He wondered if, had the pool been larger, the ripple still +would have spread; and if the pool had been eternity, whether the ripple +would have gone on forever. At the time he did not know the laws of +cause and effect. Later, when Gitcheapolis was great and prosperous and +no longer untidy, he was going to find out that a cause is nothing but a +rock thrown into a pond of infinity, and the ripple that is its effect +keeps growing and growing forever.</p> + +<p>It is a very old theme, but the astonishment it creates is always new. A +man once figured out that if Clovis had spared one life that he +took—say that of the under-chief whose skull he shattered to pay him +for breaking the vase of Soissons—there would be to-day the same races +but an entirely different set of individuals. The effect would grow and +grow as the years passed. The man's progeny each in turn would leave his +mark upon the world, and the result would be—too vast to contemplate. +The little incident that is the real beginning of this story was of no +more importance than a pebble thrown into the snow-water pond; but its +effect was to remove the life of Dan Failing, since grown up, far out of +the realms of the ordinary.</p> + +<p>And that brings all matters down to 1919, in the last days of a +particularly sleepy summer. You would hardly know Gitcheapolis now. It +is true that the snows still fall deep in winter, but the city engineer +has finally solved the problem of the pool back of the courthouse. In +fact, the courthouse itself is gone, and rebuilt in a more pretentious +section of the city. The business district has increased tenfold. And +the place where used to be the pool and the playground of Dan Failing is +now laid off in as green and pretty a city park as one could wish to +see.</p> + +<p>The evidence points to the conclusion that the story some of the oldest +settlers told about this district was really so. They say that forty and +fifty and maybe seventy-five years ago, the quarter-section where the +park was laid out was a green little glade, with a real, natural lake in +the center. Later the lake was drained to raise corn, and the fish +therein—many of them such noble fish as perch and bass—all died in the +sun-baked mud. The pool that had gathered yearly was just the lake +trying, like a spent prize fighter, to come back. And it is rather +singular that buildings have been torn down and money has been spent to +restore the little glade to its original charm; and now construction has +been started to build an artificial lake in the center. One would be +inclined to wonder why things weren't kept the way they were in the +first place. But that is the way of cities.</p> + +<p>Some day, when the city becomes more prosperous, a pair of swans and a +herd of deer are going to be introduced, to restore some of the natural +wild life of the park. But in the summer of 1919, a few small birds and +possibly half a dozen pairs of squirrels were the extent and limit of +the wild creatures. And at the moment this story opens, one of these +squirrels was perched on a wide-spreading limb over-arching a gravel +path that slanted through the sunlit park. The squirrel was hungry. He +wished that some one would come along with a nut.</p> + +<p>There was a bench beneath the tree. If there had not been, the life of +Dan Failing would have been entirely different. In fact, as the events +will show, there wouldn't have been any life worth talking about at all. +If the squirrel had been on any other tree, if he hadn't been hungry, if +any one of a dozen other things hadn't been as they were, Dan Failing +would have never gone back to the land of his people. The little +bushy-tailed fellow on the tree limb was the squirrel of Destiny!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_ONE" id="BOOK_ONE"></a>BOOK ONE</h2> + +<h3>REPATRIATION</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>Dan Failing stepped out of the elevator and was at once absorbed in the +crowd that ever surged up and down Broad Street. Where the crowd came +from, or what it was doing, or where it was going was one of the +mysteries of Gitcheapolis. It appealed to a person rather as does a +river: eternal, infinite, having no control over its direction or +movement, but only subject to vast, underlying natural laws. In this +case, the laws were neither gravity nor cohesion, but rather unnamed +laws that go clear back to the struggle for existence and +self-preservation. Once in the crowd, Failing surrendered up all +individuality. He was just one of the ordinary drops of water, not an +interesting, elaborate, physical and chemical combination to be studied +on the slide of a microscope. No one glanced at him in particular. He +was enough like the other drops of water not to attract attention. He +wore fairly passable clothes, neither rich nor shabby. He was a tall +man, but gave no impression of strength because of the exceeding +spareness of his frame. As long as he remained in the crowd, he wasn't +important enough to be studied. But soon he turned off, through the +park, and straightway found himself alone.</p> + +<p>The noise and bustle of the crowd—never loud or startling, but so +continuous that the senses are scarcely more aware of them than of the +beating of one's own heart—suddenly and utterly died almost at the very +border of the park. It was as if an ax had chopped them off, and left +the silence of the wild place. The gravel path that slanted through the +green lawns did not lead anywhere in particular. It made a big loop and +came out almost where it went in. Perhaps that is the reason that the +busy crowds did not launch forth upon it. Crowds, like electricity, take +the shortest course. Moreover, the hour was still some distance from +noon, and the afternoon pleasure seekers had not yet come. But the +morning had advanced far enough so that all the old castaways that had +slept in the park had departed. Dan had the path all to himself.</p> + +<p>Although he had plenty of other things to think about, the phenomena of +the sudden silence came home to him very straight indeed. The noise from +the street seemed wholly unable to penetrate the thick branches of the +trees. He could even hear the leaves whisking and flicking together, +and when a man can discern this, he can hear the cushions of a mountain +lion on a trail at night. Of course Dan Failing had never heard a +mountain lion. Except on the railroad tracks between, he had never +really been away from cities in his life.</p> + +<p>At once his thought went back to the doctor's words. Dan had a very +retentive memory, as well as an extra fine imagination. The two always +seem to go together. The words were still repeating themselves over and +over in his ears, and the doctor's face was still before his eyes. It +had been a kind face; the lips had even curled in a little smile of +encouragement. But the doctor had been perfectly frank, entirely +straightforward. Dan was glad that he had. At least, he was rid of the +dreadful uncertainty. There had been no evasion in his verdict.</p> + +<p>"I've made every test," he said. "They're pretty well shot. Of course, +you can go to some sanitarium, if you've got the money. If you +haven't—enjoy yourself all you can for about six months."</p> + +<p>Dan's voice had been perfectly cool and sure when he replied. He had +smiled a little, too. He was still rather proud of that smile. "Six +months? Isn't that rather short?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe a whole lot shorter. I think that's the limit."</p> + +<p>There was the situation: Dan Failing had but six months to live. Of +course, the doctor said, if he had the money he could go to a +sanitarium. But he had spoken entirely hopelessly. Besides, Dan didn't +have the money. He pushed all thought of sanitariums out of his mind. +Instead, he began to wonder whether his mother had been entirely wise in +her effort to keep him from the "rough games" of the boys of his own +age. He realized now that he had been an under-weight all his +life,—that the frailty that had thrust him to the edge of the grave had +begun in his earliest boyhood. But it wasn't that he was born with +physical handicaps. He had weighed a full ten pounds; and the doctor had +told his father that a sturdier little chap was not to be found in any +maternity bed in the whole city. But his mother was convinced that the +child was delicate and must be sheltered. Never in all the history of +his family, so far as Dan knew, had there been a death from the malady +that afflicted him. Yet his sentence was signed and sealed.</p> + +<p>But he harbored no resentment against his mother. It was all in the +game. She had done what she thought was best. And he began to wonder in +what way he could get the greatest pleasure from his last six months of +life.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he suddenly breathed. "I may not even be here to see the +snows come!" Perhaps there was a grim note in his voice. There was +certainly no tragedy, no offensive sentimentality. He was looking the +matter in the face. But it was true that Dan had always been partial to +the winter season. When the snow lay all over the farmlands and bowed +down the limbs of the trees, it had always wakened a curious flood of +feelings in the wasted man. It seemed to him that he could remember +other winters, wherein the snow lay for endless miles over an endless +wilderness, and here and there were strange, many-toed tracks that could +be followed in the icy dawns. He didn't ever know just what made the +tracks, except that they were creatures of fang and talon that no law +had ever tamed. But of course it was just a fancy. He wasn't in the +least misled about it. He knew that he had never, in his lifetime, seen +the wilderness. Of course his grandfather had been a frontiersman of the +first order, and all his ancestors before him—a rangy, hardy breed +whose wings would crumple in civilization—but he himself had always +lived in cities. Yet the falling snows, soft and gentle but with a kind +of remorselessness he could sense but could not understand, had always +stirred him. He'd often imagined that he would like to see the forests +in winter. He knew something about forests. He had gone one year to +college and had studied all the forestry that the university heads would +let him take. Later he had read endless books on the same subject. But +the knowledge had never done him any good. Except for a few boyish +dreams, he never imagined that it would.</p> + +<p>In him you could see a reflection of the boy that played beside the pond +of snow water, twenty years before. His dark gray eyes were still rather +large and perhaps the wasted flesh around them made them seem larger +than they were. But it was a little hard to see them, as he wore large +glasses. His mother had been sure, years before, that he needed glasses; +and she had easily found an oculist that agreed with her.</p> + +<p>Now that he was alone on the path, the utter absence of color in his +cheeks was startling. That meant the absence of red,—that warm glow of +the blood, eager and alive in his veins. There was, indeed, another +color, visible only because of the stark whiteness of his skin. He was +newly shaven, and his lips and chin looked somewhat blue from the heavy +growth of hair under the skin. Perhaps an observer would have noticed +lean hands, with big-knuckled fingers, a rather firm mouth, and closely +cropped dark hair. He was twenty-nine years of age, but he looked +somewhat older. He knew now that he was never going to be any older. A +doctor as sure of himself as the one he had just consulted couldn't +possibly be mistaken.</p> + +<p>It was rather refreshing to get into the park. Dan could think ever so +much more clearly. He never could think in a crowd. Someway, the +hurrying people always seemed to bewilder him. Here the leaves were +flicking and rustling over his head, and the shadows made a curious +patchwork on the green lawns. He became quite calm and reflective. And +then he sat down on a park bench, just beneath the spreading limb of a +great tree. He would sit here, he thought, until he finally decided what +he would do with his remaining six months.</p> + +<p>He hadn't been able to go to war. The recruiting officer had been very +kind but most determined. The boys had brought him great tales of +France. It might be nice to go to France and live in some country inn +until he died. But he didn't have very long to think upon this vein. For +at that instant the squirrel came down to see if he had a nut.</p> + +<p>It was the squirrel of Destiny. But Dan didn't know it then.</p> + +<p>Now it is true that it takes more than one generation for any wild +creature to get completely away from its natural timidity. Quite often a +person is met who has taken quail eggs from a nest and hatched them +beneath the warm body of a domestic hen. Just what is the value of such +a proceeding is rather hard to explain, as quail have neither the +instincts nor the training to enjoy life in a barnyard. Yet occasionally +it is done, and the little quail spend most of their days running +frantically up and down the coop, yearning for the wild, free spaces for +which they were created. But they haven't, as a rule, many days to spend +in this manner. Mostly they run until they die.</p> + +<p>The rule is said to work both ways. A tame canary, freed, will usually +try to return to his cage. And this is known to be true of human beings +just as of the wild creatures. There are certain breeds of men, used to +the far-lying hills, who, if inclosed in cities, run up and down them +until they die. The Indians, for instance, haven't ever been able to +adjust themselves to civilization. There are several thousand of them +now where once were millions.</p> + +<p>Bushy-tail was not particularly afraid of the human beings that passed +up and down the park, because he had learned by experience that they +usually attempted no harm to him. But, nevertheless, he had his +instincts. He didn't entirely trust them. Occasionally a child would +come with a bag of nuts, and he would sit on the grass not a dozen feet +away to gather such as were thrown to him. But all the time he kept one +sharp eye open for any sudden or dangerous motions. And every instinct +warned him against coming nearer than a dozen feet. After several +generations, probably the squirrels of this park would climb all over +its visitors and sniff in their ears and investigate the back of their +necks. But this wasn't the way of Bushy-tail. He had come too recently +from the wild places. And he wondered, most intensely, whether this +tall, forked creature had a pocket full of nuts. He swung down on the +grass to see.</p> + +<p>"Why, you little devil!" Dan said in a whisper. His eyes suddenly +sparkled with delight. And he forgot all about the doctor's words and +his own prospects in his bitter regrets that he had not brought a +pocketful of nuts. Unfortunately, he had never acquired the peanut +habit. His mother had always thought it vulgar.</p> + +<p>And then Dan did a curious thing. Even later, he didn't know why he did +it, or what gave him the idea that he could decoy the squirrel up to +him by doing it. That was his only purpose,—just to see how close the +squirrel would come to him. He thought he would like to look into the +bright eyes at close range. All he did was suddenly to freeze into one +position,—in an instant rendered as motionless as the rather +questionable-looking stone stork that was perched on the fountain.</p> + +<p>He didn't know it, at the time, but it was a most meritorious piece of +work. The truth was that he was acting solely by instinct. Men who have +lived long in the wilderness learn a very important secret in dealing +with wild animals. They know, in the first place, that intimacy with +them is solely a matter of sitting still and making no sudden motions. +It is motion, not shape, that frightens them. If a hunter is among a +herd of deer and wishes to pick the bucks off, one by one, he simply +sits still, moving his rifle with infinite caution, and the animal +intelligence does not extend far enough to interpret him as an enemy. +Instead of being afraid, the deer are usually only curious.</p> + +<p>Dan simply sat still. The squirrel was very close to him, and Dan seemed +to know by instinct that the movement of a single muscle would give him +away. So he sat as if he were posing before a photographer's camera. +The fact that he was able to do it is in itself important. It is +considerably easier to exercise with dumb-bells for five minutes than to +sit absolutely without motion for the same length of time. Hunters and +naturalists acquire the art with training. It was therefore rather +curious that Dan succeeded so well the first time he tried it. He had +sense enough to relax first, before he froze. Thus he didn't put such a +severe strain on his muscles. And this was another bit of wisdom that in +a tenderfoot would have caused much wonder in certain hairy old hunters +in the West.</p> + +<p>The squirrel, after ten seconds had elapsed, stood on his haunches to +see better. First he looked a long time with his left eye. Then he +turned his head and looked very carefully with his right. Then he backed +off a short distance and tried to get a focus with both. Then he came +some half-dozen steps nearer.</p> + +<p>A moment before he had been certain that a living creature—in fact one +of the most terrible and powerful living creatures in the world—had +been sitting on the park bench. Now his poor little brain was completely +addled. He was entirely ready to believe that his eyes had deceived him.</p> + +<p>All the time, Dan was sitting in perfectly plain sight. It wasn't as if +he were hiding. But the squirrel had learned to judge all life by its +motion alone, and he was completely at a loss to interpret or understand +a motionless figure.</p> + +<p>Bushy-tail drew off a little further, fully convinced at last that his +hopes of a nut from a child's hand were blasted. But he turned to look +once more. The figure still sat utterly inert. And all at once he forgot +his devouring hunger in the face of an overwhelming curiosity.</p> + +<p>He came somewhat nearer and looked a long time. Then he made a +half-circle about the bench, turning his head as he moved. He was more +puzzled than ever, but he was no longer afraid. His curiosity had become +so intense that no room for fear was left. And then he sprang upon the +park bench.</p> + +<p>Dan moved then. The movement consisted of a sudden heightening of the +light in his eyes. But the squirrel didn't see it. It takes a muscular +response to be visible to the eyes of the wild things.</p> + +<p>The squirrel crept slowly along the bench, stopping to sniff, stopping +to stare with one eye and another, just devoured from head to tail with +curiosity. And then he leaped on Dan's knee.</p> + +<p>He was quite convinced, by now, that this warm perch on which he stood +was the most singular and interesting object of his young life. It was +true that he was faintly worried by the smell that reached his nostrils. +But all it really did was further to incite his curiosity. He followed +the leg up to the hip and then perched on the elbow. And an instant more +he was poking a cold nose into Dan's neck.</p> + +<p>But if the squirrel was excited by all these developments, its amazement +was nothing compared to Dan's. It had been the most astounding incident +in the man's life. He sat still, tingling with delight. And in a single +flash of inspiration he knew he had come among his own people at last.</p> + +<p>The creatures of the wild,—they were the folk he had always secretly +loved and instinctively understood. His ancestors, for literally +generations, had been frontiersmen and outdoor naturalists who never +wrote books. Was it possible that they had bequeathed to him an +understanding and love of the wild that most men did not have? But +before he had time to meditate on this question, an idea seemed to pop +and flame like a Roman candle in his brain. He knew where he would spend +his last six months of life.</p> + +<p>His own grandfather had been a hunter and trapper and frontiersman in a +certain vast but little known Oregon forest. His son had moved to the +Eastern cities, but in Dan's garret there used to be old mementoes and +curios from these savage days,—a few claws and teeth, and a fragment of +an old diary. The call had come to him at last. Tenderfoot though he +was, Dan would go back to those forests, to spend his last six months of +life among the wild creatures that made them their home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>The dinner hour found Dan Failing in the public library of Gitcheapolis, +asking the girl who sat behind the desk if he might look at maps of +Oregon. He got out the whole question without coughing once, but in +spite of it she felt that he ought to be asking for California or +Arizona maps, rather than Oregon. People did not usually go to Oregon to +rid themselves of his malady. A librarian, as a rule, is a wonderfully +well-informed person; but her mental picture of Oregon was simply one +large rainstorm. She remembered that she used to believe that Oregon +people actually grew webs between their toes, and the place was thus +known as the Webfoot State. She didn't know that Oregon has almost as +many climates as the whole of nature has in stock,—snow in the east, +rain in the north, winds in the west, and sunshine in the south, with +all the grades between. There are certain sections where in midwinter +all hunters who do not particularly care to sink over their heads in +the level snow walk exclusively on snowshoes. There are others, not one +hundred miles distant, where any kind of snowstorm is as rare a +phenomenon as the seventeen-year locusts. Distances are rather vasty in +the West. For instance, the map that Dan Failing looked at did not seem +much larger than the map, say, of Maryland. Figures showed, however, +that at least two counties of Oregon were each as large as the whole +area of the former State.</p> + +<p>He remembered that his grandfather had lived in Southern Oregon. He +looked along the bottom of his map and discovered a whole empire, +ranging from gigantic sage plains to the east to dense forests along the +Pacific Ocean. Those sage flats, by the way, contain not only sage hens +as thick as poultry in a hen-yard and jack rabbits of a particularly +long-legged and hardy breed, but also America's one species of antelope. +Had Dan known that this was true, had he only been aware that these +antelope are without exception the fastest-running creatures upon the +face of the earth, he might have been tempted to go there instead of to +the land of his fathers. But all he saw on the map was a large brown +space marked at exceedingly long intervals with the name of a fort or +town. He began to search for Linkville.</p> + +<p>Time was when Linkville was one of the principal towns of Oregon. Dan +remembered the place because some of the time-yellowed letters his +grandfather had sent him had been mailed at a town that bore this name. +But he couldn't find Linkville on the map. Later he was to know the +reason,—that the town, halfway between the sage plains and the +mountains, had prospered and changed its name. He remembered that it was +located on one of those great fresh-water lakes of Southern Oregon; so, +giving up that search, he began to look for lakes. He found them in +plenty,—vast, unmeasured lakes that seemed to be distributed without +reason or sense over the whole southern end of the State. Near the +Klamath Lakes, seemingly the most imposing of all the fresh-water lakes +that the map revealed, he found a city named Klamath Falls. He put the +name down in his notebook.</p> + +<p>The map showed a particularly high, far-spreading range of mountains due +west of the city. Of course they were the Cascades; the map said so very +plainly. Then Dan knew he was getting home. His grandfather had lived +and trapped and died in these same wooded hills. Finally he located and +recorded the name of the largest city on the main railroad line that was +adjacent to the Cascades.</p> + +<p>The preparation for his departure took many days. He read many books on +flora and fauna. He bought sporting equipment. Knowing the usual ratio +between the respective pleasures of anticipation and realization, he did +not hurry himself at all. And one midnight he boarded a west-bound +train.</p> + +<p>There were none that he cared about bidding good-by. The sudden +realization of the fact brought a moment's wonder. He had not realized +that he had led such a lonely existence. There were men who were fitted +for living in cities, but perhaps he was not one of them. He saw the +station lights grow dim as the train pulled out. Soon he could discern +just a spark, here and there, from the city's outlying homes. And not +long after this, the silence and darkness of the farm lands closed down +upon the train.</p> + +<p>He sat for a long time in the vestibule of the sleeping car, thinking in +anticipation of this final adventure of his life. It is true that he had +not experienced many adventures. He had lived most of them in +imagination alone; or else, with tired eyes, he had read of the exploits +of other men. He was rather tremulous and exultant as he sank down into +his berth.</p> + +<p>He saw to it that at least a measure of preparation was made for his +coming. That night a long wire went out to the Chamber of Commerce of +one of the larger Southern Oregon cities. In it, he told the date of his +arrival and asked certain directions. He wanted to know the name of some +mountain rancher where possibly he might find board and room for the +remainder of the summer and the fall. He wanted shooting, and he +particularly cared to be near a river where trout might be found. They +never came up Gitcheapolis River, or leaped for flies in the pond back +of the courthouse. The further back from the paths of men, he wrote, the +greater would be his pleasure. And he signed the wire with his full +name: Dan Failing with a Henry in the middle, and a "III" at the end.</p> + +<p>He usually didn't sign his name in quite this manner. The people of +Gitcheapolis did not have particularly vivid memories of Dan's +grandfather. But it might be that a legend of the gray, straight +frontiersman who was his ancestor had still survived in these remote +Oregon wilds. The use of the full name would do no harm.</p> + +<p>Instead of hurting, it was a positive inspiration. The Chamber of +Commerce of the busy little Oregon city was not usually exceptionally +interested in stray hunters that wanted a boarding place for the summer. +Its business was finding country homes for orchardists in the pleasant +river valleys. But it happened that the recipient of the wire was one of +the oldest residents, a frontiersman himself, and it was one of the +traditions of the Old West that friendships were not soon forgotten. Dan +Failing I had been a legend in the old trapping and shooting days when +this man was young. So it came about that when Dan's train stopped at +Cheyenne, he found a telegram waiting him:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Any relation to Dan Failing of the Umpqua Divide?"</p></blockquote> + +<p>Dan had never heard of the Umpqua Divide, but he couldn't doubt but that +the sender of the wire referred to his grandfather. He wired in the +affirmative. The head of the Chamber of Commerce received the wire, read +it, thrust it into his desk, and in the face of a really important piece +of business proceeded to forget all about it. Thus it came about that, +except for one thing, Dan Failing would have probably stepped off the +train at his destination wholly unheralded and unmet. The one thing that +changed his destiny was that at a meeting of a certain widely known +fraternal order the next night, the Chamber of Commerce crossed trails +with the Frontier in the person of another old resident who had his +home in the farthest reaches of the Umpqua Divide. The latter asked the +former to come up for a few days' shooting—the deer being fatter and +more numerous than any previous season since the days of the grizzlies. +For it is true that one of the most magnificent breed of bears that ever +walked the face of the earth once left their footprints, as of +flour-sacks in the mud, from one end of the region to another.</p> + +<p>"Too busy, I'm afraid," the Chamber of Commerce had replied. "But +Lennox—that reminds me. Do you remember old Dan Failing?"</p> + +<p>Lennox probed back into the years for a single instant, straightened out +all the kinks of his memory in less time than the wind straightens out +the folds of a flag, and turned a most interested face. "Remember him!" +he exclaimed. "I should say I do." The middle-aged man half-closed his +piercing, gray eyes. Those piercing eyes are a characteristic peculiar +to the mountain men, and whether they come from gazing over endless +miles of winter snow, or from some quality of steel that life in the +mountains imbues, no one is quite able to determine.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Steele," he said. "I saw Dan Failing make a bet once. I was +just a kid, but I wake up in my sleep to marvel at it. We had a full +long glimpse of a black-tail bounding up a long slope. It was just a +spike-buck, and Dan Failing said he could take the left-hand spike off +with one shot from his old Sharpe's. Three of us bet him—the whole +thing in less than two seconds. With the next shot, he'd get the deer. +He won the bet, and now if I ever forget Dan Failing, I want to die."</p> + +<p>"You're just the man I'm looking for, then. You're not going out till +the day after to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"On the limited, hitting here to-morrow morning, there's a grandson of +Dan Failing. His name is Dan Failing too, and he wants to go up to your +place to hunt. Stay all summer and pay board."</p> + +<p>Lennox's eyes said that he couldn't believe it was true. After a while +his tongue spoke, too. "Good Lord," he said. "I used to foller Dan +around—like old Shag, before he died, followed Snowbird. Of course he +can come. But he can't pay board."</p> + +<p>It was rather characteristic of the mountain men,—that the grandson of +Dan Failing couldn't possibly pay board. But Steele knew the ways of +cities and of men, and he only smiled. "He won't come, then," he +explained. "Anyway, have that out with him at the end of his stay. He +wants fishing, and you've got that in the North fork. He wants shooting, +and if there is a place in the United States with more wild animals +around the back door than at your house, I don't know where it is. +Moreover, you're a thousand miles back—"</p> + +<p>"Only one hundred, if you must know. But Steele—do you suppose he's the +man his grandfather was before him—that all the Failings have been +since the first days of the Oregon trail? If he is—well, my hat's off +to him before he steps off the train."</p> + +<p>The mountaineer's bronzed face was earnest and intent in the bright +lights of the club. Steele thought he had known this breed. Now he began +to have doubts of his own knowledge. "He won't be; don't count on it," +he said humbly. "The Failings have done much for this region, and I'm +glad enough to do a little to pay it back, but don't count much on this +Eastern boy. He's lived in cities; besides, he's a sick man. He said so +in his wire. You ought to know it before you take him in."</p> + +<p>The bronzed face changed; possibly a shadow of disappointment came into +his eyes. "A lunger, eh?" Lennox repeated. "Yes—it's true that if he'd +been like the other Failings, he'd never have been that. Why, Steele, +you couldn't have given that old man a cold if you'd tied him in the +Rogue River overnight. Of course you couldn't count on the line keeping +up forever. But I'll take him, for the memory of his grandfather."</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid to?"</p> + +<p>"Afraid, Hell! He can't infect those two strapping children of mine. +Snowbird weighs one hundred and twenty pounds and is hard as steel. +Never knew a sick day in her life. And you know Bill, of course."</p> + +<p>Yes, Steele knew Bill. Bill weighed two hundred pounds, and he would +choose the biggest of the steers he drove down to the lower levels in +the winter and, twisting its horns, would make it lay over on its side. +Besides, both of the men assumed that Dan must be only in the first +stages of his malady.</p> + +<p>And even as the men talked, the train that bore Dan Failing to the home +of his ancestors was entering for the first time the dark forests of +pine and fir that make the eternal background of the Northwest. The wind +came cool and infinitely fresh into the windows of the sleeping car, and +it brought, as camels bring myrrh from the East, strange, pungent odors +of balsam and mountain flower and warm earth, cooling after a day of +blasting sun. And these smells all came straight home to Dan. He was +wholly unable to understand the strange feeling of familiarity that he +had with them, a sensation that in his dreams he had known them always, +and that he must never go out of the range of them again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>Dan didn't see his host at first. For the first instant he was entirely +engrossed by a surging sense of disappointment,—a feeling that he had +been tricked and had only come to another city after all. He got down on +to the gravel of the station yard, and out on the gray street pavement +he heard the clang of a trolley car. Trolley cars didn't fit into his +picture of the West at all. Many automobiles were parked just beside the +station, some of them foreign cars of expensive makes, such as he +supposed would be wholly unknown on the frontier. A man in golf clothes +brushed his shoulder.</p> + +<p>It wasn't a large city; but there was certainly lack of any suggestion +of the frontier. But there were a number of things that Dan Failing did +not know about the West. One of the most important of them was the +curious way in which wildernesses and busy cities are sometimes mixed up +indiscriminately together, and how one can step out of a modern country +club to hear the coyotes wailing on the hills. He really had no right to +feel disappointed. He had simply come to the real West—that bewildering +land in which To-morrow and Yesterday sit right next to each other, with +no To-day between. The cities, often built on the dreams of the future, +sometimes are modern to such a point that they give many a sophisticated +Eastern man a decided shock. But quite often this quality extends to the +corporation limits and not a step further. Then, likely as not, they +drop sheer off, as over a precipice, into the utter wildness of the +Past.</p> + +<p>Dan looked up to the hills, and he felt better. He couldn't see them +plainly. The faint smoke of a distant forest fire half obscured them. +Yet he saw fold on fold of ridges of a rather peculiar blue in color, +and even his untrained eyes could see that they were clothed in forests +of evergreen. It is a strange thing about evergreen forests that they +never, even when one is close to them, appear to be really green. To a +distant eye, they range all the way from lavender to a pale sort of blue +for which no name has ever been invented. Just before dark, when, as all +mountaineers know, the sky turns green, the forests are simply curious, +dusky shadows. The pines are always dark. Perhaps, after all, they are +simply the symbol of the wilderness,—eternal, silent, and in a vague +way rather dark and sad. No one who really knows the mountains can +completely get away from their tone of sadness. Over the heads of the +green hills Dan could see a few great peaks; McLaughlin, even and +regular as a painted mountain; Wagner, with queer white gashes where the +snow still lay in its ravines, and to the southeast the misty range of +snow-covered hills that were the Siskeyous. He felt decidedly better. +And when he saw old Silas Lennox waiting patiently beside the station, +he felt he had come to the right place.</p> + +<p>It would be interesting to explain why Dan at once recognized the older +man for the breed he was. But unfortunately, there are certain of the +many voices that speak within the minds of human beings of which +scientists have never been able to take phonographic records. They +simply whisper their messages, and their hearer, without knowing why, +knows that he has heard the truth. Silas Lennox was not dressed in a way +that would distinguish him. It was true that he wore a flannel shirt, +riding trousers, and rather heavy, leathern boots. But sportsmen all +over the face of the earth wear this costume at sundry times. Mountain +men have a peculiar stride by which experienced persons can occasionally +recognize them; but Silas Lennox was standing still when Dan got his +first glimpse of him. The case resolves itself into a simple matter of +the things that could be read in Lennox's face.</p> + +<p>Dan disbelieved wholly in a book that told how to read characters at +sight. Yet at the first glance of the lean, bronzed face his heart gave +a curious little bound. A pair of gray eyes met his,—two fine black +points in a rather hard gray iris. They didn't look past him, or at +either side of him, or at his chin or his forehead. They looked right at +his own eyes. The skin around the eyes was burned brown by the sun, and +the flesh was so lean that the cheek bones showed plainly. The mouth was +straight; but yet it was neither savage nor cruel. It was simply +determined.</p> + +<p>But the strangest part of all was that Dan felt an actual sense of +familiarity with this kind of man. To his knowledge, he had never known +one before; and it was extremely doubtful if, in his middle-western +city, he had even seen the type. In spite of the fact that he thinks +nothing of starting out thirty miles across the snow on snowshoes, the +mountain man cannot be called an extensive traveler. He plans to go to +some great city once in a lifetime and dreams about it of nights, but +rather often the Death that is every one's next-door neighbor in the +wilderness comes in and cheats him out of the trip. Few of the breed had +ever come to Gitcheapolis. Yet all his life, Dan felt, he had known this +straight, gray-eyed mountain breed even better than he knew the boys +that went to college with him. At the time he didn't stop to wonder at +the feeling. He was too busy looking about. But the time was to come +when he would wonder and conclude that it was just another bit of +evidence pointing to the same conclusion. And besides this unexplainable +feeling of familiarity, he felt a sudden sense of peace, even a quiet +sort of exultation, such as a man feels when he gets back into his own +home country at last.</p> + +<p>Lennox came up with a light, silent tread and extended his hand. "You're +Dan Failing's grandson, aren't you?" he asked. "I'm Silas Lennox, who +used to know him when he lived on the Divide. You are coming to spend +the summer and fall on my ranch."</p> + +<p>The immediate result of these words, besides relief, was to set Dan +wondering how the old mountaineer had recognized him. He wondered if he +had any physical resemblance to his grandfather. But this hope was shot +to earth at once. His telegram had explained about his malady, and of +course the mountaineer had picked him out simply because he had the +mark of the disease on his face. As he shook hands, he tried his best +to read the mountaineer's expression. It was all too plain: an +undeniable look of disappointment.</p> + +<p>The truth was that even in spite of all the Chamber of Commerce head had +told him, Lennox had still hoped to find some image of the elder Dan +Failing in the face and body of his grandson. But at first there seemed +to be none at all. The great hunter and trapper who had tamed the +wilderness about the region of the Divide—as far as mortal man could +tame it—had a skin that was rather the color of old leather. The face +of this young man was wholly without tinge of color. Because of the +thick glasses, Lennox could not see the young man's eyes; but he didn't +think it likely they were at all like the eyes with which the elder +Failing saw his way through the wilderness at night. Of course he was +tall, just as the famous frontiersman had been, but while the elder +weighed one hundred and ninety pounds, bone and muscle, this man did not +touch one hundred and thirty. Evidently the years had brought degeneracy +to the Failing clan. Lennox was desolated by the thought.</p> + +<p>He helped Dan with his bag to a little wiry automobile that waited +beside the station. They got into the two front seats.</p> + +<p>"You'll be wondering at my taking you in a car—clear to the Divide," +Lennox explained. "But we mountain men can't afford to drive horses any +more where a car will go. This time of year I can make it fairly +easy—only about fifteen miles on low gear. But in the winter—it's +either a case of coming down on snowshoes or staying there."</p> + +<p>And a moment later they were starting up the long, curved road that led +to the Divide.</p> + +<p>During the hour that they were crossing over the foothills, on the way +to the big timber, Silas Lennox talked a great deal about the +frontiersman that had been Dan's grandfather. A mountain man does not +use profuse adjectives. He talks very simply and very straight, and +often there are long silences between his sentences. Yet he conveys his +ideas with entire clearness.</p> + +<p>Dan realized at once that if he could be, in Lennox's eyes, one fifth of +the man his grandfather had been, he would never have to fear again the +look of disappointment with which his host had greeted him at the +station. But instead of reaching that high place, he had only—death. He +was never to be one of this strong breed from which his people sprang. +Always they would accept him for the memories that they held of his +ancestors, pity him for his weakness, and possibly be kind enough to +deplore his death. He never need fear any actual expressions of scorn. +Lennox had a natural refinement that forbade it. Dan never knew a more +intense desire than that to make good in the eyes of these mountain men. +Far back, they had been his own people; and all men know that the +upholding of a family's name and honor has been one of the greatest +impulses for good conduct and great deeds since the beginnings of +civilization. But Dan pushed the hope out of his mind at once. He knew +what his destiny was in these quiet hills. And it was true that he began +to have secret regrets that he had come. But it wasn't that he was +disappointed in the land that was opening up before him. It fulfilled +every promise. His sole reason for regrets lay in the fact that now the +whole mountain world would know of the decay that had come upon his +people. Perhaps it would have been better to have left them to their +traditions.</p> + +<p>He had never dreamed that the fame of his grandfather had spread so far. +For the first ten miles, Dan listened to stories,—legends of a cold +nerve that simply could not be shaken; of a powerful, tireless physique; +of moral and physical strength that was seemingly without limit. Then, +as the foothills began to give way to the higher ridges, and the shadow +of the deeper forests fell upon the narrow, brown road, there began to +be long gaps in the talk. And soon they rode in utter silence, evidently +both of them absorbed in their own thoughts.</p> + +<p>Dan did not wonder at it at all. Perhaps he began to faintly understand +the reason for the silence and the reticence that is such a predominant +trait in the forest men. There is a quality in the big timber that +doesn't make for conversation, and no one has ever been completely +successful in explaining what it is. Perhaps there is a feeling of +insignificance, a sensation that is particularly insistent in the winter +snows. No man can feel like talking very loudly when he is the only +living creature within endless miles. The trees, towering and old, seem +to ignore him as a being too unimportant to notice. And besides, the +silence of the forest itself seems to get into the spirit, and the +great, quiet spaces that lie between tree and tree simply dry up the +springs of conversation. Dan did not feel oppressed at all. He merely +seemed to fall into the spirit of the woods, and no words came to his +lips. He began to watch the ever-changing vista that the curving road +revealed.</p> + +<p>First there had been brown hills, and here and there great heaps of +stone. The brush had been rather scrubby, and the trees somewhat sickly +and brown. But now, as the men mounted higher, they were coming into +open forest. The trees stood one and one, perfect, dark-limbed, and only +the carpet of their needles lay between. The change was evidenced in the +streams, too. They seemingly had not suffered from the drought that had +sucked up the valley streams. They were faster, whiter with foam, and +the noise of their falling waters carried farther through the still +woods. The road followed the long shoulder of a ridge, an easy grade of +perhaps six per cent, but Dan counted ridges sloping off until he was +tired.</p> + +<p>By now the smaller wild things of the mountains began to present +themselves a breathless instant beside the road. These little people +have an actual purpose in the hills other than to furnish food for the +larger forest creatures. They give a note of sociability, of +companionship, that is sorely needed to dull the edge of the utter, +stark lonesomeness and severity that is the usual tone of the mountains. +The fact that they all live under the snow in winter is one reason why +this season is especially dreadful to the spirit.</p> + +<p>Every tree trunk seemed to have its chipmunks, and they all appeared to +be suffering from the same delusion. They all were afflicted with the +idea that the car was trying to cut off their retreat, and only by +crossing the road in front of it could they save themselves. This idea +is a particularly prevalent one with wild animals; and it is the same +instinct that makes a domestic cow almost invariably cross the road in +front of a motorist. And it also explains why certain cowardly animals, +such as the wolf or cougar, will sometimes seemingly without a cause on +earth, make a desperate charge on a hunter. They think their retreat is +cut off, and they have to fight. Again and again the chipmunks crossed +at the risk of their lives. Sometimes the two men saw those big, +flat-footed rabbits that are especially constructed for moving about in +the winter snows, and more than once the grouse rose with a whir and +beat of wings.</p> + +<p>Every mile was an added delight to Dan. Not even wine could have brought +a brighter sparkle to his eyes. He had begun to experience a vague sort +of excitement, an emotion that was almost kin to exultation, over the +constant stir and movement of the forest life. He didn't know that a +bird dog feels the same when it gets to the uplands where the quail are +hiding. He had no acquaintance with bird dogs whatever. He hadn't +remembered that he had qualities in common with them,—a long line of +ancestors who had lived by hunting.</p> + +<p>Once, as they stopped the car to refill the radiator from a mountain +stream, Lennox looked at him with sudden curiosity. "You are getting a +thrill out of this, aren't you?" he asked wonderingly.</p> + +<p>It was a curious tone. Perhaps it was a hopeful tone, too. He spoke as +if he hardly understood.</p> + +<p>"A thrill!" Dan echoed. He spoke as a man speaks in the presence of some +great wonder. "Good Heavens, I never saw anything like it in my life."</p> + +<p>"In this very stream," the mountaineer told him joyously, "you may +occasionally catch trout that weigh three pounds."</p> + +<p>But as he got back into the car, the look of interest died out of +Lennox's eyes. Of course any man would be somewhat excited by his first +glimpse of the wilderness. It was not that he had inherited any of the +traits of his grandfather. It was absurd to hope that he had. And he +would soon get tired of the silences and want to go back to his cities. +He told his thought—that it would all soon grow old to him; and Dan +turned almost in anger.</p> + +<p>"You don't know," he said. "I didn't know myself, how I would feel about +it. I'm never going to leave the hills again."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that."</p> + +<p>"But I do." He tried to speak further, but he coughed instead. "But I +couldn't if I wanted to. That cough tells you why, I guess."</p> + +<p>"You mean to say—" Silas Lennox turned in amazement. "You mean that +you're a—a goner? That you've given up hope of recovering?"</p> + +<p>"That's the impression I meant to convey. I've got a little over four +months—though I don't see that I'm any weaker than I was when the +doctor said I had six months. Those four will take me all through the +fall and the early winter. And I hope you won't feel that you've been +imposed upon—to have a dying man on your hands."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that." Silas Lennox threw his car into gear and started up the +long grade. And he drove clear to the top of it and into another glen +before he spoke again. Then he pointed to what looked to Dan like a +brown streak that melted into the thick brush. "That was a deer," he +said slowly. "Just a glimpse, but your grandfather could have got him +between the eyes. Most like as not, though, he'd have let him go. He +never killed except when he needed meat. But that—as you say—ain't the +impression I'm trying to convey."</p> + +<p>He seemed to be groping for words.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Mr. Lennox?" Dan asked.</p> + +<p>"Instead of being sorry, I'm mighty glad you've come," Lennox told him. +"It's not that I expect you to be like your grandfather. You haven't had +his chance. But it's always the way of true men, the world over, to come +back to their own kind to die. That deer we just saw—he's your people, +and so are all these ranchers that grub their lives out of the +forests—they are your people too. The bears and the elk, and even the +porcupines. Though you likely won't care for 'em, it's almost as if they +were your grandfather's own folks. And you couldn't have pleased the old +man's old friends any better, or done more for his memory, than to come +back to his own land for your last days."</p> + +<p>There were great depths of meaning in the simple words. There were +significances, such as the love that the mountain men have for their own +land, that came but dimly to Dan's perceptions. The words were strange, +yet Dan intuitively understood. It was as if a prodigal son had returned +at last, and although his birthright was squandered and he came only to +die, the people of his home would give him kindness and forgiveness, +even though they could not give him their respect.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p>The Lennox home was a typical mountain ranch-house,—square, solid, +comforting in storm and wind. Bill was out to the gate when the car +drove up. He was a son of his father, a strong man in body and +personality. He too had heard of the elder Failing, and he opened his +eyes when he saw the slender youth that was his grandson. And he led the +way into the white-walled living room.</p> + +<p>The shadows of twilight were just falling; and Bill had already lighted +a fire in the fireplace to remove the chill that always descends with +the mountain night. The whole long room was ruddy and cheerful in its +glare. At once the elder Lennox drew a chair close to it for Dan.</p> + +<p>"You must be chilly and worn-out from the long ride," he suggested +quietly. He spoke in the tone a strong man invariably uses toward an +invalid. But while a moment before Dan had welcomed the sight of the +leaping, life-giving flames, he felt a curious resentment at the words.</p> + +<p>"I'm not cold," he said. "It's hardly dark yet. I'd sooner go outdoors +and look around."</p> + +<p>The elder man regarded him curiously, perhaps with the faintest glimmer +of admiration. "You'd better wait till to-morrow, Dan," he replied. +"Bill will have supper soon, anyway. To-morrow we'll walk up the ridge +and I'll see if I can show you a deer. You don't want to overdo too +much, right at first."</p> + +<p>"But, good Heavens! I'm not going to try to spare myself while I'm here. +It's too late for that."</p> + +<p>"Of course—but sit down now, anyway. I'm sorry that Snowbird isn't +here."</p> + +<p>"Snowbird is—"</p> + +<p>"My daughter. My boy, she can make a biscuit! That's not her name, of +course, but we've always called her that. She got tired of keeping house +and is working this summer. Poor Bill has to keep house for her, and no +wonder he's eager to take the stock down to the lower levels. I only +wish he hadn't brought 'em up this spring at all; I've lost dozens from +the coyotes."</p> + +<p>"But a coyote can't kill cattle—"</p> + +<p>"It can if it has hydrophobia, a common thing in the varmints this time +of year. But as I say, Bill will take the stock down next season, and +then Snowbird's work will be through, and she'll come back here."</p> + +<p>"Then she's down in the valley?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it. She's a mountain girl if one ever lived. Perhaps you don't +know the recent policy of the forest service to hire women when they can +be obtained. It was a policy started in wartimes and kept up now because +it is economical and efficient. She and a girl from college have a cabin +not five miles from here on old Bald Mountain, and they're doing lookout +duty."</p> + +<p>Dan wondered intensely what lookout duty might be. His thoughts went +back to his early study of forestry. "You see, Dan," Lennox said in +explanation, "the government loses thousands of dollars every year by +forest fire. A fire can be stopped easily if it is seen soon after it +starts. But let it burn awhile, in this dry season, and it's a terror—a +wall of flame that races through the forests and can hardly be stopped. +And maybe you don't realize how enormous this region is—literally +hundreds of miles across. We're the last outpost—there are four cabins, +if you can find them, in the first seventy miles back to town. So they +have to put lookouts on the high points, and now they're coming to the +use of aëroplanes so they can keep even a better watch. All summer and +until the rains come in the fall, they have to guard every minute, and +even then sometimes the fires get away from them. And one of the first +things a forester learns, Dan, is to be careful with fire."</p> + +<p>"Is that the way they are started—from the carelessness of campers?"</p> + +<p>"Partly. There's an old rule in the hills: put out every fire before you +leave it. Be careful with the cigar butts, too—even the coals of a +pipe. But of course the lightning starts many fires, and, I regret to +say, hundreds of them are started with matches."</p> + +<p>"But why on earth—"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't make very good sense, does it? Well, one reason is that +certain stockmen think that a burned forest makes good range—that the +undervegetation that springs up when the trees are burned makes good +feed for stock. And you must know, too, that there are two kinds of men +in the mountains. One kind—the real mountain man, such as your +grandfather was—lives just as well, just as clean as the ranchers in +the valley. Some of this kind are trappers or herders. But there's +another class too—the most unbelievably shiftless, ignorant people in +America. They have a few acres to raise crops, and they kill deer for +their hides, and most of all they make their living fighting forest +fires. A fire means work for every hill-billy in the region—often five +or six dollars a day and better food than they're used to. Moreover, +they can loaf on the job, put in claims for extra hours, and make what +to them is a fortune.</p> + +<p>"You'll likely see a few of the breed before—before your visit here is +ended. There's a family of 'em not three miles away—and that's real +neighborly in the mountains—by the name of Cranston. Bert Cranston +traps a little and makes moonshine; you'll probably see plenty of him +before the trip is over. Sometime I'll tell you of a little difficulty +that I had with him once. You needn't worry about him coming to this +house; he's already received his instructions in that matter.</p> + +<p>"But I see I'm getting all tangled up in my traces. Snowbird and a girl +friend from college got jobs this summer as lookouts—all through the +forest service they are hiring women for the work. They are more +vigilant than men, less inclined to take chances, and work cheaper. +These two girls have a cabin near a spring, and they cook their own +food, and are making what is big wages in the mountains. I'm rather +hoping she'll drop over for a few minutes to-night."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord—does she travel over these hills in the darkness?"</p> + +<p>The mountaineer laughed—a delighted sound that came somewhat curiously +from the bearded lips of the stern, dark man. "Dan, I'll swear she's +afraid of nothing that walks the face of the earth—and it isn't because +she hasn't had experiences either. She's a dead shot with a pistol, for +one thing. She's physically strong, and every muscle is hard as nails. +She used to have Shag, too—the best dog in all these mountains. She's a +mountain girl, I tell you; whoever wins her has got to be able to tame +her!" The mountaineer laughed again. "I sent her to school, of course, +but there was only one boy she'd look at—the athletic coach! And it +wasn't his fault that he didn't follow her back to the mountains."</p> + +<p>The call to supper came then, and Dan got his first sight of mountain +food. There were potatoes, newly dug, mountain vegetables that were +crisp and cold, a steak of peculiar shape, and a great bowl of purple +berries to be eaten with sugar and cream. Dan's appetite was not as a +rule particularly good. But evidently the long ride had affected him. He +simply didn't have the moral courage to refuse when the elder Lennox +heaped his plate.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens, I can't eat all that," he said, as it was passed to him. +But the others laughed and told him to take heart.</p> + +<p>He took heart. It was a singular thing, but at that first bite his +sudden confidence in his gustatory ability almost overwhelmed him. All +his life he had avoided meat. His mother had always been convinced that +such a delicate child as he had been could not properly digest it. But +all at once he decided to forego his mother's philosophies for good and +all. There was certainly nothing to be gained by following them any +longer. So he cut himself a bite of the tender steak—fully half as +generous as the bites that Bill was consuming across the table. And its +first flavor simply filled him with delight.</p> + +<p>"What is this meat?" he asked. "I've certainly tasted it before."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet a few dollars that you haven't, if you've lived all your life +in the Middle West," Lennox answered. "Maybe you've got what the +scientists call an inherited memory of it. It's the kind of meat your +grandfather used to live on—venison."</p> + +<p>Both of them had seemed pleased that he liked the venison. And both +seemed boyishly eager to test his reaction to the great, wild +huckleberries that were the dessert of the simple meal. He tried them +with much ceremony.</p> + +<p>Their flavor really surprised him. They had a tang, a fragrance that was +quite unlike anything he had ever tasted, yet which brought a curious +flood of dim, half-understood memories. It seemed to him that always he +had stood on the hillsides, picking these berries as they grew, and +staining his lips with them. But at once he pushed the thoughts out of +his mind, thinking that his imagination was playing tricks upon him. And +soon after this, Lennox led him out of the house for his first glimpse +of the hills in the darkness.</p> + +<p>They walked together out to the gate, across the first of the wide +pastures where, at certain seasons, Lennox kept his cattle; and at last +they came out upon the tree-covered ridge. The moon was just rising. +They could see it casting a curious glint over the very tips of the +pines. But it couldn't get down between them. They stood too close, too +tall and thick for that. And for a moment, Dan's only sensation was one +of silence.</p> + +<p>"You have to stand still a moment, to really know anything," Lennox told +him.</p> + +<p>They both stood still. Dan was as motionless as that day in the park, +long weeks before, when the squirrel had climbed on his shoulder. The +first effect was a sensation that the silence was deepening around them. +It wasn't really true. It was simply that he had become aware of the +little continuous sounds of which usually he was unconscious, and they +tended to accentuate the hush of the night. He heard his watch ticking +in his pocket, the whispered stir of his own breathing, and he was quite +certain that he could hear the fevered beat of his own heart in his +breast. But then slowly he began to become aware of other sounds, so +faint and indistinct that he really could not be sure that he heard +them. There was a faint rustle and stir, as of the tops of the pine +trees far away. Possibly he heard the wind too, the faintest whisper in +the world through the underbrush. And finally, most wonderful of all, he +began to hear one by one, over the ridge on which he stood, little +whispered sounds of living creatures stirring in the thickets. He knew, +just as all mountaineers know, that the wilderness about him was +stirring and pulsing with life. Some of the sounds were quite clear—an +occasional stir of a pebble or the crack of a twig, and some, like the +faintest twitching of leaves in the brush not ten feet distant, could +only be guessed at.</p> + +<p>"What is making the sounds?" he asked.</p> + +<p>He didn't know it, at the time, but Lennox turned quickly toward him. It +wasn't that the question had surprised the mountaineer. Rather it was +the tone in which Dan had spoken. It was perfectly cool, perfectly +self-contained.</p> + +<p>"The one right close is a chipmunk. I don't know what the others are; no +one ever does know. Perhaps ground squirrels, or rabbits, or birds, and +maybe even one of those harmless old black bears who is curious about +the house. The bears have more curiosity than they can well carry +around, and they say they'll sometimes come up and put their front feet +on a window sill of a house, and peer through the window. They must +think men are the craziest things! And of course it might be a +coyote—and a mad one at that. I guess I told you that they're subject +to rabies at this time of year. I'll confess I'd rather have it be +anything else. And tell me—can you <i>smell</i> anything—"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Lennox! I can smell all kinds of things."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad. Some men can't. No one can enjoy the woods if he can't smell. +Part of the smells are of flowers, and part of balsam, and God only +knows what the others are. They are just the wilderness—"</p> + +<p>Dan could not only perceive the smells and sounds, but he felt that they +were leaving an imprint on the very fiber of his soul. He knew one +thing. He knew he could never forget this first introduction to the +mountain night. The whole scene moved him in strange, deep ways in which +he had never been stirred before; it left him exultant and, in deep +wells of his nature far below the usual currents of excitement, a little +excited too. And all the time he had that indefinable sense of +familiarity, a knowledge that this was his own land, and after a long, +long time of wandering in far places, he had come back to it.</p> + +<p>Then both of them were startled out of their reflections by the clear, +unmistakable sound of footsteps on the ridge. Both of them turned, and +Lennox laughed softly in the darkness. "My daughter," he said. "I knew +she wouldn't be afraid to come."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + +<p>Dan could see only Snowbird's outline at first, just her shadow against +the moonlit hillside. His glasses were none too good at long range. And +possibly, when she came within range, the first thing that he noticed +about her was her stride. The girls he knew didn't walk in quite that +free, strong way. She took almost a man-size step; and yet it was +curious that she did not seem ungraceful. Dan had a distinct impression +that she was floating down to him on the moonlight. She seemed to come +with such unutterable smoothness. And then he heard her call lightly +through the darkness.</p> + +<p>The sound gave him a distinct sense of surprise. Some way, he hadn't +associated a voice like this with a mountain girl; he had supposed that +there would be so many harshening influences in this wild place. Yet the +tone was as clear and full as a trained singer's. It was not a high +voice; and yet it seemed simply brimming, as a cup brims with wine, with +the rapture of life. It was a self-confident voice too, wholly +unaffected and sincere, and wholly without embarrassment.</p> + +<p>Then she came close, and Dan saw the moonlight on her face. And so it +came about, whether in dreams or wakefulness, he could see nothing else +for many hours to come.</p> + +<p>Beauty, after all, is wholly a matter of the nearest possible approach +to the physical perfection that many centuries of human faces have +established as a standard. Thus perfection in this case does not mean +some ideal that has been imaged by a poet, but just the nearest approach +to the perfect physical body that nature intended, and which is the +flawless example of the type that composes the race. Thus a typical +feature is the most beautiful, and by this reasoning a composite picture +of all the young girl faces in the Anglo-Saxon nations would be the most +beautiful face that any painter could conceive. It follows that health +is above all the most essential quality to beauty, because disease, from +the nature of things, means thwarted growth that could not possibly +reach the typical of the race.</p> + +<p>The girl who stood in the moonlight had health. She was simply vibrant +with health. It brought a light to her eyes, and a color to her cheeks, +and life and shimmer to her moonlit hair. It brought curves to her +body, and strength and firmness to her limbs, and the grace of a deer to +her carriage. Whether she had regular features or not Dan would have +been unable to state. He didn't even notice. They weren't important when +health was present. Yet there was nothing of the coarse or bold or +voluptuous about her. She was just a slender girl, perhaps twenty years +of age, and weighing even less than the figure occasionally to be read +in the health magazines for girls of her height. And she was fresh and +cool beyond all words to tell.</p> + +<p>And Dan had no delusions about her attitude toward him. For a long +instant she turned her keen, young eyes to his white, thin face; and at +once it became abundantly evident that beyond a few girlish speculations +she felt no interest in him. After a single moment of rather strained, +polite conversation with Dan—just enough to satisfy her idea of the +conventions—she began a thrilling girlhood tale to her father. And she +was still telling it when they reached the house.</p> + +<p>Dan held a chair for her in front of the fireplace, and she took it with +entire naturalness. He was careful to put it where the firelight was at +its height. He wanted to see its effect on the flushed cheeks, the soft +dark hair. And then, standing in the shadows, he simply watched her. +With the eye of an artist he delighted in her gestures, her rippling +enthusiasm, her utter, irrepressible girlishness that all of Time had +not years enough to kill.</p> + +<p>He decided that she had gray eyes. Gray eyes seemed to be characteristic +of the mountain people. Sometimes, when the shadows fell across them, +they looked very dark, as if the pines had been reflected in them all +day and the image had not yet faded out. But in an instant the shadow +flicked away and left only light,—light that danced and light that +laughed and light that went into him and did all manner of things to his +spirit.</p> + +<p>Bill stood watching her, his hands deep in his pockets, evidently a +companion of the best. Her father gazed at her with amused tolerance. +And Dan,—he didn't know in just what way he did look at her. And he +didn't have time to decide. In less than fifteen minutes, and wholly +without warning, she sprang up from her chair and started toward the +door.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" Dan breathed. "If you make such sudden motions as that I'll +have heart failure. Where are you going now?"</p> + +<p>"Back to my watch," she answered, her tone wholly lacking the personal +note which men have learned to expect in the voices of women. And an +instant later the three of them saw her retreating shadow as she +vanished among the pines.</p> + +<p>Dan had to be helped to bed. The long ride had been too hard on his +shattered lungs; and nerves and body collapsed an instant after the door +was closed behind the departing girl. He laughed weakly and begged their +pardon; and the two men were really very gentle. They told him it was +their own fault for permitting him to overdo. Lennox himself blew out +the candle in the big, cold bedroom.</p> + +<p>Dan saw the door close behind him, and he had an instant's glimpse of +the long sweep of moonlit ridge that stretched beneath the window. Then, +all at once, seemingly without warning, it simply blinked out. Not until +the next morning did he really know why. Insomnia was an old +acquaintance of Dan's, and he had expected to have some trouble in +getting to sleep. His only real trouble was waking up again when Lennox +called him to breakfast. He couldn't believe that the light at his +window shade was really that of morning.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens!" his host exploded. "You sleep the sleep of the just."</p> + +<p>Dan was about to tell him that on the contrary he was a very nervous +sleeper, but he thought better of it. Something had surely happened to +his insomnia. The next instant he even forgot to wonder about it in the +realization that his tired body had been wonderfully refreshed. He had +no dread now of the long tramp up the ridge that his host had planned.</p> + +<p>But first came target practice. In Dan's baggage he had a certain very +plain but serviceable sporting rifle of about thirty-forty caliber,—a +gun that the information department of the large sporting-goods store in +Gitcheapolis had recommended for his purpose. Except for the few moments +in the store, Dan had never held a rifle in his hands.</p> + +<p>Of course the actual aiming of a rifle is an extremely simple +proposition. A man with fair use of his hands and eyes can pick it up in +less time than it takes to tell it. The fine art of marksmanship +consists partly in the finer sighting,—the instinctive realization of +just what fraction of the front sight should be visible through the +rear. But most of all it depends on the control that the nerves have +over the muscles. Some men are born rifle shots; and on others it is +quite impossible to thrust any skill whatever.</p> + +<p>The nerve impulses and the muscular reflexes must be exquisitely tuned, +so that the finger presses back on the trigger the identical instant +that the mark is seen on the line of the sights. One quarter of a +second's delay will usually disturb the aim. There must be no muscular +jerk as the trigger is pressed. Shooting was never a sport for blasted +nerves. And usually such attributes as the ability to judge distances, +the speed and direction of a fleeing object, and the velocity of the +wind can only be learned by tireless practice.</p> + +<p>When Dan first took the rifle in his hands, Lennox was rather amazed at +the ease and naturalness with which he held it. It seemed to come up +naturally to his shoulder. Lennox scarcely had to tell him how to rest +the butt and to drop his chin as he aimed. He began to look rather +puzzled. Dan seemed to know all these things by instinct. The first +shot, Dan hit the trunk of a five-foot pine at thirty paces.</p> + +<p>"But I couldn't very well have missed it!" he replied to Lennox's cheer. +"You see, I aimed at the middle—but I just grazed the edge."</p> + +<p>The second shot was not so good, missing the tree altogether. And it was +a singular thing that he aimed longer and tried harder on this shot than +on the first. The third time he tried still harder, and made by far the +worst shot of all.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he demanded. "I'm getting worse all the time."</p> + +<p>Lennox didn't know for sure. But he made a long guess. "It might be +beginner's luck," he said, "but I'm inclined to think you're trying too +hard. Take it easier—depend more on your instincts. Some marksmen are +born good shots and cook themselves trying to follow rules. It might be, +by the longest chance, that you're one of them—at least it won't hurt +to try."</p> + +<p>Dan's reply was to lift the rifle lightly to his shoulder, glance +quickly along the trigger, and fire. The bullet struck within one inch +of the center of the pine.</p> + +<p>For a long second Lennox gazed at him in open-mouthed astonishment. "My +stars, boy!" he cried at last. "Was I mistaken in thinking you were a +born tenderfoot—after all? Can it be that a little of your old +grandfather's skill has been passed down to you? But you can't do it +again."</p> + +<p>But Dan did do it again. If anything, the bullet was a little nearer the +center. And then he aimed at a more distant tree.</p> + +<p>But the hammer snapped down ineffectively on the breech. He turned with +a look of question.</p> + +<p>"Your gun only holds five shots," Lennox explained. Reloading, Dan tried +a more difficult target—a trunk almost one hundred yards distant. Of +course it would have been only child's play to an experienced hunter; +but to a tenderfoot it was the difficult mark indeed. Twice out of four +shots Dan hit the tree trunk, and one of his two hits was practically a +bull's-eye. His two misses were the result of the same mistake he had +made before,—attempting to hold his aim too long.</p> + +<p>The shots rang far through the quiet woods, long-drawn from the echoes +that came rocking back from the hills. In contrast with the deep silence +that is really an eternal part of the mountains, the sound seemed +preternaturally loud. All over the great sweep of canyon, the wild +creatures heard and were startled. One could easily imagine the +Columbian deer, gone to their buckbrush to sleep, springing up and +lifting pointed ears. There is no more graceful action in the whole +animal world than this first, startled spring of a frightened buck. Then +old Woof, feeding in the berry bushes, heard the sound too. Woof has +considerably more understanding than most of the wild inhabitants of the +forest, and maybe that is why he left his banquet and started falling +all over his awkward self in descending the hill. It might be that +Lennox would want to procure his guest a sample of bear steak; and Woof +didn't care to be around to suggest such a thing. At least, that would +be his train of thought according to those naturalists who insist on +ascribing human intelligence to all the forest creatures. But it is true +that Woof had learned to recognize a rifle shot, and he feared it worse +than anything on earth.</p> + +<p>Far away on the ridge top, a pair of wolves sat together with no more +evidence of life than two shadows. One of the most effective +accomplishments a wolf possesses is its ability to freeze into a +motionless thing, so the sharpest eye can scarcely detect him in the +thickets. It is an advantage in hunting, and it is an even greater +advantage when being hunted. Yet at the same second they sprang up, +simply seemed to spin in the dead pine needles, and brought up with +sharp noses pointed and ears erect, facing the valley.</p> + +<p>A human being likely would have wondered at their action. It is doubtful +that human ears could have detected that faint tremor in the air which +was all that was left of the rifle report. But of course this is a +question that would be extremely difficult to prove; for as a rule the +senses of the larger forest creatures, with the great exception of +scent, are not as perfectly developed as those of a human being. A wolf +can see better than a man in the darkness, but not nearly as far in the +daylight. But the wolves knew this sound. Too many times they had seen +their pack-fellows die in the snow when such a report as this, only +intensified a thousand times, cracked at them through the winter air. No +animal in all the forest has been as relentlessly hunted as the wolves, +and they have learned their lessons. For longer years than most men +would care to attempt to count, men have waged a ceaseless war upon +them. And they have learned that their safety lies in flight.</p> + +<p>Very quietly, and quite without panic, the wolves turned and headed +farther into the forests. Possibly no other animal would have been +frightened at such a distance. And it is certainly true that in the +deep, winter snows not even the wolves would have heeded the sound. The +snows bring Famine; and when Famine comes to keep its sentry-duty over +the land, all the other forest laws are immediately forgotten or +ignored. The pack forgets all its knowledge of the deadliness of men in +the starving times.</p> + +<p>The grouse heard the sound, and, silly creatures that they are, even +they raised their heads for a single instant from their food. The +felines—the great, tawny mountain lions and their smaller cousins, the +lynx—all devoted at least an instant of concentrated attention to it. +A raccoon, sleeping in a pine, opened its eyes, and a lone bull elk, +such as some people think is beyond all other things the monarch of the +forest, rubbed his neck against a tree trunk and wondered.</p> + +<p>But yet there remained two of the larger forest creatures that did not +heed at all. One was Urson, the porcupine, whose stupidity is beyond all +measuring. He was too slow and patient and dull to give attention to a +rifle bullet. And the other was Graycoat the coyote, gray and strange +and foam-lipped, on the hillside. Graycoat could hear nothing but +strange whinings and voices that rang ever in his ears. All other sounds +were obscured. The reason was extremely simple. In the dog days a +certain malady sometimes comes to the wild creatures, and it is dreaded +worse than drought or cold or any of the manifold terrors of their +lives. No one knows what name they have for this sickness. Human beings +call it hydrophobia. And the coyotes are particularly susceptible to it.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily the name of coyote is, among the beasts, a synonym for +cowardice as well as a certain kind of detested cunning. All the +cowardice of a mountain lion and a wolf and a lynx put together doesn't +equal the amount that Graycoat carried in the end of his tail. That +doesn't mean timidity. Timidity is a trait of the deer, a gift of nature +for self-preservation, and no one holds it against them. In fact, it +makes them rather appealing. Cowardice is a lack of moral courage to +remain and fight when nature has afforded the necessary weapons to fight +with. It is sort of a betrayal of nature,—a misuse of powers. No one +calls a rabbit a coward because it runs away. A warlike rabbit is +something that no man has ever seen since the beginning of the world, +and probably never will. Nature hasn't given the little animal any +weapons.</p> + +<p>But this is not true of the wolf or cougar. A wolf has ninety pounds of +lightning-quick muscles, and teeth that are nothing but a set of very +well-sharpened and perfectly arranged daggers. A cougar not only has +fangs, but talons that can rend flesh more terribly than the cogs of a +machine, and strength to make the air hum under his paw as he strikes it +down. And so it is an extremely disappointing thing to see either of +these animals flee in terror from an Airedale not half their size,—a +sight that most mountain men see rather often. The fact that they act +with greater courage in the famine times, and that either of them will +fight to the very death when brought to bay, are not extenuating +circumstances to their cowardice. A mouse will bite the hand that picks +it up if it has no other choice.</p> + +<p>A coyote is, at least in a measure, equipped for fighting. He is smaller +than a wolf, and his fangs are almost as terrible. Yet a herd of +determined sheep, turning to face him, puts him in a panic. The smallest +dog simply petrifies him with terror. And a rifle report,—he has been +known to put a large part of a county between himself and the source of +the sound in the shortest possible time. If a mountain man feels like +fighting, he simply calls another a coyote. It is more effective than +impugning the virtue of his female ancestors. To be called a coyote +means to be termed the lowest, most despised creature of which the +imagination can conceive.</p> + +<p>And besides being a perfect, unprincipled coward, he is utterly without +pride. And that is saying a great deal. Most large animals have more +pride than they have intelligence, particularly the bear and the moose. +A mature bear, dying before his foes, will often refrain from howling +even in the greatest agony. He is simply too proud. A moose greatly +dislikes to appear to run away in the presence of enemies. He will walk +with the dignity of a bishop until he thinks the brush has obscured him; +and then he will simply fly! And there was a dog once, long ago, which, +meeting on the highways a dog that was much larger and that could not +possibly be mastered, would simply turn away his eyes and pretend not to +see him.</p> + +<p>A coyote is wholly without this virtue, as well as most of the other +virtues of the animal world. He not only eats carrion—because if one +started to condemn all the carrion-eating animals of the forest he would +soon have precious few of them left—but he also eats old shoes off +rubbish piles. Unlike the wolf, he does not even find his courage in the +famine times. He has cunning, but cunning is not greatly beloved in men +or beasts. Most folk prefer a kindly, blundering awkwardness, a +simplicity of heart and spirit, such as are to be found in Woof the +bear.</p> + +<p>But Graycoat has one tendency that makes all the other forest creatures +regard him with consternation: he is extremely liable to madness. Along +in dog days he is seen suddenly to begin to rush through the thickets, +barking and howling and snapping at invisible enemies, with foam +dropping from his terrible lips. His eyes grow yellow and strange. And +this is the time that even the bull elk turns off his trail. No one +cares to meet Graycoat when the hydrophobia is upon him. At such time +all his cunning and his terror are quite forgotten in his agony, and he +is likely to make an unprovoked charge on Woof himself.</p> + +<p>Now Graycoat came walking stiff-legged down through the thickets. And +the forest creatures, from the smallest to the great, forgot the far-off +peal of the rifle bullets to get out of his way.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p>Dan and Lennox started together up the long slope of the ridge. Dan +alone was armed; Lennox went with him solely as a guide. The deer season +had just opened, and it might be that Dan would want to procure one of +these creatures.</p> + +<p>"But I'm not sure I want to hunt deer," Dan told him. "You speak of them +as being so beautiful—"</p> + +<p>"They are beautiful, and your grandfather would never hunt them either, +except for meat. But maybe you'll change your mind when you see a buck. +Besides, we might run into a lynx or a panther. But not very likely, +without dogs."</p> + +<p>They trudged up, over the carpet of pine needles. They fought their way +through a thicket of buckbrush. Once they saw the gray squirrels in the +tree tops. And before Lennox had as much as supposed they were near the +haunts of big game, a yearling doe sprang up from its bed in the +thickets.</p> + +<p>For an instant she stood motionless, presenting a perfect target. It was +evident that she had heard the sound of the approaching hunters, but had +not as yet located or identified them with her near-sighted eyes. Lennox +whirled to find Dan standing very still, peering along the barrel of his +rifle. But he didn't shoot. A light danced in his eyes, and his fingers +crooked nervously about the trigger, but yet there was no pressure. The +deer, seeing Lennox move, leaped into her terror-pace,—that astounding +run that is one of the fastest gaits in the whole animal world. In the +wink of an eye, she was out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you shoot?" Lennox demanded.</p> + +<p>"Shoot? It was a doe, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, of course it was a doe! But there are no game laws that go +back this far. Besides—you aimed at it."</p> + +<p>"I aimed just to see if I could catch it through my sights. And I could. +My glasses sort of made it blur—but I think—perhaps—that I could have +shot it. But I'm not going to kill does. There must be some reason for +the game laws, or they wouldn't exist."</p> + +<p>"You're a funny one. Come three thousand miles to hunt and then pass up +the first deer you see. You could almost have been your grandfather, to +have done that. He thought killing a deer needlessly was almost as bad +as killing a man. They are beautiful things, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>Dan answered him with startling emphasis. But the look that he wore said +more than his words.</p> + +<p>They trudged on, and Lennox grew thoughtful. He was recalling the +picture that he had seen when he had whirled to look at Dan, immediately +after the deer had leaped from its bed. It puzzled him a little. He had +turned to find the younger man in a perfect posture to shoot, his feet +placed in exactly the position that years of experience had taught +Lennox was correct; and withal, absolutely motionless. Of all the many +things to learn in the wilderness, to stand perfectly still in the +presence of game is one of the hardest. The natural impulse is to +start,—a nervous reflex that usually terrifies the game. The principle +of standing still is, of course, that it takes a certain length of time +for the deer to look about after it makes its first leap from its bed, +and if the hunter is motionless, the deer is usually unable to identify +him as a thing to fear. It gives a better chance for a shot. What many +hunters take years to learn, Dan had seemed to know by instinct. Could +it be, after all, that this slender weakling, even now bowed down with +a terrible malady, had inherited the true frontiersman's instincts of +his ancestors?</p> + +<p>Then all at once Lennox halted in his tracks, evidently with no other +purpose than to study the tall form that now was walking up the trail in +front of him. And he uttered a little exclamation of amazement.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Dan!" he cried suddenly. "Haven't you ever been in the woods +before?"</p> + +<p>Dan turned, smiling. "No. What have I done now?"</p> + +<p>"What have you done! You're doing something that I never saw a +tenderfoot do in my life, before. I've known men to hunt for +years—literally years—and not know how to do it. And that is—to place +your feet."</p> + +<p>"Place my feet? I'm afraid I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"I mean—to walk silently. To stalk, damn it, Dan! This brush is dry. +It's dry as tinder. A cougar can get over it like so much smoke, and a +man who's lived all his life in the hills can usually climb a ridge and +not make any more noise than a young avalanche. Just now I had a feeling +that I wasn't hearing you walk, and I thought my ears must be going back +on me. I stopped to see. You were doing it, Dan. You were +stalking—putting down your feet like a cat. It's the hardest thing to +learn there is, and you're doing it the first half-hour."</p> + +<p>Dan laughed, delighted more than he cared to show. "Well, what of it?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"What of it? That's it—what of it. And what caused it, and all about +it. Go on and let me think."</p> + +<p>The result of all this thought was at least to hover in the near +vicinity of a certain conclusion. That conclusion was that at least a +few of the characteristics of his grandfather had been passed down to +Dan. It meant that possibly, if time remained, he would not turn out +such a weakling, after all. Of course his courage, his nerve, had yet to +be tested; but the fact remained that long generations of frontiersmen +ancestors had left this influence upon him. The wild was calling to him, +wakening instincts long smothered in cities, but sure and true as ever. +It was the beginning of regeneration. Voices of the long past were +speaking to him, and the Failings once more had begun to run true to +form. Inherited tendencies were in a moment changing this weak, diseased +youth into a frontiersman and wilderness inhabitant such as his +ancestors had been before him.</p> + +<p>But before ever Lennox had a chance to think all around the subject, to +actually convince himself that Dan really was a throwback and recurrence +of type, there ensued on that gaunt ridge a curious adventure. The test +of nerve and courage was nearer than either of them had guessed.</p> + +<p>They were slipping along over the pine needles, their eyes intent on the +trail ahead. And then Lennox saw a curious thing. He beheld Dan suddenly +stop in the trail and turn his eyes towards a heavy thicket that lay +perhaps one hundred yards to their right. For an instant he looked +almost like a wild creature himself. His head was lowered, as if he were +listening. His muscles were set and ready.</p> + +<p>Lennox had prided himself that he had retained all the powers of his +five senses, and that few men in the mountains had keener ears than he. +Yet it was truth that at first he only knew the silence, and the stir +and pulse of his own blood. He assumed then that Dan was watching +something that from his position, twenty feet behind, he could not see. +He tried to probe the thickets with his eyes.</p> + +<p>Then Dan whispered. Ever so soft a sound, but yet distinct in the +silence. "There's something living in that thicket."</p> + +<p>Then Lennox heard it too. As they stood still, the sound became ever +clearer and more pronounced. Some living creature was advancing toward +them; and twigs were cracking beneath its feet. The sounds were rather +subdued, and yet, as the animal approached, both of them instinctively +knew that they were extremely loud for the usual footsteps of any of the +wild creatures.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Dan asked quietly.</p> + +<p>Lennox was so intrigued by the sounds that he was not even observant of +the peculiar, subdued quality in Dan's voice. Otherwise, he would have +wondered at it. "I'm free to confess I don't know," he said. "It's +booming right towards us, like most animals don't care to do. Of course +it may be a human being. You must watch out for that."</p> + +<p>They waited. The sound ended. They stood straining for a long moment +without speech.</p> + +<p>"That was the dumdest thing!" Lennox went on. "Of course it might have +been a bear—you never know what they're going to do. It might have got +sight of us and turned off. But I can't believe that it was just a +deer—"</p> + +<p>But then his words chopped squarely off in his throat. The plodding +advance commenced again. And the next instant a gray form revealed +itself at the edge of the thicket.</p> + +<p>It was Graycoat, half-blind with his madness, and desperate in his +agony.</p> + +<p>There was no more deadly thing in all the hills than he. Even the bite +of a rattlesnake would have been welcomed beside his. He stood a long +instant, and all his instincts and reflexes that would have ordinarily +made him flee in abject terror were thwarted and twisted by the fever of +his madness. He stared a moment at the two figures, and his red eyes +could not interpret them. They were simply foes, for it was true that +when this racking agony was upon him, even lifeless trees seemed foes +sometimes. He seemed eerie and unreal as he gazed at them out of his +burning eyes; and the white foam gathered at his fangs. And then, wholly +without warning, he charged down at them.</p> + +<p>He came with unbelievable speed. The elder Lennox cried once in warning +and cursed himself for venturing forth on the ridge without a gun. He +was fully twenty feet distant from Dan; yet he saw in an instant his +only course. This was no time to trust their lives to the marksmanship +of an amateur. He sprang towards Dan, intending to wrench the weapon +from his hand.</p> + +<p>But he didn't achieve his purpose. At the first step his foot caught in +a projecting root, and he was shot to his face on the trail. But a long +life in the wilderness had developed Lennox's reflexes to an abnormal +degree; many crises had taught him muscle and nerve control; and only +for a fraction of an instant, a period of time that few instruments are +fine enough to measure, did he lie supinely upon the ground. He rolled +on, into a position of defense. But he knew now he could not reach the +younger man before the mad coyote would be upon them. The matter was out +of his hands. Everything depended on the aim and self-control of the +tenderfoot.</p> + +<p>And at the same instant he wondered, so intensely that all other mental +processes were subjugated to it, why he had not heard Dan shoot.</p> + +<p>He looked up, and the whole weird picture was thrown upon the retina of +his eyes. The coyote was still racing straight toward Dan, a gray demon +that in his madness was more terrible than any charging bear or elk. For +there is an element of horror about the insane, whether beasts or men, +that cannot be denied. Both men felt it, with a chill that seemed to +penetrate clear to their hearts. The eyes flamed, the white fangs of +Graycoat caught the sunlight. And Dan stood erect in his path, his rifle +half raised to his shoulder; and even in that first frenzied instant in +which Lennox looked at him, he saw there was a strange impassiveness, a +singular imperturbability on his face.</p> + +<p>"Shoot, man!" Lennox shouted. "What are you waiting for?"</p> + +<p>But Dan didn't shoot. His hand whipped to his face, and he snatched off +his thick-lensed glasses. The eyes that were revealed were narrow and +deeply intent. And by now, the frenzied coyote was not fifty feet +distant.</p> + +<p>All that had occurred since the animal charged had possibly taken five +seconds. Sometimes five seconds is just a breath; but as Lennox waited +for Dan to shoot, it seemed like a period wholly without limit. He +wondered if the younger man had fallen into that strange paralysis that +a great terror sometimes imbues. "Shoot!" he screamed again.</p> + +<p>But it is doubtful if Dan even heard his shout. At that instant his gun +slid into place, his head lowered, his eyes seemed to burn along the +glittering barrel. His finger pressed back against the trigger, and the +roar of the report rocked through the summer air.</p> + +<p>The gun was of large caliber; and no living creature could stand against +the furious, shocking power of the great bullet. The lead went straight +home, full through the neck and slanting down through the breast, and +the coyote recoiled as if an irresistible hand had smitten him. It is +doubtful if there was even a muscular quiver after Graycoat struck the +ground, not twenty feet from where Dan stood. And the rifle report +echoed back to find only silence.</p> + +<p>Lennox got up off the ground and moved over toward the dead coyote. He +looked a long time at the gray body. And then he stepped back to where +Dan waited on the trail.</p> + +<p>"I take it all back," he said simply.</p> + +<p>"You take what back?"</p> + +<p>"What I thought about you—that the Failing line had gone to the dogs. +I'll never call you a tenderfoot again."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," Dan answered. He looked rather tired, but was +wholly unshaken. For an instant Lennox looked at his eyes and his steady +hands.</p> + +<p>"But tell me one thing," Lennox asked. "I saw the way you looked down +the barrel. I could see how firm you held the rifle—the way you kept +your head. And that is all like your grandfather. But why, when you had +a repeating rifle, did you wait so long to shoot?"</p> + +<p>"I just had one cartridge in my gun. I fired nine times back at the +trees and only re-loaded once. I didn't think of it until the coyote +charged."</p> + +<p>Lennox's answer was the last thing in the world to be expected. He +opened his straight mouth and uttered a great, boyish yell of joy. His +eyes seemed to light. It is a phenomenon that is ever so much oftener +imagined than really seen; but the sudden, elated sparkle that came in +those gray orbs was past denial. The eyes of the two men met, and Lennox +shook him by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You're not Dan Failing's grandson—you're Dan Failing himself!" he +shouted. "No one but him would have had the self-control to wait till +the game was almost on top of him—no one but him would have kept his +head in a time like this. You're Dan Failing himself, I tell you, come +back to earth. Grandson nothing! You're a throwback, and now you've got +those glasses off, I can see his eyes looking right out of yours. Step +on 'em, Dan. You'll never need 'em again. And give up that idea of dying +in four months right now; I'm going to make you live. We'll fight that +disease to a finish—and win!"</p> + +<p>And that is the way that Dan Failing came into his heritage in the land +of his own people, and in which a new spirit was born in him to +fight—and win—and live.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_TWO" id="BOOK_TWO"></a>BOOK TWO</h2> + +<h3>THE DEBT</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IB" id="IB"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>September was at its last days on the Umpqua Divide,—that far +wilderness of endless, tree-clad ridges where Dan Failing had gone for +his last days. September, in this place, was a season all by itself. It +wasn't exactly summer, because already a little silver sheath of ice +formed on the lakes in the morning; and the days were clamping down in +length so fast that Whisperfoot the cougar had time for a dozen killings +in a single night. Fall only begins when the rains start; and there +hadn't been a trickle of rain since April. It was rather a cross between +the two seasons,—the rag-tail of summer and the prelude of fall.</p> + +<p>It was true that the leaves were shedding from the underbrush. They came +yellow and they came red, and the north wind, always the first breath of +winter, blew them in all directions. They made a perfect background for +the tawny tints of Whisperfoot, and quite often the near-sighted deer +would walk right up to him without detecting him. But the cougar always +saw to it they didn't do it a second time. It had been a particularly +bad season for Whisperfoot, and he was glad that his luck had changed. +The woods were so dry from the long drought that even he—and as all men +know, he is one of the most silent creatures in the wilderness when he +wants to be, which are the times that he doesn't want to make as much +noise as a steam engine—found it hard to crawl down a deer trail +without being heard. The twigs would sometimes crack beneath his feet, +and this is a disgrace with any cougar. Their first lessons are to learn +to walk with silence.</p> + +<p>Woof the bear loved this month above all others. It wasn't that he +needed protective coloring. He was not a hunter at all, except of grubs +and berries and such small fry. He had a black coat and a clumsy stride; +and he couldn't have caught a deer if his life had depended upon it. But +he did like to shuffle through the fallen leaves and make beds of them +in the warm afternoons; and besides, the berries were always biggest and +ripest in September. The bee trees were almost full of honey. Even the +fat beetles under the stumps were many and lazy.</p> + +<p>Everywhere the forest people were preparing for the winter that would +fall so quickly when these golden September days were done. The Under +Plane of the forest—those smaller peoples that live in the dust and +have beautiful, tropical forests in the ferns—found themselves digging +holes and filling them with stores of food. Of course they had no idea +on earth why they were doing it, except that a quiver at the end of +their tails told them to do so; but the result was entirely the same. +They would have a shelter for the winter. Certain of the birds were +beginning to wonder what the land was like to the south, and now and +then waking up in the crisp dawns with decided longings for travel. The +young mallards on the lakes were particularly restless, and occasionally +a long flock of them would rise in the morning from the blue waters with +a glint of wings,—and quite fail to come back. And one night all the +forest listened to the wail of the first flock of south-going geese. But +the main army of waterfowl would of course not pass until fall came in +reality.</p> + +<p>But the most noticeable change of all, in these last days of summer, was +a distinct tone of sadness that sounded throughout the forest. Of course +the wilderness note is always somewhat sad; but now, as the leaves fell +and the grasses died, it seemed particularly pronounced. All the forest +voices added to it,—the wail of the geese, the sad fluttering of +fallen leaves, and even the whisper of the north wind. The pines seemed +darker, and now and then gray clouds gathered, promised rain, but passed +without dropping their burdens on the parched hillsides. Of course all +the tones and voices of the wilderness sound clearest at night—for that +is the time that the forest really comes to life—and Dan Failing, +sitting in front of Lennox's house, watching the late September moon +rise over Bald Mountain, could hear them very plainly.</p> + +<p>It was true that in the two months he had spent in the mountains he had +learned to be very receptive to the voices of the wilderness. Lennox had +not been mistaken in thinking him a natural woodsman. He had imagination +and insight and sympathy; but most of all he had a heritage of wood lore +from his frontiersmen ancestors. Two months before he had been a +resident of cities. Now the wilderness had claimed him, body and soul.</p> + +<p>These had been rare days. At first he had to limit his expeditions to a +few miles each day, and even then he would come in at night staggering +from weariness. He climbed hills that seemed to tear his diseased lungs +to shreds. Lennox wouldn't have been afraid, in a crisis, to trust his +marksmanship now. He had the natural cold nerve of a marksman, and one +twilight he brought the body of a lynx tumbling through the branches of +a pine at a distance of two hundred yards. A shotgun is never a +mountaineer's weapon—except a sawed-off specimen for family +contingencies—yet Dan acquired a certain measure of skill at small game +hunting, too. He got so he could shatter a grouse out of the air in the +half of a second or so in which its bronze wings glinted in the +shrubbery; and when a man may do this a fair number of times out of ten, +he is on the straight road toward greatness.</p> + +<p>Then there came a day when Dan caught his first steelhead in the North +Fork. There was no finer sport in the whole West than this,—the play of +the fly, the strike, the electric jar that carries along the line and +through the arm and into the soul from where it is never quite effaced, +and finally the furious strife and exultant throb when the fish is +hooked. There is no more beautiful thing in the wilderness world than a +steelhead trout in action. He simply seems to dance on the surface of +the water, leaping again and again, and racing at an unheard-of speed +down the ripples. He weighs only from three to fifteen pounds. But now +and again amateur fishermen without souls have tried to pull him in with +main strength, and are still somewhat dazed by the result. It might be +done with a steel cable, but an ordinary line or leader breaks like a +cobweb. When his majesty the steelhead takes the fly and decides to run, +it can be learned after a time that the one thing that may be done is to +let out all the line and with prayer and humbleness try to keep up with +him.</p> + +<p>Dan fished for lake trout in the lakes of the plateau; he shot waterfowl +in the tule marshes; he hunted all manner of living things with his +camera. But most of all he simply studied, as his frontiersmen ancestors +had done before him. He found unceasing delight in the sagacity of the +bear, the grace of the felines, the beauty of the deer. He knew the +chipmunks and the gray squirrels and the snowshoe rabbits. And every day +his muscles had hardened and his gaunt frame had filled out.</p> + +<p>He no longer wore his glasses. Every day his eyes had strengthened. He +could see more clearly now, with his unaided eyes, than he had ever seen +before with the help of the lens. And the moonlight came down through a +rift in the trees and showed that his face had changed too. It was no +longer so white. The eyes were more intent. The lips were straighter.</p> + +<p>"It's been two months," Silas Lennox told him, "half the four that you +gave yourself after you arrived here. And you're twice as good now as +when you came."</p> + +<p>Dan nodded. "Twice! Ten times as good! I was a wreck when I came. To-day +I climbed halfway up Baldy—within a half mile of Snowbird's +cabin—without stopping to rest."</p> + +<p>Lennox looked thoughtful. More than once, of late, Dan had climbed up +toward Snowbird's cabin. It was true that his guest and his daughter had +become the best of companions in the two months; but on second thought, +Lennox was not in the least afraid of complications. The love of the +mountain women does not go out to physical inferiors. "Whoever gets +her," he had said, "will have to tame her," and his words still held +good. The mountain women rarely mistook a maternal tenderness for an +appealing man for love. It wasn't that Dan was weak except from the +ravages of his disease; but he was still a long way from Snowbird's +ideal.</p> + +<p>And the explanation was simply that life in the mountains gets down to a +primitive basis, and its laws are the laws of the cave. Emotions are +simple and direct, dangers are real, and the family relations have +remained unchanged since the first days of the race. Men do not woo one +another's wives in the mountains. There is no softness, no compromise: +the male of the species provides, and the female keeps the hut. It is +good, the mountain women know, when the snows come, to have a strong arm +to lean upon. The man of strong muscles, of quick aim, of cool nerve in +a crisis is the man that can be safely counted on not to leave a +youthful widow to a lone battle for existence. Although Dan had courage +and that same rigid self-control that was an old quality in his breed, +he was still a long way from a physically strong man. It was still an +even break whether he would ever wholly recover from his malady.</p> + +<p>But Dan was not thinking about this now. All his perceptions had +sharpened down to the finest focal point, and he was trying to catch the +spirit of the endless forest that stretched in front of the house. The +moon was above the pines at last, and its light was a magic. He sat +breathless, his eyes intent on the silvery patches between the trees. +Now and then he saw a shadow waver.</p> + +<p>His pipe had gone out, and for a long time Lennox hadn't spoken. He +seemed to be straining too, with ineffective senses, trying to recognize +and name the faint sounds that came so tingling and tremulous out of the +darkness. As always, they heard the stir and rustle of the gnawing +people: the chipmunks in the shrubbery, the gophers who, like blind +misers, had ventured forth from their dark burrows; and perhaps even the +scaly glide of those most-dreaded poison people that had lairs in the +rock piles.</p> + +<p>Then, more distinct still, they heard the far-off yowl of a cougar. Yet +it wasn't quite like the cougar utterances that Dan had heard on +previous nights. It was not so high, so piercing and triumphant; but had +rather an angry, snarling tone made up of <i>ows</i> and broad, nasal <i>yahs</i>. +It came tingling up through hundreds of yards of still forest; and both +of them leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"Another deer killed," Dan suggested softly.</p> + +<p>"No. Not this time. He missed, and he's mad about it. They often snarl +that way when they miss their stroke, just like an angry cat. But +listen—"</p> + +<p>Again they heard a sound, and from some far-lying ridge, they heard a +curious echo. So far it had come that only a tremor of it remained; yet +every accent and intonation was perfect, and Dan was dimly reminded of +some work of art cunningly wrought in miniature. In one quality alone it +resembled the cougar's cry. It was unquestionably a wilderness +voice,—no sound made by men or the instruments of men; and like the +cougar's cry, it was simply imbued with the barbaric spirit of the wild. +But while the cougar had simply yowled in disappointment, a sound wholly +without rhythm or harmony, this sound was after the manner of a song, +rising and falling unutterably wild and strange.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIB" id="IIB"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>Dan felt that at last the wilderness itself was speaking to him. He had +waited a long time to hear its voice. His thought went back to the wise +men of the ancient world, waiting to hear the riddle of the universe +from the lips of the Sphinx, and how he himself—more in his unconscious +self, rather than conscious—had sought the eternal riddle of the +wilderness. It had seemed to him that if once he could make it speak, if +he could make it break for one instant its great, brooding silence, that +the whole mystery and meaning of life would be in a measure revealed. He +had asked questions—never in the form of words but only ineffable +yearnings of his soul—and at last it had responded. The strange rising +and falling song was its own voice, the articulation of the very heart +and soul of the wilderness.</p> + +<p>And because it was, it was also the song of life itself,—life in the +raw, life as it is when all the superficialities that blunt the vision +had been struck away. Dan had known that it would be thus. It brought +strange pictures to his mind. He saw the winter snows, the spirits of +Cold and Famine walking over them. He saw Fear in many guises—in the +forest fire, in the landslide, in the lightning cleaving the sky. In the +song were centered and made clear all the many lesser voices with which +the forest had spoken to him these two months and which he had but dimly +understood,—the passion, the exultation, the blood-lust, the strength, +the cruelty, the remorseless, unceasing struggle for existence that +makes the wilderness an eternal battle ground. But over it all was +sadness. He couldn't doubt that. He heard it all too plainly. The wild +was revealed to him as it never had been before.</p> + +<p>"It's the wolf pack," Lennox told him softly. "As long as I have been in +the mountains, it always hits me the same. The wolves have just joined +together for the fall rutting. There's not another song like it in the +whole world."</p> + +<p>Dan could readily believe it. The two men sat still a long time, hoping +that they might hear the song again. And then they got up and moved +across the cleared field to the ridge beyond. The silence closed deeper +around them.</p> + +<p>"Then it means the end of the summer?" Dan asked.</p> + +<p>"In a way, but yet we don't count the summer ended until the rains +break. Heavens, I wish they would start! I've never seen the hills so +dry, and I'm afraid that either Bert Cranston or some of his friends +will decide it's time to make a little money fighting forest fires. Dan, +I'm suspicious of that gang. I believe they've got a regular arson ring, +maybe with unscrupulous stockmen behind them, and perhaps just a +penny-winning deal of their own. I suppose you know about Landy +Hildreth,—how he's promised to turn State's evidence that will send +about a dozen of these vipers to the penitentiary?"</p> + +<p>"Snowbird told me something about it."</p> + +<p>"He's got a cabin over toward the marshes, and it has come to me that +he's going to start to-morrow, or maybe has already started to-day, down +into the valley to give his evidence. Of course, that is deeply +confidential between you and me. If the gang knew about it, he'd never +get through the thickets alive."</p> + +<p>But Dan was hardly listening. His attention was caught by the hushed, +intermittent sounds that are always to be heard, if one listens keenly +enough, in the wilderness at night. "I wish the pack would sound again," +he said. "I suppose it was hunting."</p> + +<p>"Of course. And there is no living thing in these woods that can stand +against a wolf pack in its full strength."</p> + +<p>"Except man, of course."</p> + +<p>"A strong man, with an accurate rifle, of course, and except possibly in +the starving times in winter he'd never have to fight them. All the +beasts of prey are out to-night. You see, Dan, when the moon shines, the +deer feed at night instead of in the twilights and the dawn. And of +course the wolves and the cougars hunt the deer. It may be that they are +running cattle, or even sheep."</p> + +<p>But Dan's imagination was afire. He wasn't content yet. "They couldn't +be—hunting man?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No. If it was midwinter and the pack was starving, we'd have to listen +better. It always looked to me as if the wild creatures had a law +against killing men, just as humans have. They've learned it doesn't +pay—something the wolves and bear of Europe and Asia haven't found out. +The naturalists say that the reason is rather simple—that the European +peasant, his soul scared out of him by the government he lived under, +has always fled from wild beasts. They were tillers of the soil, and +they carried hoes instead of guns. They never put the fear of God into +the animals and as a result there are quite a number of true stories +about tigers and wolves that aren't pleasant to listen to. But our own +frontiersmen were not men to stand any nonsense from wolves or cougars. +They had guns, and they knew how to use them. And they were preceded by +as brave and as warlike a race as ever lived on the earth—armed with +bows and arrows. Any animal that hunted men was immediately killed, and +the rest found out it didn't pay."</p> + +<p>"Just as human beings have found out the same thing—that it doesn't pay +to hunt their fellow men. The laws of life as well as the laws of +nations are against it."</p> + +<p>But the words sounded weak and dim under the weight of the throbbing +darkness; and Dan couldn't get away from the idea that the codes of life +by which most men lived were forgotten quickly in the shadows of the +pines. Even as he spoke, man was hunting man on the distant ridge where +Whisperfoot had howled.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Bert Cranston, head of the arson ring that operated on the Umpqua +Divide, was not only beyond the pale in regard to the laws of the +valleys, but he could have learned valuable lessons from the beasts in +regard to keeping the laws of the hills. The forest creatures do not +hunt their own species, nor do they normally hunt men. The moon looked +down to find Bert Cranston waiting on a certain trail that wound down to +the settlements, his rifle loaded and ready for another kind of game +than deer or wolf. He was waiting for Landy Hildreth; and the greeting +he had for him was to destroy all chances of the prosecuting attorney in +the valley below learning certain names that he particularly wanted to +know.</p> + +<p>There is always a quality of unreality about a moonlit scene. Just what +causes it isn't easy to explain, unless the soft blend of light and +shadow entirely destroys the perspective. Old ruins will sometimes seem +like great, misty ghosts of long-dead cities; trees will turn to silver; +phantoms will gather in family groups under the cliffs; plain hills and +valleys will become, in an instant, the misty vales of Fairyland. The +scene on that distant ridge of the Divide partook of this quality to an +astounding degree; and it would have made a picture no mortal memory +could have possibly forgotten.</p> + +<p>There was no breath of wind. The great pines, tall and dark past belief, +stood absolutely motionless, like strange pillars of ebony. The whole +ridge was splotched with patches of moonlight, and the trail, dimming as +the eyes followed it, wound away into the utter darkness. Bert Cranston +knelt in a brush covert, his rifle loaded and ready in his lean, dark +hands.</p> + +<p>No wolf that ran the ridges, no cougar that waited on the deer trails +knew a wilder passion, a more terrible blood-lust than he. It showed in +his eyes, narrow and never resting from their watch of the trail; it was +in his posture; and it revealed itself unmistakably in the curl of his +lips. Something like hot steam was in his brain, blurring his sight and +heating his blood.</p> + +<p>The pine needles hung wholly motionless above his head; but yet the dead +leaves on which he knelt crinkled and rustled under him. Only the +keenest ear could have heard the sound; and possibly in his madness, +Cranston himself was not aware of it. And one would have wondered a long +time as to what caused it. It was simply that he was shivering all over +with hate and fury.</p> + +<p>A twig cracked, far on the ridge above him. He leaned forward, peering, +and the moonlight showed his face in unsparing detail. It revealed the +deep lines, the terrible, drawn lips, the ugly hair long over the dark +ears. His strong hands tightened upon the breech of the rifle. His wiry +figure grew tense.</p> + +<p>Of course it wouldn't do to let his prey come too close. Landy Hildreth +was a good shot too, young as Cranston, and of equal strength; and no +sporting chance could be taken in this hunting. Cranston had no +intention of giving his enemy even the slightest chance to defend +himself. If Hildreth got down into the valley, his testimony would make +short work of the arson ring. He had the goods; he had been a member of +the disreputable crowd himself.</p> + +<p>The man's steps were quite distinct by now. Cranston heard him fighting +his way through the brush thickets, and once a flock of grouse, +frightened from their perches by the approaching figure, flew down the +trail in front. Cranston pressed back the hammer of his rifle. The click +sounded loud in the silence. He had grown tense and still, and the +leaves no longer rustled.</p> + +<p>His eyes were intent on a little clearing, possibly one hundred yards up +the trail. The trail itself went straight through it. And in an instant +more, Hildreth pushed through the buckbrush and stood revealed in the +moonlight.</p> + +<p>If there is one quality that means success in the mountains it is +constant, unceasing self-control. Cranston thought that he had it. He +had known the hard schools of the hills; and he thought no circumstance +could break the rigid discipline in which his mind and nerves held his +muscles. But perhaps he had waited too long for Hildreth to come; and +the strain had told on him. He had sworn to take no false steps; that +every motion he made should be cool and sure. He didn't want to attract +Hildreth's attention by any sudden movement. All must be cautious and +stealthy. But in spite of all these good resolutions, Cranston's gun +simply leaped to his shoulder in one convulsive motion at the first +glimpse of his enemy as he emerged into the moonlight.</p> + +<p>The end of the barrel struck a branch of the shrubbery as it went up. It +was only a soft sound; but in the utter silence it traveled far. But a +noise in the brush might not have been enough in itself to alarm +Hildreth. A deer springing up in the trail, or even a lesser creature, +might make as pronounced a sound. It was true that even unaccompanied by +any other suspicious circumstances, the man would have become instantly +alert and watchful; but it was extremely doubtful that his muscular +reaction would have been the same. But the gun barrel caught the +moonlight as it leaped, and Hildreth saw its glint in the darkness.</p> + +<p>It was only a flash. But yet there is no other object in the material +world that glints exactly like a gun barrel in the light. It has a look +all its own. It is even more distinctive in the sunlight, and now and +again men have owed their lives to a momentary glitter across a +half-mile of forest. Of course the ordinary, peaceful, God-fearing man, +walking down a trail at night, likely would not have given the gleam +more than an instant's thought, a momentary breathlessness in which the +throat closes and the muscles set; and it is more than probable that the +sleeping senses would not have interpreted it at all. But Hildreth was +looking for trouble. He had dreaded this long walk to the settlements +more than any experience of his life. He didn't know why the letter he +had written, asking for an armed escort down to the courts, had not +brought results. But it was wholly possible that Cranston would have +answered this question for him. This same letter had fallen into a +certain soiled, deadly pair of hands which was the last place in the +world that Hildreth would have chosen, and it had been all the evidence +that was needed, at the meeting of the ring the night before, to adjudge +Hildreth a merciless and immediate end. Hildreth would have preferred to +wait in the hills and possibly to write another letter, but a chill that +kept growing at his finger tips forbade it. And all these things +combined to stretch his nerves almost to the breaking point as he stole +along the moonlit trail under the pines.</p> + +<p>A moment before the rush and whir of the grouse flock had dried the +roof of his mouth with terror. The tall trees appalled him, the shadows +fell upon his spirit. And when he heard this final sound, when he saw +the glint that might so easily have been a gun-barrel, his nerves and +muscles reacted at once. Not even a fraction of a second intervened. His +gun flashed up, just as a small-game shooter hurls his weapon when a +mallard glints above the decoys, and a little, angry cylinder of flame +darted, as a snake's head darts, from the muzzle.</p> + +<p>Hildreth didn't take aim. There wasn't time. The report roared in the +darkness; the bullet sang harmlessly and thudded into the earth; and +both of them were the last things in the world that Cranston had +expected. And they were not a moment too soon. Even at that instant, his +finger was closing down upon the trigger, Hildreth standing clear and +revealed through the sights. The nervous response that few men in the +world would be self-disciplined enough to prevent occurred at the same +instant that he pressed the trigger. His own fire answered, so near to +the other that both of them sounded as one report.</p> + +<p>Most hunters can usually tell, even if they cannot see their game fall, +whether they have hit or missed. This was one of the few times in his +life that Cranston could not have told. He knew that as his finger +pressed he had held as accurate a "bead" as at any time in his life. He +did not know still another circumstance,—that in the moonlight he had +overestimated the distance to the clearing, and instead of one hundreds +yards it was scarcely fifty. He had held rather high. And he looked up, +unknowing whether he had succeeded or whether he was face to face with +the prospect of a duel to the death in the darkness.</p> + +<p>And all he saw was Hildreth, rocking back and forth in the moonlight,—a +strange picture that he was never entirely to forget. It was a motion +that no man could pretend. And he knew he had not missed.</p> + +<p>He waited till he saw the form of his enemy rock down, face half-buried +in the pine needles. It never even occurred to him to approach to see if +he had made a clean kill. He had held on the breast and he had a world +of confidence in his great, shocking, big-game rifle. Besides, the rifle +fire might attract some hunter in the hills; and there would be time in +the morning to return to the body and make certain little investigations +that he had in mind. And running back down the trail, he missed the +sight of Hildreth dragging his wounded body, like an injured hare, into +the shelter of the thickets.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIIB" id="IIIB"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>Whisperfoot, that great coward, came out of his brush-covert when the +moon rose. It was not his usual rising time. Ordinarily he found his +best hunting in the eerie light of the twilight hour; but for certain +reasons, his knowledge of which would be extremely difficult to explain, +he let this time go by in slumber. The general verdict of mankind has +decreed that animals cannot reason. Therefore it is somewhat awkward to +explain how Whisperfoot knew that he needn't be in a hurry, that the +moon would soon be up, and the deer would be feeding in their light. But +know all these things he did, act upon them he also did, and it all came +to the same in the end. Whether or not he could reason didn't affect the +fact that a certain chipmunk, standing at the threshold of his house to +glimpse the moonlit forest, saw him come slipping like a cloud of brown +smoke from his lair a full hour after the little creature had every +right to think that he had gone to his hunting,—and straightway tumbled +back into his house with a near attack of heart failure.</p> + +<p>But the truth was that the chipmunk was presuming upon his own +desirability as food. His fear really wasn't justified. It would not be +altogether true to say that Whisperfoot never ate chipmunks. Sometimes +in winter, and sometimes in the dawns after an unsuccessful hunt, he ate +things a great deal smaller and many times more disagreeable than +chipmunks. But the great cat is always very proud when he first leaves +his lair. He won't look at anything smaller than a horned buck. He is a +great deal like a human hunter who will pass up a lone teal on the way +out and slay a pair of his own live-duck decoys on the way back.</p> + +<p>Whisperfoot had slept almost since dawn. It is a significant quality in +the felines that they simply cannot keep in condition without hours and +hours of sleep. It is true that they are highly nervous creatures, +sensualists of the worst, and living intensely from twilight to dawn; +and they burn up more nervous energy in a night than Urson, the +porcupine, does in a year. In this matter of sleeping, they are in a +direct contrast to the wolves, who seemingly never sleep at all, unless +it is with one eye open, and in still greater contrast to the king of +all beasts, the elephant, who is said to slumber less per night than +that great electrical wizard whom all men know and praise.</p> + +<p>The great cat came out yawning, as graceful a thing as treads upon the +earth. He was almost nine feet long from the tip of his nose to the end +of his tail, and he weighed as much as many a full-grown man. And he +fairly rippled when he walked, seemingly without effort, almost without +resting his cushions on the ground. He stood and yawned insolently, for +all the forest world to see. He rather hoped that the chipmunk, staring +with beady eyes from his doorway, did see him. He would just as soon +that Woof's little son, the bear cub, should see him too. But he wasn't +so particular about Woof himself, or the wolf pack whose song had just +wakened him. And above all things, he wanted to keep out of the sight of +men.</p> + +<p>For when all things are said and done, there were few bigger cowards in +the whole wilderness world than Whisperfoot. A good many people think +that Graycoat the coyote could take lessons from him in this respect. +But others, knowing how a hunter is brought in occasionally with almost +all human resemblance gone from him because a cougar charged in his +death agony, think this is unfair to the larger animal. And it is true +that a full-grown cougar will sometimes attack horned cattle, something +that no American animal cares to do unless he wants a good fight on his +paws and of which the very thought would throw Graycoat into a spasm; +and there have been even stranger stories, if one could quite believe +them. A certain measure of respect must be extended to any animal that +will hunt the great bull elk, for to miss the stroke and get caught +beneath the churning, lashing, slashing, razor-edged front hoofs is +simply death, painful and without delay. But the difficulty lies in the +fact that these things are not done in the ordinary, rational blood of +hunting. What an animal does in its death agony, or to protect its +young, what great game it follows in the starving times of winter, can +be put to neither its debit nor its credit. A coyote will charge when +mad. A raccoon will put up a wicked fight when cornered. A hen will peck +at the hand that robs her nest. When hunting was fairly good, +Whisperfoot avoided the elk and steer almost as punctiliously as he +avoided men, which is saying very much indeed; and any kind of terrier +could usually drive him straight up a tree.</p> + +<p>But he did like to pretend to be very great and terrible among the +smaller forest creatures. And he was Fear itself to the deer. A human +hunter who would kill two deer a week for fifty-two weeks would be +called a much uglier name than poacher; but yet this had been +Whisperfoot's record, on and off, ever since his second year. Many a +great buck wore the scar of the full stroke,—after which Whisperfoot +had lost his hold. Many a fawn had crouched panting with terror in the +thickets at just a tawny light on the gnarled limb of a pine. Many a doe +would grow great-eyed and terrified at just his strange, pungent smell +on the wind.</p> + +<p>He yawned again, and his fangs looked white and abnormally large in the +moonlight. His great, green eyes were still clouded and languorous from +sleep. Then he began to steal up the ridge toward his hunting grounds. +Dry as the thickets were, still he seemed to traverse them with almost +absolute silence. It was a curious thing that he walked straight in the +face of the soft wind that came down from the snow fields, and yet there +wasn't a weathercock to be seen anywhere. And neither had the chipmunk +seen him wet a paw and hold it up, after the approved fashion of holding +up a finger. He had a better way of knowing,—a chill at the end of his +whiskers.</p> + +<p>In fact, the other forest creatures did not see him at all. He took very +great precautions that they shouldn't. Whisperfoot was not a +long-distance runner, and his whole success depended on a surprise +attack, either by stalking or from ambush. In this he is different from +his fellow cowards, the wolves. Whisperfoot catches his meat fresh, +before terror has time to steal out of the heart and poison it; and +thus, he tells his cubs, he is a higher creature than the wolves. He +kept to the deepest shadow, sometimes the long, strange profile of a +pine, sometimes just the thickets of buckbrush.</p> + +<p>And by now, he no longer cared to yawn. He was wide awake. The sleep had +gone out of his eyes and left them swimming in a curious, blue-green +fire. And the hunting madness was getting to him: that wild, exultant +fever that comes fresh to all the hunting creatures as soon as the night +comes down.</p> + +<p>The little, breathless night sounds in the brush around him seemed to +madden him. They made a song to him, a strange, wild melody that even +such frontiersmen as Dan and Lennox could not experience. A thousand +smells brushed down to him on the wind, more potent than any wine or +lust. He began to tremble all over with rapture and excitement. But +unlike Cranston's trembling, no wilderness ear was keen enough to hear +the leaves rustling beneath him.</p> + +<p>His excitement did not affect his hunting skill at all. In fact, he +couldn't succeed without it. A human hunter, with the same excitement +and fever, would have been rendered impotent long since. His aim would +be shattered, he would make false steps to frighten the game, and not +even Urson, the porcupine, would really have cause to fear him. The +reason is rather simple. Man has lived a civilized existence for so long +that many of the traits that make him a successful hunter have to be +laboriously re-learned. As soon as he becomes excited, he forgets his +training. The hunting cunning of a cougar, however, is inborn, and like +a great pianist, he can usually do better when he is warmed up to his +work.</p> + +<p>Men would cross many seas for a few minutes of such wild, nerve-tingling +rapture as Whisperfoot knew as he crept into his hunting grounds. Ever +he went more cautiously, his tawny body lowering. And just as he reached +the ridge top he heard his first game.</p> + +<p>It was just a rustle in the thickets at one side. Whisperfoot stopped +dead still, then slowly lowered his body. The only motion left was the +sinuous whipping of his tail. But he couldn't identify his game yet. He +peered with fiery eyes into the darkness. He was almost in leaping range +already.</p> + +<p>But at once he knew that the creature that grunted and stirred in the +brush was not a deer. A deer would have detected his presence long +since, as the animal was at one side of him, instead of in front, and +would have caught his scent. Then, the wind blowing straighter, he +recognized the creature. It was just old Urson, the porcupine.</p> + +<p>For very good reasons, Whisperfoot never attacked Urson except in +moments of utmost need. It was extremely doubtful that he spared him for +the same reason that he was spared by the wisest of the +mountaineers,—that he was game to be taken when starving and when no +other could be procured. It was rather that he was very awkward to kill +and considerably worse to eat.</p> + +<p>It is better to dine on nightshade, says a forest law, than to eat a +porcupine; for the former innocent-looking little berry is almost as +fast a death as a rifle bullet, and the flesh of the latter animal will +torture with a hundred red-hot fires in the vitals before its eater is +driven to its eternal lair. But it isn't that the porcupine's flesh is +poison. It is just that an incautious bite on its armored body will fill +the throat and mouth with spines, needle points that work ever deeper +until they result in death. And so it is quite a tribute to +Whisperfoot's intelligence that he had killed and devoured no less than +a dozen porcupines and still lived to tell the tale.</p> + +<p>He simply knew how to handle them. He knew an upward scoop with the end +of his claws that would tip the creature over; and then he would pounce +on the unprotected abdomen. But it was considerable trouble, and he had +to be careful of the spines all the time he was eating,—a particular +annoyance to one who habitually and savagely bolts his food. So he made +a careful detour about Urson and continued on his way. He heard the +latter squealing and rattling his quills behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IVB" id="IVB"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p>Shortly after nine o'clock, Whisperfoot encountered his first herd of +deer. But they caught his scent and scattered before he could get up to +them. He met Woof, grunting through the underbrush, and again he +punctiliously, but with wretched spirit, left the trail. A fight with +Woof the bear was one of the most unpleasant experiences that could be +imagined. He had a pair of strong arms of which one embrace of a +cougar's body meant death in one long shriek of pain. Of course they +didn't fight often. They had entirely opposite interests. The bear was a +berry-eater and a honey-grubber, and the cougar cared too much for his +own life and beauty to tackle Woof in a hunting way.</p> + +<p>A fawn leaped from the thicket in front of him, startled by his sound in +the thicket. The truth was, Whisperfoot had made a wholly unjustified +misstep on a dry twig, just at the crucial moment. Perhaps it was the +fault of Woof, whose presence had driven Whisperfoot from the trail, +and perhaps because old age and stiffness was coming upon him. But +neither of these facts appeased his anger. He could scarcely suppress a +snarl of fury and disappointment.</p> + +<p>He continued along the ridge, still stealing, still alert, but his anger +increasing with every moment. The fact that he had to leave the trail +again to permit still another animal to pass, and a particularly +insignificant one too, didn't make him feel any better. This animal had +a number of curious stripes along his back, and usually did nothing more +desperate than steal eggs and eat bird fledglings. Whisperfoot could +have crushed him with one bite, but this was one thing that the great +cat, as long as he lived, would never try to do. He got out of the way +politely when Stripe-back was still a quarter of a mile away; which was +quite a compliment to the little animal's ability to introduce himself. +Stripe-back was familiarly known as a skunk.</p> + +<p>Shortly after ten, the mountain lion had a remarkably fine chance at a +buck. The direction of the wind, the trees, the thickets and the light +were all in his favor. It was old Blacktail, wallowing in the salt lick; +and Whisperfoot's heart bounded when he detected him. No human hunter +could have laid his plans with greater care. He had to cut up the side +of the ridge, mindful of the wind. Then there was a long dense thicket +in which he might approach within fifty feet of the lick, still with the +wind in his face. Just beside the lick was another deep thicket, from +which he could make his leap.</p> + +<p>Blacktail was wholly unsuspecting. No creature in the Oregon woods was +more beautiful than he. He had a noble spread of antlers, limbs that +were wings, and a body that was grace itself. He was a timid creature, +but he did not even dream of the tawny Danger that this instant was +creeping through the thickets upon him.</p> + +<p>Whisperfoot drew near, with infinite caution. He made a perfect stalk +clear to the end of the buckbrush. Thirty feet more—thirty feet of +particularly difficult stalking—and he would be in leaping range. If he +could only cross this last distance in silence, the game was his.</p> + +<p>His body lowered. The tail lashed back and forth, and now it had begun +to have a slight vertical motion that frontiersmen have learned to watch +for. He placed every paw with consummate grace, and few sets of human +nerves have sufficient control over leg muscles to move with such +astounding, exacting patience. He scarcely seemed to move at all.</p> + +<p>The distance slowly shortened. He was almost to the last thicket, from +which he might spring. His wild blood was leaping in his veins.</p> + +<p>But when scarcely ten feet remained to stalk, a sudden sound pricked +through the darkness. It came from afar, but it was no less terrible. It +was really two sounds, so close together that they sounded as one. +Neither Blacktail nor Whisperfoot had any delusions about them. They +recognized them at once, in strange ways under the skin that no man may +describe, as the far-off reports of a rifle. Just to-day Blacktail had +seen his doe fall bleeding when this same sound, only louder, spoke from +a covert from which Bert Cranston had poached her,—and he left the lick +in one bound.</p> + +<p>Terrified though he was by the rifle shot, still Whisperfoot sprang. But +the distance was too far. His outstretched paw hummed down four feet +behind Blacktail's flank. Then forgetting everything but his anger and +disappointment, the great cougar opened his mouth and howled.</p> + +<p>Howling, the forest people know, never helped one living thing. Of +course this means such howls as Whisperfoot uttered now, not that +deliberate long singsong by which certain of the beasts of prey will +sometimes throw a herd of game into a panic and cause them to run into +an ambush. All Whisperfoot's howl of anger achieved was to frighten all +the deer out of his territory and render it extremely unlikely that he +would have another chance at them that night. Even Dan and Lennox, too +far distant to hear the shots, heard the howl very plainly, and both of +them rejoiced that he had missed.</p> + +<p>The long night was almost done when Whisperfoot even got sight of +further game. Once a flock of grouse exploded with a roar of wings from +a thicket; but they had been wakened by the first whisper of dawn in the +wind, and he really had no chance at them. Soon after this, the moon +set.</p> + +<p>The larger creatures of the forest are almost as helpless in absolute +darkness as human beings. It is very well to talk of seeing in the dark, +but from the nature of things, even vertical pupils may only respond to +light. No owl or bat can see in absolute darkness. Although the stars +still burned, and possibly a fine filament of light had spread out from +the East, the descending moon left the forest much too dark for +Whisperfoot to hunt with any advantage. It became increasingly likely +that he would have to retire to his lair without any meal whatever.</p> + +<p>But still he remained, hoping against hope. After a futile fifteen +minutes of watching a trail, he heard a doe feeding on a hillside. Its +footfall was not so heavy as the sturdy tramp of a buck, and besides, +the bucks would be higher on the ridges this time of morning. He began a +cautious advance toward it.</p> + +<p>For the first fifty yards the hunt was in his favor. He came up wind, +and the brush made a perfect cover. But the doe unfortunately was +standing a full twenty yards farther, in an open glade. For a long +moment the tawny creature stood motionless, hoping that the prey would +wander toward him. But even in this darkness, he could tell that she was +making a half-circle that would miss him by forty yards, a course that +would eventually take her down wind in almost the direction that +Whisperfoot had come.</p> + +<p>Under ordinary circumstances, Whisperfoot would not have made an attack. +A cougar can run swiftly, but a deer is light itself. The big cat would +have preferred to linger, a motionless thing in the thickets, hoping +some other member of the deer herd to which the doe must have belonged +would come into his ambush. But the hunt was late, and Whisperfoot was +very, very angry. Too many times this night he had missed his kill. +Besides, the herd was certainly somewhere down wind, and for certain +very important reasons a cougar might as well hunt elephants as try to +stalk down wind. The breeze carries his scent more surely than a servant +carries a visiting card. In desperation, he leaped from the thicket and +charged the deer.</p> + +<p>In spite of the preponderant odds against him, the charge was almost a +success. He went fully half the distance between them before the deer +perceived him. Then she leaped. There seemed to be no interlude of time +between the instant that she beheld the dim, tawny figure in the air and +that in which her long legs pushed out in a spring. But she didn't leap +straight ahead. She knew enough of the cougars to know that the great +cat would certainly aim for her head and neck in the same way that a +duck-hunter leads a fast-flying duck,—hoping to intercept her leap. +Even as her feet left the ground she seemed to whirl in the air, and the +deadly talons whipped down in vain. Then, cutting back in front, she +raced down wind.</p> + +<p>It is usually the most unmitigated folly for a cougar to chase a deer +against which he has missed his stroke; and it is also quite fatal to +his dignity. And whoever doubts for a minute that the larger creatures +have no dignity, and that it is not very dear to them, simply knows +nothing about the ways of animals. They cling to it to the death. And +nothing is quite so amusing to old Woof, the bear—who, after all, has +the best sense of humor in the forest—as the sight of a tawny, majestic +mountain lion, rabid and foaming at the mouth, in an effort to chase a +deer that he can't possibly catch. But to-night it was too dark for Woof +to see. Besides, one disappointment after another had crumbled, as the +rains crumble leaves, the last vestige of Whisperfoot's self-control. +Snarling in fury, he bounded after the doe.</p> + +<p>She was lost to sight at once in the darkness, but for fully thirty +yards he raced in her pursuit. And it is true that deep down in his own +well of instincts—those mysterious waters that the events of life can +hardly trouble—he really didn't expect to overtake her. If he had +stopped to think, it would have been one of the really great surprises +of his life to hear the sudden, unmistakable stir and movement of a +large, living creature not fifteen feet distant in the thicket.</p> + +<p>He didn't stop to think at all. He didn't puzzle on the extreme +unlikelihood of a doe halting in her flight from a cougar. It is +doubtful whether, in the thickets, he had any perceptions of the +creature other than its movements. He was running down wind, so it is +certain that he didn't smell it. If he saw it at all, it was just as a +shadow, sufficiently large to be that of a deer. It was moving, crawling +as Woof sometimes crawled, seemingly to get out of his path. And +Whisperfoot leaped straight at it.</p> + +<p>It was a perfect shot. He landed high on its shoulders. His head lashed +down, and the white teeth closed. All the long life of his race he had +known that pungent essence that flowed forth. His senses perceived it, a +message shot along his nerves to his brain. And then he opened his mouth +in a high, far-carrying squeal of utter, abject terror.</p> + +<p>He sprang a full fifteen feet back into the thickets; then crouched. The +hair stood still at his shoulders, his claws were bared; he was prepared +to fight to the death. He didn't understand. He only knew the worst +single terror of his life. It was not a doe that he had attacked in the +darkness. It was not Urson, the porcupine, or even Woof. It was that +imperial master of all things, man himself. Unknowing, he had attacked +Landy Hildreth, lying wounded from Cranston's bullet beside the trail. +Word of the arson ring would never reach the settlements, after all.</p> + +<p>And as for Whisperfoot,—the terror that choked his heart with blood +began to wear off in a little while. The man lay so still in the +thickets. Besides, there was a strange, wild smell in the air. +Whisperfoot's stroke had gone home so true there had not even been a +fight. The darkness began to lift around him, and a strange exultation, +a rapture unknown before in all his hunting, began to creep into his +wild blood. Then, as a shadow steals, he went creeping back to his +dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VB" id="VB"></a>V</h2> + + +<p>Dan Failing had been studying nature on the high ridges; and he went +home by a back trail that led to old Bald Mountain. Many a man of longer +residence in the mountains wouldn't have cared to strike off through the +thickets with no guide except his own sense of direction. The ridges are +too many, and they look too much alike. It is very easy to walk in a +great circle—because one leg tires before the other—with no hope +whatever of anything except the spirit ever rising above the barrier of +the pines. But Dan always knew exactly where he was. It was part of his +inheritance from his frontiersmen ancestors, and it freed his wings in +the hills.</p> + +<p>The trail was just a narrow serpent in the brush; and it had not been +made by gangs of laborers, working with shovels and picks. Possibly half +a dozen white men, in all, had ever walked along it. It was just the +path of the wild creatures, worn down by hoof and paw and cushion since +the young days of the world.</p> + +<p>It was covered, like a sheep lane, with little slit triangles in the +yellow dirt. Some of them were hardly larger than the print of a man's +thumb, and they went all the way up to a great imprint that Dan could +scarcely cover with his open hand. All manner of deer, from seasonal +fawns with spotted coats and wide, startled eyes to the great bull elk, +monarch of the forest, had passed that way before him. Once he found the +traces of an old kill, where a cougar had dined and from which the +buzzards had but newly departed. And once he saw where Woof had left his +challenge in the bark of a great pine.</p> + +<p>This is a very common thing for Woof to do,—to go about leaving +challenges as if he were the most warlike creature in the world. In +reality, he never fights until he is driven to it, and then his big, +furry arms turn out to be steel compressors of the first order; he is +patient and good-natured and ordinarily all he wants to do is sleep in +the leaves and grunt and soliloquize and hunt berries. But woe to the +man or beast who meets him in a rough-and-tumble fight. Unlike his great +cousin the Grizzly, that American Adamzad that not only walks like a man +but kills cattle like a butcher, he almost never eats meat. No one ever +pays any attention to his challenges either, and likely he never +thought any one would. They seemed to be the result of an inherited +tendency with him, just as much as to grow drowsy in winter, or to +scratch fleas from his furry hide.</p> + +<p>He sees a tree that suits his fancy and immediately stands on his hind +legs beside it. Then he scratches the bark, just as high up as he can +reach. The idea seemed to be that if any other bear should journey along +that way, should find that he couldn't reach as high, he would +immediately quit the territory. But it doesn't work out in practice. +Nine times out of ten there will be a dozen Woofs in the same +neighborhood, no two of equal size, yet they hunt their berries and rob +their bee trees in perfect peace. Perhaps the impulse still remains, a +dim, remembered instinct, long after it has outlived its +usefulness,—just as man, ten thousand years after his arboreal +existence, will often throw his arms into the air as if to seize a tree +branch when he is badly frightened.</p> + +<p>It was a roundabout trail home, but yet it had its advantages. It took +him within two miles of Snowbird's lookout station, and at this hour of +day he had been particularly fortunate in finding her at a certain +spring on the mountain side. It was a rather singular coincidence. Along +about four he would usually find himself wandering up that way. +Strangely enough, at the same time, it was true that she had an +irresistible impulse to go down and sit in the green ferns beside the +same spring. They always seemed to be surprised to see one another. In +reality, either of them would have been considerably more surprised had +the other failed to put in an appearance. And always they had long +talks, as the afternoon drew to twilight.</p> + +<p>"But I don't think you ought to wait so late before starting home," the +girl would always say. "You're not a human hawk, and it is easier to get +lost than you think."</p> + +<p>And this solicitude, Dan rightly figured, was a good sign. There was +only one objection to it. It resulted in an unmistakable inference that +she considered him unable to take care of himself,—and that was the +last thing on earth that he wanted her to think. He understood her well +enough to know that her standards were the standards of the mountains, +valuing strength and self-reliance above all things. He didn't stop to +question why, every day, he trod so many weary miles to be with her.</p> + +<p>She was as natural as a fawn; and many times she had quite taken away +his breath. And once she did it literally. He didn't think that so long +as death spared him he would ever be able to forget that experience. It +was her birthday, and knowing of it in time he had arranged for the +delivery of a certain package, dear to a girlish heart, at her father's +house. In the trysting hour he had come trudging over the hills with it, +and few experiences in his life had ever yielded such unmitigated +pleasure as the sight of her, glowing white and red, as she took off its +wrapping paper. It was a jolly old gift, he recollected.—And when she +had seen it, she fairly leaped at him. Her warm, round arms around his +neck, and the softest, loveliest lips in the world pressed his. But in +those days he didn't have the strength that he had now. He felt he could +endure the same experience again with no embarrassment whatever. His +first impression then, besides abounding, incredible astonishment, was +that she had quite knocked out his breath. But let it be said for him +that he recovered with notable promptness. His own arms had gone up and +closed around,—and the girl had wriggled free.</p> + +<p>"But you mustn't do that!" she told him.</p> + +<p>"But, good Lord, girl! You did it to me! Is there no justice in women?"</p> + +<p>"But I did it to thank you for this lovely gift. For remembering me—for +being so good—and considerate. You haven't any cause to thank me."</p> + +<p>He had many very serious difficulties in thinking it out. And only one +conclusion was obtainable,—that Snowbird kissed as naturally as she did +anything else, and the kiss meant exactly what she said it did and no +more. But the fact remained that he would have walked a good many miles +farther if he thought there was any possibility of a repeat.</p> + +<p>But all at once his fantasies were suddenly and rudely dispelled by the +intrusion of realities. Even a man in the depths of concentration cannot +be inattentive to the wild sounds of the mountains. They have a +commanding, a penetrating quality all their own. A mathematician cannot +walk over a mountain trail pondering on the fourth dimension when some +living creature is consistently cracking brush in the thickets beside +him. Human nature is directly opposed to such a thing, and it is too +much to expect of any man. He has too many race memories of saber-tooth +tigers, springing from their lairs, and likely he has heard too many +bear stories in his youth.</p> + +<p>Dan had been walking silently himself in the pine needles. As Lennox had +wondered at long ago, he knew how by instinct; and instinctively he +practiced this attainment as soon as he got out into the wild. The +creature was fully one hundred yards distant, yet Dan could hear him +with entire plainness. And for a while he couldn't even guess what +manner of thing it might be.</p> + +<p>A cougar that made so much noise would be immediately expelled from the +union. A wolf pack, running by sight, might crack brush as freely; but a +wolf pack would also bay to wake the dead. Of course it might be an elk +or a steer, and still more likely, a bear. He stood still and listened. +The sound grew nearer.</p> + +<p>Soon it became evident that the creature was either walking with two +legs, or else was a four-footed animal putting two feet down at the same +instant. Dan had learned to wait. He stood perfectly still. And +gradually he came to the conclusion that he was listening to the +footfall of another man.</p> + +<p>But it was rather hard to imagine what a man might be doing on this +lonely hill. Of course it might be a deer hunter; but few were the +valley sportsmen who had penetrated to this far land. The footfall was +much too heavy for Snowbird. The steps were evidently on another trail +that intersected his own trail one hundred yards farther up the hill. He +had only to stand still, and in an instant the man would come in sight.</p> + +<p>He took one step into the thickets, prepared to conceal himself if it +became necessary. Then he waited. Soon the man stepped out on the +trail.</p> + +<p>Even at the distance of one hundred yards, Dan had no difficulty +whatever in recognizing him. He could not mistake this tall, dark form, +the soiled, slouchy clothes, the rough hair, the intent, dark features. +It was a man about his own age, his own height, but weighing fully +twenty pounds more, and the dark, narrow eyes could belong to no one but +Bert Cranston. He carried his rifle loosely in his arms.</p> + +<p>He stopped at the forks in the trail and looked carefully in all +directions. Dan had every reason to think that Cranston would see him at +first glance. Only one clump of thicket sheltered him. But because Dan +had learned the lesson of standing still, because his olive-drab +sporting clothes blended softly with the colored leaves, Cranston did +not detect him. He turned and strode on down the trail.</p> + +<p>He didn't move quite like a man with innocent purposes. There was +something stealthy, something sinister in his stride, and the way he +kept such a sharp lookout in all directions. Yet he never glanced to the +trail for deer tracks, as he would have done had he been hunting. +Without even waiting to meditate on the matter, Dan started to shadow +him.</p> + +<p>Before one hundred yards had been traversed, he could better understand +the joy the cougar takes in his hunting. It was the same process,—a +cautious, silent advance in the trail of prey. He had to walk with the +same caution, he had to take advantage of the thickets. He began to feel +a curious excitement.</p> + +<p>Cranston seemed to be moving more carefully now, examining the brush +along the trail. Now and then he glanced up at the tree tops. And all at +once he stopped and knelt in the dry shrubbery.</p> + +<p>At first all that Dan could see was the glitter of a knife blade. +Cranston seemed to be whittling a piece of dead pine into fine shavings. +Now he was gathering pine needles and small twigs, making a little pile +of them. And then, just as Cranston drew his match, Dan saw his purpose.</p> + +<p>Cranston was at his old trade,—setting a forest fire.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIB" id="VIB"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p>For two very good reasons, Dan didn't call to Cranston at once. The two +reasons were that Cranston had a rifle and that Dan was unarmed. It +might be extremely likely that Cranston would choose the most plausible +and effective means of preventing an interruption of his crime, and by +the same token, prevent word of the crime ever reaching the authorities. +The rifle contained five cartridges, and only one was needed.</p> + +<p>But the idea of backing out, unseen, never even occurred to Dan. The +fire would have a tremendous headway before he could summon help. +Although it was near the lookout station, every condition pointed to a +disastrous fire. The brush was dry as tinder, not so heavy as to choke +the wind, but yet tall enough to carry the flame into the tree tops. The +stiff breeze up the ridge would certainly carry the flame for miles +through the parched Divide before help could come. In the meantime stock +and lives and homes would be endangered, besides the irreparable loss of +timber. There were many things that Dan might do, but giving up was not +one of them.</p> + +<p>After all, he did the wisest thing of all. He simply came out in plain +sight and unconcernedly walked down the trail toward Cranston. At the +same instant, the latter struck his match.</p> + +<p>As Dan was no longer stalking, Cranston immediately heard his step. He +whirled, recognized Dan, and for one long instant in which the world +seemed to have time in plenty to make a complete revolution, he stood +perfectly motionless. The match flared in his dark fingers, his +eyes—full of singular conjecturing—rested on Dan's face. No instant of +the latter's life had ever been fraught with greater peril. He +understood perfectly what was going on in Cranston's mind. The +fire-fiend was calmly deciding whether to shoot or whether to bluff it +out. One required no more moral courage than the other. It really didn't +make a great deal of difference to Cranston.</p> + +<p>He had been born in the hills, and his spirit was the spirit of the +wolf,—to kill when necessary, without mercy or remorse. Besides, Dan +represented, in his mind, all that Cranston hated,—the law, gentleness, +the great civilized world that spread below. But in spite of it, he +decided that the killing was not worth the cartridge. The other course +was too easy. He did not even dream that Dan had been shadowing him and +had seen his intention. He would have laughed at the idea that a +"tenderfoot" could thus walk behind him, unheard. Without concern, he +scattered with his foot the little heap of kindling, and slipping his +pipe into his mouth, he touched the flaring match to it. It was a wholly +admirable little piece of acting, and would have deceived any one who +had not seen his previous preparations. The fact that the pipe was empty +mattered not one way or another. Then he walked on down the trail toward +Dan.</p> + +<p>Dan stopped and lighted his own pipe. It was a curious little truce. And +then he leaned back against the great, gray trunk of a fallen tree.</p> + +<p>"Well, Cranston," he said civilly. The men had met on previous +occasions, and always there had been the same invisible war between +them.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Failing," Cranston replied. No perceptions could be so +blunt as to miss the premeditated insult in the tone. He didn't speak in +his own tongue at all, the short, guttural "Howdy" that is the greeting +of the mountain men. He pronounced all the words with an exaggerated +precision, an unmistakable mockery of Dan's own tone. In his accent he +threw a tone of sickly sweetness, and his inference was all too plain. +He was simply calling Failing a milksop and a white-liver; just as +plainly as if he had used the words.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the two men met. Cranston's lips were slightly curled in an +unmistakable leer. Dan's were very straight. And in one thing at least, +their eyes looked just the same. The pupils of both pairs had contracted +to steel points, bright in the dark gray of the irises. Cranston's +looked somewhat red; and Dan's were only hard and bright.</p> + +<p>Dan felt himself straighten; and the color mounted somewhat higher in +his brown cheeks. But he did not try to avenge the insult—yet. Cranston +was still fifteen feet distant, and that was too far. A man may swing a +rifle within fifteen feet. The fact that they were in no way physical +equals did not even occur to him. When the insult is great enough, such +considerations cannot possibly matter. Cranston was hard as steel, one +hundred and seventy pounds in weight. Dan did not touch one hundred and +fifty, and a deadly disease had not yet entirely relinquished its hold +upon him.</p> + +<p>"I do very well, Cranston," Dan answered in the same tone. "Wouldn't you +like another match? I believe your pipe has gone out."</p> + +<p>Very little can be said for the wisdom of this remark. It was simply +human,—that age-old creed to answer blow for blow and insult for +insult. Of course the inference was obvious,—that Dan was accusing him, +by innuendo, of his late attempt at arson. Cranston glanced up quickly, +and it might be true that his fingers itched and tingled about the +barrel of his rifle. He knew what Dan meant. He understood perfectly +that Dan had guessed his purpose on the mountain side. And the curl at +his lips became more pronounced.</p> + +<p>"What a smart little boy," he scorned. "Going to be a Sherlock Holmes +when he grows up." Then he half turned and the light in his eyes blazed +up. He was not leering now. The mountain men are too intense to play at +insult very long. Their inherent savagery comes to the surface, and they +want the warmth of blood upon their fingers. The voice became guttural. +"Maybe you're a spy?" he asked. "Maybe you're one of those city rats—to +come up and watch us, and then run and tell the forest service. There's +two things, Failing, that I want you to know."</p> + +<p>Dan puffed at his pipe, and his eyes looked curiously bright through the +film of smoke. "I'm not interested in hearing them," he said.</p> + +<p>"It might pay you," Cranston went on. "One of 'em is that one man's word +is good as another's in a court—and it wouldn't do you any good to run +down and tell tales. A man can light his pipe on the mountain side +without the courts being interested. The second thing is—just that I +don't think you'd find it a healthy thing to do."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, then, that is a threat?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't just a threat." Cranston laughed harshly,—a single, grim +syllable that was the most terrible sound he had yet uttered. "It's a +fact. Just try it, Failing. Just make one little step in that direction. +You couldn't hide behind a girl's skirts then. Why, you city sissy, I'd +break you to pieces in my hands!"</p> + +<p>Few men can make a threat without a muscular accompaniment. Its very +utterance releases pent-up emotions, part of which can only pour forth +in muscular expression. And anger is a primitive thing, going down to +the most mysterious depths of a man's nature. As Cranston spoke, his lip +curled, his dark fingers clenched on his thick palm, and he half leaned +forward.</p> + +<p>Dan knocked out his pipe on the log. It was the only sound in that whole +mountain realm; all the lesser sounds were stilled. The two men stood +face to face, Dan tranquil, Cranston shaken by passion.</p> + +<p>"I give you," said Dan with entire coldness, "an opportunity to take +that back. Just about four seconds."</p> + +<p>He stood very straight as he spoke, and his eyes did not waver in the +least. It would not be the truth to say that his heart was not leaping +like a wild thing in his breast. A dark mist was spreading like madness +over his brain; but yet he was striving to keep his thoughts clear. It +was hard to do, under insult. But he knew that only by craft, by cool +thinking and planning, could he even hope to stand against the brawny +Cranston. He kept a remorseless control over his voice and face. +Stealthily, without seeming to do so, he was setting his muscles for a +spring.</p> + +<p>The only answer to his words was a laugh,—a roaring laugh of scorn from +Cranston's dark lips. In his laughter, his intent, catlike vigilance +relaxed. Dan saw a chance; feeble though it was, it was the only chance +he had. And his long body leaped like a serpent through the air.</p> + +<p>Physical superior though he was, Cranston would have repelled the attack +with his rifle if he had had a chance. His blood was already at the +murder heat—a point always quickly reached in Cranston—and the dark, +hot fumes in his brain were simply nothing more nor less than the most +poisonous, bitter hatred. No other word exists. If his class of +degenerate mountain men had no other accomplishment, they could hate. +All their lives they practiced the emotion: hatred of their neighbors, +hatred of law, hatred of civilization in all its forms. Besides, this +kind of hillman habitually fought his duels with rifles. Hands were not +deadly enough.</p> + +<p>But Dan was past his guard before he had time to raise his gun. The +whole attack was one of the most astounding surprises of Cranston's +life. Dan's body struck his, his fists flailed, and to protect himself, +Cranston was obliged to drop the rifle. They staggered, as if in some +weird dance, on the trail; and their arms clasped in a clinch.</p> + +<p>For a long instant they stood straining, seemingly motionless. +Cranston's powerful body had stood up well under the shock of Dan's +leap. It was a hand-to-hand battle now. The rifle had slid on down the +hillside, to be caught in a clump of brush twenty feet below. Dan called +on every ounce of his strength, because he knew what mercy he might +expect if Cranston mastered him. The battles of the mountains were +battles to the death.</p> + +<p>They flung back and forth, wrenching shoulders, lashing fists, teeth and +feet and fingers. There were no Marquis of Queensbury rules in this +battle. Again and again Dan sent home his blows; but they all seemed +ineffective. By now, Cranston had completely overcome the moment's +advantage the other had obtained by the power of his leap. He hurled Dan +from the clinch and lashed at him with hard fists.</p> + +<p>It is a very common thing to hear of a silent fight. But it is really a +more rare occurrence than most people believe. It is true that serpents +will often fight in the strangest, most eerie silence; but human beings +are not serpents. They partake more of the qualities of the +meat-eaters,—the wolves and the felines. After the first instant, the +noise of the fight aroused the whole hillside. The sound of blows was in +itself notable, and besides, both of the men were howling the primordial +battle cries of hatred and vengeance.</p> + +<p>For two long minutes Dan fought with the strength of desperation, +summoning at last all that mysterious reserve force with which all men +are born. But he was playing a losing game. The malady with which he had +suffered had taken too much of his vigor. Even as he struggled, it +seemed to him that the vista about him, the dark pines, the colored +leaves of the perennial shrubbery, the yellow path were all obscured in +a strange, white mist. A great wind roared in his ears,—and his heart +was evidently about to shiver to pieces.</p> + +<p>But still he fought on, not daring to yield. He could no longer parry +Cranston's blows. The latter's arms went around him in one of those +deadly holds that wrestlers know; and Dan struggled in vain to free +himself. Cranston's face itself seemed hideous and unreal in the mist +that was creeping over him. He did not recognize the curious thumping +sound as Cranston's fists on his flesh. And now Cranston had hurled him +off his feet.</p> + +<p>Nothing mattered further. He had fought the best he could. This cruel +beast could pounce on him at will and hammer away his life. But still he +struggled. Except for the constant play of his muscles, his almost +unconscious effort to free himself that kept one of Cranston's arms busy +holding him down, that fight on the mountain path might have come to a +sudden end. Human bodies can stand a terrific punishment; but Dan's was +weakened from the ravages of his disease. Besides, Cranston would soon +have both hands and both feet free for the work, and when these four +terrible weapons are used at once, the issue—soon or late—can never be +in doubt.</p> + +<p>But even now, consciousness still lingered. Dan could hear his enemy's +curses,—and far up the trail, he heard another, stranger sound. It was +that second of acute sensibilities that usually immediately precedes +unconsciousness, and he heard it very plainly. It sounded like some one +running.</p> + +<p>And then he dimly knew that Cranston was climbing from his body. Voices +were speaking,—quick, commanding voices just over him. Above Cranston's +savage curses another voice rang clear, and to Dan's ears, glorious +beyond all human utterance.</p> + +<p>He opened his tortured eyes. The mists lifted from in front of them, and +the whole drama was revealed. It had not been sudden mercy that had +driven Cranston from his body, just when his victim's falling +unconsciousness would have put him completely in his power. Rather it +was something black and ominous that even now was pointed squarely at +Cranston's breast.</p> + +<p>None too soon, a ranger of the hill had heard the sounds of the +struggle, and had left the trysting place at the spring to come to Dan's +aid. It was Snowbird, very pale but wholly self-sufficient and +determined and intent. Her pistol was quite cocked and ready.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIIB" id="VIIB"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p>Dan Failing was really not badly hurt. The quick, lashing blows had not +done more than severely bruise the flesh of his face; and the mists of +unconsciousness that had been falling over him were more nearly the +result of his own tremendous physical exertion. Now these mists were +rising.</p> + +<p>"Go—go away," the girl was commanding. "I think you've killed him."</p> + +<p>Dan opened his eyes to find her kneeling close beside him, but still +covering Cranston with her pistol. Her hand was resting on his bruised +cheek. He couldn't have believed that a human face could be as white, +while life still remained, as hers was then. All the lovely tints that +had been such a delight to him, the play of soft reds and browns, had +faded as an after-glow fades on the snow.</p> + +<p>Dan's glance moved with hers to Cranston. He was standing easily at a +distance of a dozen feet; and except for the faintest tremble all over +his body, a muscular reaction from the violence of his passion, he had +entirely regained his self-composure. This was quite characteristic of +the mountain men. They share with the beasts a passion of living that is +wholly unknown on the plains; but yet they have a certain quality of +imperturbability known nowhere else. Nor is it limited to the +native-born mountaineers. No man who intimately knows a member of that +curious, keen-eyed little army of naturalists and big-game hunters who +go to the north woods every fall, as regularly and seemingly as +inexorably as the waterfowl go in spring, can doubt this fact. They seem +to have acquired from the silence and the snows an impregnation of that +eternal calm and imperturbability that is the wilderness itself. +Cranston wasn't in the least afraid. Fear is usually a matter of +uncertainty, and he knew exactly where he stood.</p> + +<p>It is extremely doubtful if a plainsman would have possessed this +knowledge. But a plainsman has not the knowledge of life itself that the +mountaineer has, simply because he does not see it in the raw. And he +has not half the intimate knowledge of death, an absolute requisite of +self-composure. The mountaineer knows life in its simple phases with +little tradition or convention to blur the vision. Death is a very +intimate acquaintance that may be met in any snowdrift, on any rocky +trail; and these conditions are very deadly to any delusions that he has +in regard to himself. He acquires an ability to see just where he +stands, and of course that means self-possession. This quality had +something to do with the remarkable record that the mountain men, such +as that magnificent warrior from Tennessee, made in the late war.</p> + +<p>Cranston knew exactly what Snowbird would do. Although of a higher +order, she was a mountain creature, even as himself. She meant exactly +what she said. If he hadn't climbed from Dan's prone body, she would +have shot quickly and very straight. If he tried to attack either of +them now, her finger would press back before he could blink an eye, and +she wouldn't weep any hysterical tears over his dead body. If he kept +his distance, she wouldn't shoot at all. He meant to keep his distance. +But he did know that he could insult her without danger to himself. And +by now his lips had acquired their old curl of scorn.</p> + +<p>"I'll go, Snowbird," he said. "I'll leave you with your sissy. But I +guess you saw what I did to him—in two minutes."</p> + +<p>"I saw. But you must remember he's sick. Now go."</p> + +<p>"If he's sick, let him stay in bed—and have a wet nurse. Maybe you can +be that."</p> + +<p>The lids drooped halfway over her gray eyes, and the slim finger curled +more tightly about the trigger. "Oh, I wish I could shoot you, Bert!" +she said. She didn't whisper it, or hiss it, or hurl it, or do any of +the things most people are supposed to do in moments of violent emotion. +She simply said it, and her meaning was all the clearer.</p> + +<p>"But you can't. And I'll pound that milksop of yours to a jelly every +time I see him. I'd think, Snowbird, that you'd want a <i>man</i>."</p> + +<p>He started up the trail; and then she did a strange thing. "He's more of +a man than you are, right now, Bert," she told him. "He'll prove it some +day." Then her arm went about Dan's neck and lifted his head upon her +breast; and in Cranston's plain sight, she bent and kissed him, softly, +on the lips.</p> + +<p>Cranston's answer was an oath. It dripped from his lips, more poisonous, +more malicious than the venom of a snake. His late calm, treasured so +much, dropped from him in an instant. His features seemed to tighten, +the dark lips drew away from his teeth. No words could have made him +such an effective answer as this little action of hers. And as he turned +up the trail, he called down to her a name,—that most dreadful epithet +that foul tongues have always used to women held in greatest scorn.</p> + +<p>Dan struggled in her arms. The kiss on his lips, the instant before, had +not called him out of his half-consciousness. It had scarcely seemed +real, rather just an incident in a blissful dream. But the word called +down the trail shot out clear and vivid from the silence, just as a +physician's face will often leap from the darkness after the anesthesia. +The whole scene in an instant became incredibly vivid,—the dark figure +on the trail, the girl's white face above him, narrow-eyed and +drawn-lipped, and the dark pines, silent and sad, overhead. Something +infinitely warm and tender was holding him, pressing him back against a +holy place that throbbed and gave him life and strength; but he knew +that this word had to be answered. And only actions, not other words, +could be its payment. All the voices of his body called to him to lie +still, but the voices of the spirit, those higher, nobler promptings +from which no man, to the glory of the breed from which he sprung, can +ever quite escape, were stronger yet. He tugged upward, straining. But +he didn't even have the strength to break the hold that the soft arm had +about his neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I could only pull the trigger!" she was crying. "If I could only +kill him—"</p> + +<p>"Let me," he pleaded. "Give me the pistol. I'll kill him—"</p> + +<p>And he would. There was no flinching in the gray eyes that looked up to +her. She leaned forward, as if to put the weapon in his hands, but at +once drew it back. And then a single sob caught at her throat. An +instant later, they heard Cranston's laughter as he vanished around the +turn of the trail.</p> + +<p>For long minutes the two of them were still. The girl still held the +man's head upon her breast. The pistol had fallen in the pine needles, +and her nervous hand plucked strangely at the leaves of a mountain +flower. To Dan's eyes, there was something trancelike, a hint of +paralysis and insensibility about her posture. He had never seen her +eyes like this. The light that he had always beheld in them had +vanished. Their utter darkness startled him.</p> + +<p>He sat up straight, and her arm that had been about his neck fell at her +side. He took her hand firmly in his, and their eyes met.</p> + +<p>"We must go home, Snowbird," he told her simply. "I'm not so badly hurt +but that I can make it."</p> + +<p>She nodded; but otherwise scarcely seemed to hear. Her eyes still +flowed with darkness. And then, before his own eyes, their dark pupils +began to contract. The hand he held filled and throbbed with life, and +the fingers closed around his. She leaned toward him.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Dan," she said quickly. "You heard—didn't you—the last thing +that he said?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help but hear, Snowbird."</p> + +<p>Her other hand sought for his. "Then if you heard—payment must be made. +You see what I mean, Dan. Maybe you can't see, knowing the girls that +live on the plains. You were the cause of his saying it, and you must +answer—"</p> + +<p>It seemed to Dan that some stern code of the hills, unwritten except in +the hearts of their children, inexorable as night, was speaking through +her lips. This was no personal thing. In some dim, half-understood way, +it went back to the basic code of life.</p> + +<p>"People must fight their own fights, up here," she told him. "The laws +of the courts that the plains' people can appeal to are all too far +away. There's no one that can do it, except you. Not my father. My +father can't fight your battles here, if your honor is going to stand. +It's up to you, Dan. You can't pretend that you didn't hear him. Such as +you are, weak and sick to be beaten to a pulp in two minutes, you alone +will have to make him answer for it. I came to your aid—and now you +must come to mine."</p> + +<p>Her fingers no longer clasped his. Strength had come back to him, and +his fingers closed down until the blood went out of hers, but she was +wholly unconscious of the pain. In reality, she was conscious of nothing +except the growing flame in his face. It held her eyes, in passionate +fascination. His pupils were contracting to little bright dots in the +gray irises. The jaw was setting, as she had never seen it before.</p> + +<p>"Do you <i>think</i>, Snowbird, that you'd even have to ask me?" he demanded. +"Don't you think I understand? And it won't be in your defense—only my +own duty."</p> + +<p>"But he is so strong—and you are so weak—"</p> + +<p>"I won't be so weak forever. I never really cared much about living +before. I'll try now, and you'll see—oh, Snowbird, wait and trust me: I +understand everything. It's my own fight—when you kissed me, and he +cried down that word in anger and jealousy, it put the whole thing on +me. No one else can make him answer; no one else has the right. It's my +honor, no one else's, that stands or falls."</p> + +<p>He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it again and again.</p> + +<p>And for the first time he saw the tears gathering in her dark eyes. "But +you <i>fought</i> here, didn't you, Dan?" she asked with painful slowness. +"You didn't put up your arms—or try to run away? I didn't come till he +had you done, so I didn't see." She looked at him as if her whole joy of +life hung on his answer.</p> + +<p>"Fought! I would have fought till I died! But that isn't enough, +Snowbird. It isn't enough just to fight, in a case like this. A man's +got to win! I would have died if you hadn't come. And that's another +debt that I have to pay—only that debt I owe to <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>She nodded slowly. The lives of the mountain men are not saved by their +women without incurring obligation. She attempted no barren denials. She +made no effort to pretend he had not incurred a tremendous debt when she +had come with her pistol. It was an unavoidable fact. A life for a life +is the code of the mountains.</p> + +<p>"Two things I must do, before I can ever dare to die," he told her +soberly. "One of them is to pay you; the other is to pay Cranston for +the thing he said. Maybe the chance will never come for the first of the +two; only I'll pray that it will. Maybe it would be kinder to you to +pray that it wouldn't; yet I pray that it will! Maybe I can pay that +debt only by being always ready, always watching for a chance to save +you from any danger, always trying to protect you. You didn't come in +time to see the fight I made. Besides—I lost, and little else matters. +And that debt to you can't be paid until sometime I fight again—for +you—and win." He gasped from his weakness, but went on bravely. "I'll +never be able to feel at peace, Snowbird, until I'm tested in the fire +before your eyes! I want to show you the things Cranston said of me are +not true—that my courage can stand the test.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be the same, perhaps, with an Eastern girl. Other things +matter in the valleys. But I see how it is here; that there is only one +standard for men and by that standard they rise or fall. Things in the +mountains are down to the essentials."</p> + +<p>He paused and struggled for strength to continue. "And I know what you +said to him," he went on. "Half-unconscious as I was, I remember every +word. Each word just seems to burn into me, Snowbird, and I'll make +every one of them good. You said I am a better man than he, and sometime +it would be proved—and it's the truth! Maybe in a month, maybe in a +year. I'm not going to die from this malady of mine now, Snowbird. I've +got too much to live for—too many debts to pay. In the end, I'll prove +your words to him."</p> + +<p>His eyes grew earnest, and the hard fire went out of them. "It's almost +as if you were a queen, a real queen of some great kingdom," he told +her, tremulous with a great awe that was stealing over him, as a mist +steals over water. "And because I had kissed your fingers, for ever and +ever I was your subject, living only to fight your fights—maybe with a +dream in the end to kiss your fingers again. When you bent and kissed me +on that hillside—for him to see—it was the same: that I was sworn to +you, and nothing mattered in my life except the service and love I could +give to you. And it's more than you ever dream, Snowbird. It's all +yours, for your battles and your happiness."</p> + +<p>The great pines were silent above them, shadowed and dark. Perhaps they +were listening to an age-old story, those vows of service and +self-gained worth by which the race has struggled upward from the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"But I kissed you—once before," she reminded him. The voice was just a +whisper, hardly louder than the stir of the leaves in the wind.</p> + +<p>"But that kiss didn't count," he told her. "It wasn't at all the same. I +loved you then, I think, but it didn't mean what it did to-day."</p> + +<p>"And what—" she leaned toward him, her eyes full on his, "does it mean +now?"</p> + +<p>"All that's worth while in life, all that matters when everything is +said that can be said, and all is done that can be done. And it means, +please God, when the debts are paid, that I may have such a kiss again."</p> + +<p>"Not until then," she told him, whispering.</p> + +<p>"Until then, I make oath that I won't even ask it, or receive it if you +should give it. It goes too deep, dearest—and it means too much."</p> + +<p>This was their pact. Not until the debts were paid and her word made +good would those lips be his again. There was no need for further words. +Both of them knew. The soldier of the queen must be tried with fire, +before he may return to kiss her fingers. The light burns clear in this. +No instances of degeneracy, no exceptions brought to pass by thwarted +nature, can affect the truth of this.</p> + +<p>In the skies, the gray clouds were gathering swiftly, as always in the +mountains. The rain-drops were falling one and one, over the forest. The +summer was done, and fall had come in earnest.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIIIB" id="VIIIB"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p>The rains fell unceasingly for seven days: not a downpour but a constant +drizzle that made the distant ridges smoke. The parched earth seemed to +smack its lips, and little rivulets began to fall and tumble over the +beds of the dry streams. The Rogue and the Umpqua flooded and the great +steelhead began to ascend their smaller tributaries. Whisperfoot hunted +with ease, for the wet shrubbery did not crack and give him away. The +air was filled with the call of the birds of passage.</p> + +<p>All danger of forest fire was at once removed, and Snowbird was no +longer needed as a lookout on old Bald Mountain. She went to her own +home, her companion back to the valley; and now that his sister had +taken his place as housekeeper, Bill had gone down to the lower +foothills with a great part of the live stock. Dan spent these rainy +days in toil on the hillsides, building himself physically so that he +might pay his debts.</p> + +<p>It was no great pleasure, these rainy days. He would have greatly liked +to have lingered in the square mountain house, listening to the quiet +murmur of the rain on the roof and watching Snowbird at her household +tasks. She could, as her father had said, make a biscuit. She could also +roll up sleeves over trim, brown arms and with entire good humor do a +week's laundry for three hardworking men. He would have liked to sit +with her, through the long afternoons, as she knitted beside the +fireplace—to watch the play of her graceful fingers and perhaps, now +and then, to touch her hands when he held the skeins. But none of these +things transpired. He drove himself from daylight till dark, developing +his body for the tests that were sure to come.</p> + +<p>The first few days nearly killed him. He over-exercised in the chill +rain, and one anxious night he developed all the symptoms of pneumonia. +Such a sickness would have been the one thing needed to make the +doctor's prophecy come true. But with Snowbird's aid, and numerous hot +drinks, he fought it off.</p> + +<p>She had made him go to bed, and no human memory could be so dull as to +forget the little, whispered message that she gave him with his last +spoonful of medicine. She said she'd pray for him, and she meant it +too,—literal, entreating prayer that could not go unheard. She was a +mountain girl, and her beliefs were those of her ancestors,—simple and +true and wholly without affectation. But he hadn't relaxed thereafter. +He knew the time had come to make the test. Night after night he would +go to bed half-sick from fatigue, but the mornings would find him fresh. +And after two weeks, he knew he had passed the crisis and was on the +direct road to complete recovery.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he cut wood in the forest: first the felling of some tall +pine, then the trimming and hewing into two-foot lengths. The blisters +came on his hands, broke and bled, but finally hardened into +callosities. He learned the most effective stroke to hurl a shower of +chips from beneath the blade. His back and limbs hardened from the +handling of heavy wood—and the cough was practically gone.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he mended fences and did other manual labor about the ranch; +but not all his exercise was taken out in work. He didn't forget his +friends in the forest, creatures of talon and paw and wing. He spent +long days roaming the ridges and fighting through the buckbrush, and the +forest yielded up its secrets, one by one. But he knew that no mortal +span of years was long enough to absorb them all. Sometimes he shot +ducks over the marshes; and there was no greater sport for him in the +wilds than the first sight of a fine, black-pencil line upon the +distant sky, the leap through the air that it made until, in an +instant's flash, it evolved into a flock of mallard passing with the +wind; and then the test of eye and nerve as he saw them over the sights.</p> + +<p>His frame filled out. His face became swarthy from constant exposure. He +gained in weight. A month glided by, and he began to see the first +movement of the largest forest creatures down to the foothills. For not +even the animals, with the exception of the hardy wolf pack, can survive +if unprotected from the winter snow and cold of the high levels. The +first snow sifted from the gray sky and quickly melted on the wet pine +needles. And then the migration of the deer began in earnest. Before +another week was done, Whisperfoot had cause to marvel where they had +all gone.</p> + +<p>One cloudy afternoon in early November found Silas Lennox cutting wood +on the ridge behind his house. It was still an open question with him +whether he and his daughter would attempt to winter on the Divide. Dan +of course wanted to remain, yet there were certain reasons, some very +definite and others extremely vague, why the prospect of the winter in +the snow fields did not appeal to the mountaineer. In the first place, +all signs pointed to a hard season. Although the fall had come late, +the snows were exceptionally early. The duck flight was completed two +weeks before its usual time, and the rodents had dug their burrows +unusually deep. Besides, too many months of snow weigh heavily upon the +spirit. The wolf packs sing endlessly on the ridges, and many unpleasant +things may happen. On previous years, some of the cabins on the ridges +below had human occupants; this winter the whole region, for nearly +seventy miles across the mountains to the foothills, would be wholly +deserted by human beings. Even the ranger station, twelve miles across a +steep ridge, would soon be empty. Of course a few ranchers had homes a +few miles beyond the river, but the wild cataracts did not freeze in the +coldest of seasons, and there were no bridges. Besides, most of the more +prosperous farmers wintered in the valleys. Only a few more days would +the road be passable for his car; and no time must be lost in making his +decision.</p> + +<p>Once the snows came in reality, there was nothing to do but stay. +Seventy miles across the uncharted ridges on snowshoes is an undertaking +for which even a mountaineer has no fondness. It might be the wisest +thing, after all, to load Snowbird and Dan into his car and drive down +to the valleys. The fall round-up would soon be completed, Bill would +return for a few days from the valleys with new equipment to replace the +broken lighting system on the car, and they could avoid the bitter cold +and snow that Lennox had known so long. Of course he would miss it +somewhat. He had a strong man's love for the endless drifts, the +crackling dawns and the hushed, winter forest wherein not even Woof or +Whisperfoot dares to go abroad. He chopped at a great log and wondered +what would suit him better,—the comfort and safety of the valleys or +the rugged glory of the ridges.</p> + +<p>But at that instant, the question of whether or not he would winter on +the Divide was decided for him. And an instant was all that was needed. +For the period of one breath he forgot to be watchful,—and a certain +dread Spirit that abides much in the forest saw its chance. Perhaps he +had lived too long in the mountains and grown careless of them: an +attitude that is usually punished with death. He had just felled a tree, +and the trunk was still attached to the stump by a stripe of bark to +which a little of the wood adhered. He struck a furious blow at it with +his ax.</p> + +<p>He hadn't considered that the tree lay on a steep slope. As the blade +fell, the great trunk simply seemed to leap. Lennox leaped too, in a +frenzied effort to save his life; but already the leafy bows, like the +tendrils of some great amphibian, had whipped around his legs. He fell, +struggling; and then a curious darkness, streaked with flame, dropped +down upon him.</p> + +<p>An hour later he found himself lying on the still hillside, knowing only +a great wonderment. At first his only impulse was to go back to sleep. +He didn't understand the grayness that had come upon the mountain world, +his own strange feeling of numbness, of endless soaring through infinite +spaces. But he was a mountain man, and that meant he was schooled, +beyond all things, to keep his self-control. He made himself remember. +It was the cruelest work he had ever done, and it seemed to him that his +brain would shiver to pieces from the effort. Yes—he had been cutting +wood on the hillside, and the shadows had been long. He had been +wondering whether or not they should go down to the valleys.</p> + +<p>He remembered now: the last blow and the rolling log. He tried to turn +his head to look up to the hill.</p> + +<p>He found himself wholly unable to do it. Something wracked him in his +neck when he tried to move. But he did glance down. And yes, he could +turn in this direction. And he saw the great tree trunk lying twenty +feet below him, wedged in between the young pines.</p> + +<p>He was surrounded by broken fragments of limbs, and it was evident that +the tree had not struck him a full blow. The limbs had protected him to +some extent. No man is of such mold as to be crushed under the solid +weight of the trunk and live to remember it. He wondered if this were +the frontier of death,—the grayness that lingered over him. He seemed +to be soaring.</p> + +<p>He brought himself back to earth and tried again to remember. Of course, +the twilight had fallen. It had been late afternoon when he had cut the +tree. His hand stole along his body; and then, for the first time, a +hideous sickness came upon him. His hand was warm and wet when he +brought it up. The other hand he couldn't stretch at all.</p> + +<p>The forest was silent around him, except a bird calling somewhere near +the house—a full voice, rich and clear, and it seemed to him that it +had a quality of distress. Then he recognized it. It was the voice of +his own daughter, Snowbird, calling for him. He tried to answer her.</p> + +<p>It was only a whisper, at first. Yet she was coming nearer; and her own +voice sounded louder. "Here, Snowbird," he called again. She heard him +then: he could tell by the startled tone of her reply. The next instant +she was at his side, her tears dropping on his face.</p> + +<p>With a tremendous effort of will, he recalled his speeding faculties. "I +don't think I'm badly hurt," he told her very quietly. "A few ribs +broken—and a leg. But we'll have to winter here on the Divide, Snowbird +mine."</p> + +<p>"What does it matter, if you live," she cried. She crawled along the +pine needles beside him, and tore his shirt from his breast. He was +rapidly sinking into unconsciousness. The thing she dreaded most—that +his back might be broken—was evidently not true. There were, as he +said, broken ribs and evidently one severe fracture of the leg bone. +Whether he had sustained internal injuries that would end his life +before the morning, she had no way of knowing.</p> + +<p>At that point, the problem of saving her father's life fell wholly into +her hands. It was perfectly plain that he could not aid himself in the +slightest way. It was evident, also, he could not be moved, except +possibly for the distance to the house. She banished all impulse toward +hysteria and at once began to consider all phases of the case.</p> + +<p>His broken body could not be carried over the mountain road to +physicians in the valleys. They must be transported to the ranch. It +would take them a full day to make the trip, even if she could get word +to them at once; and twenty-four hours without medical attention would +probably cost her father his life. The nearest telephone was at the +ranger station, twelve miles distant over a mountain trail. The +telephone line to Bald Mountain, four miles off, had been disconnected +when the rains had ended the peril of the forest fire.</p> + +<p>It all depended upon her. Bill was driving cattle into the valleys, and +he and his men had in use all the horses on the ranch with one +exception. The remaining horse had been ridden by Dan to some distant +marshes, and as Dan would shoot until sunset, that meant he would not +return until ten o'clock. There was no road for a car to the ranger +station, only a rough steep trail, and she remembered, with a sinking +heart, that one of Bill's missions in the valley was to procure a new +lighting system. By no conceivable possibility could she drive down that +mountain road in the darkness. But she was somewhat relieved by the +thought that in all probability she could walk twelve miles across the +mountains to the ranger station in much less time than she could drive, +by automobile, seventy miles down to the ranches at the foothills about +the valley.</p> + +<p>Besides, she remembered with a gladdening heart that Richards, one of +the rangers, had been a student at a medical college and had taken a +position with the Forest Service to regain his health. She would cross +the ridge to the station, 'phone for a doctor in the valleys, and would +return on horseback with Richards for such first aid as he could give. +The only problem that remained was that of getting her father into the +house.</p> + +<p>He was stirring a little now. Evidently consciousness was returning to +him. And then she thanked Heaven for the few simple lessons in first aid +that her father had taught her in the days before his carelessness had +come upon him. He had been wise enough to know that rare would be her +fortune if sometime she did not have need of such knowledge.</p> + +<p>One of his lessons had been that of carrying an unconscious human +form,—a method by which even a woman may carry, for a short distance, a +heavy man. It was approximately the method used in carrying wounded in +No Man's Land: the body thrown over the shoulders, one arm through the +fork of the legs to the wounded man's hand. Her father was not a +particularly heavy man, and she was an exceptionally strong young woman. +She knew at once that this problem was solved.</p> + +<p>The hardest part was lifting him to her shoulders. Only by calling upon +her last ounce of strength, and tugging upward with her arms, was she +able to do it. But it was fairly easy, in her desperation, to carry him +down the hill. What rest she got she took by leaning against a tree, the +limp body still across her shoulders.</p> + +<p>It was a distance of one hundred yards in all. No muscles but those +trained by the outdoors, no lungs except those made strong by the +mountain air, could have stood that test. She laid him on his own bed, +on the lower floor, and set his broken limbs the best she could. She +covered him up with thick, fleecy blankets, and set a bottle of whisky +beside the bed. Then she wrote a note to Dan and fastened it upon one of +the interior doors.</p> + +<p>She had learned, long ago, the value of frequent rests. She did not fly +at once to her long tramp. For three minutes she lay perfectly limp on +the fireplace divan, resting from the exertion of carrying her father +down the hill. Then she drew on her hob-nailed boots—needed sorely for +the steep climb—and pocketed her pistol. She thrust a handful of jerked +venison into the pocket of her coat and lighted the lantern. The forest +night had fallen, soft and vibrant and tremulous, over the heads of the +dark trees when she started out.</p> + +<p>Far away on a distant hillside, Whisperfoot the cougar howled and +complained because he could find no deer.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IXB" id="IXB"></a>IX</h2> + + +<p>Snowbird felt very glad of her intimate, accurate knowledge of the whole +region of the Divide. In her infancy the winding trails had been her +playground, and long ago she had acquired the mountaineer's sixth sense +for traversing them at night. She had need of that knowledge now. The +moon was dim beneath thin clouds, and the lantern she carried did not +promise much aid. The glass was rather smoked from previous burnings, +and its flame glowed dully and threatened to go out altogether. It cast +a few lame beams on the trail beneath her feet; but they perished +quickly in the expanse of darkness.</p> + +<p>She slipped into her free, swinging stride; and the last beams from the +windows of the house were soon lost in the pines behind her. It was one +of those silent, breathless nights with which no mountaineer is entirely +unacquainted, and for a long tune the only sound she could hear was her +own soft tramp in the pine needles. The trees themselves were +motionless. That peculiar sound, not greatly different from that of +running water which the wind often makes in the pine tops, was entirely +lacking. Not that she could be deceived by it,—as stories tell that +certain tenderfeet, dying of thirst in the barren hills, have been. But +she always liked the sound; and she missed it especially to-night.</p> + +<p>She felt that if she would stop to listen, there would be many faint +sounds in the thickets,—those little hushed noises that the wild things +make to remind night-wanderers of their presence. But she did not in the +least care to hear these sounds. They do not tend toward peace of mind +on a long walk over the ridges.</p> + +<p>The wilderness began at once. Whatever influence toward civilization her +father's house had brought to the wilds chopped off as beneath a blade +in the first fringe of pines. This is altogether characteristic of the +Oregon forests. They are much too big and too old to be tamed in any +large degree by the presence of one house. No one knew this fact better +than Lennox himself who, in a hard winter of four years before, had +looked out of his window to find the wolf pack ranged in a hungry circle +about his house. Within two hundred yards after she had passed through +her father's door, she was perfectly aware that the wild was stirring +and throbbing with life about her. At first she tried very hard to think +of other things. But the attempt wasn't entirely a success. And before +she had covered the first of the twelve miles, the sounds that from the +first had been knocking at the door of her consciousness began to make +an entrance.</p> + +<p>If a person lies still long enough, he can usually hear his heart +beating and the flow of his blood in his arteries. Any sound, no matter +how faint, will make itself heard at last. It was this way with a very +peculiar noise that crept up through the silence from the trail behind +her. She wouldn't give it any heed at first. But in a very little while +indeed, it grew so insistent that she could no longer disregard it.</p> + +<p>Some living creature was trotting along on the trail behind, keeping +approximately the same distance between them.</p> + +<p>Foregoing any attempt to ignore it, she set her cool young mind to +thinking what manner of beast it might be. Its step was not greatly +different from that of a large dog,—except possibly a dog would have +made slightly more noise. Yet she couldn't even be sure of this basic +premise, because this animal, whatever it might be, had at first +seemingly moved with utmost caution, but now took less care with its +step than is customary with the wild denizens of the woods. A wolf, for +instance, can simply drift when it wishes, and the silence of a cougar +is a name. Yet unless her pursuer were a dog, which seemed entirely +unlikely, it was certainly one of these two. She would have liked very +much to believe the step was that of Old Woof, the bear, suddenly +curious as to what this dim light of hers might be; but she couldn't +bring herself to accept the lie. Woof, except when wounded or cornered, +is the most amiable creature in the Oregon woods, and it would give her +almost a sense of security to have him waddling along behind her. The +wolves and cougar, remembering the arms of Woof, would not be nearly so +curious. But unfortunately, the black bear had never done such a thing +in the memory of man, and if he had, he would have made six times as +much noise. He can go fairly softly when he is stalking, but when he is +obliged to trot—as he would be obliged to do to keep up with a +swift-walking human figure—he cracks twigs like a rolling log. She had +the impression that the animal behind had been passing like smoke at +first, but wasn't taking the trouble to do it now.</p> + +<p>The sound was a soft <i>pat-pat</i> on the trail,—sometimes entirely +obliterated but always recurring when she began to believe that she had +only fancied its presence. Sometimes a twig, rain-soaked though it was, +cracked beneath a heavy foot, and again and again she heard the brush +crushing and rustling as something passed through. Behind it all, a +weird <i>motif</i>, remained the <i>pat-pat</i> of cushioned feet. Sometimes, when +the trail was covered with soft pine needles, it was practically +indistinguishable. She had to strain to hear it,—and it is not pleasing +to the spirit to have to strain to hear any sound. On the bare, +rain-packed earth, even untrained plainsmen's ears could not possibly +doubt the reality of the sound.</p> + +<p>The animal was approximately one hundred feet behind. It wasn't a wolf, +she thought. The wolves ran in packs this season, and except in winter +were more afraid of human beings than any other living creature. It +wasn't a lynx—one of those curiosity-devoured little felines that will +mew all day on a trail and never dare come near. It was much too large +for a lynx. The feet fell too solidly. She had already given up the idea +that it could be Woof. There were no dogs in the mountains to follow at +heel; and she had no desire whatever to meet Shag, the faithful hybrid +that used to be her guardian in the hills. For Shag had gone to his +well-deserved rest several seasons before. Two other possibilities +remained. One was that this follower was a human being, the other that +it was a cougar.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily a human being is much more potentially dangerous to a woman +in the hills at night than a cougar. A cougar is an abject coward and +some men are not. But Snowbird felt herself entirely capable of handling +any human foes. They would have no advantage over her; they would have +no purpose in killing from ambush; and she trusted to her own +marksmanship implicitly. While it is an extremely difficult thing to +shoot at a cougar leaping from the thicket, a tall man standing on a +trail presents an easy target. Besides, she had a vague sense of +discomfort that if this animal were a cougar, he wasn't acting true to +form. He was altogether too bold.</p> + +<p>She knew perfectly that many times since men came to live in the +pine-clad mountains they have been followed by the great, tawny cats. +Curiosity had something to do with it, and perhaps less pleasing +reasons. But any dreadful instincts that such a cat may have, he utterly +lacks courage to obey. He has an inborn fear of men, a fear that goes +down to the roots of the world, and he simply doesn't dare make an +attack. It was always a rather distressing experience, but nothing ever +came of it except a good tale around a fireside. But most of these +episodes, Snowbird remembered, occurred either in daylight or in the dry +season. The reason was obviously that in the damp woods or at night a +stalking cougar cannot be perceived by human senses. Her own senses +could perceive this animal all too plainly,—and the fact suggested +unpleasant possibilities.</p> + +<p>The animal on the trail behind her was taking no care at all to go +silently. He was simply pat-patting along, wholly at his ease. He acted +as if the fear that men have instilled in his breed was somehow missing. +And that is why she instinctively tried to hurry on the trail.</p> + +<p>The step kept pace. For a long mile, up a barren ridge, she heard every +step it made. Then, as the brush closed deeper around her, she couldn't +hear it at all.</p> + +<p>She hurried on, straining to the silence. No, the sound was stopped. +Could it be that the animal, fearful at last, had turned from her trail? +And then for the first time a gasp that was not greatly different from a +despairing sob caught at her throat. She heard the steps again, and they +were in the thickets just beside her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two hours before Snowbird had left the house, on her long tramp to the +ranger station, Dan had started home. He hadn't shot until sunset, as he +had planned. The rear guard of the waterfowl—hardy birds who spent most +of the winter in the Lake region and which had come south in the great +flight that had been completed some weeks before—had passed in hundreds +over his blind, and he had obtained the limit he had set upon +himself—ten drake mallards—by four o'clock in the afternoon. If he had +stayed to shoot longer, his birds would have been wasted. So he started +back along a certain winding trail that led through the thickets and +which would, if followed long enough, carry him to the road that led to +the valleys.</p> + +<p>He rode one of Lennox's cattle ponies, the only piece of horse-flesh +that Bill had not taken to the valleys when he had driven down the +livestock. She was a pretty bay, a spirited, high-bred mare that could +whip about on her hind legs at the touch of the rein on her neck. She +made good time along the trail. And an hour before sunset he passed the +only human habitation between the marsh and Lennox's house,—the cabin +that had been recently occupied by Landy Hildreth.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the place as he passed and saw that it was deserted. No +smell of wood smoke remained in the air. Evidently Landy had gone down +to the settlements with his precious testimony in regard to the arson +ring. Yet it was curious that no word had been heard of him. As far as +Dan knew, neither the courts nor the Forest Service had taken action.</p> + +<p>He hurried on, four miles farther. The trail entered the heavy thickets, +and he had to ride slowly. It was as wild a section as could be found on +the whole Divide. Once a deer leaped from the trail, and once he heard +Woof grunting in the thickets. And just as he came to a little cleared +space, three strange, dark birds flung up on wide-spreading wings.</p> + +<p>He knew them at once. All mountaineers come to know them before their +days are done. They were the buzzards, the followers of the dead. And +what they were doing in the thicket just beside the trail, Dan did not +dare to think.</p> + +<p>Of course they might be feeding on the body of a deer, mortally wounded +by some hunter. He resolved to ride by without investigating. He glanced +up. The buzzards were hovering in the sky, evidently waiting for him to +pass. Then, mostly to relieve a curious sense of discomfort in his own +mind, he stopped his horse and dismounted.</p> + +<p>The twilight had started to fall, and already its first grayness had +begun to soften the harder lines of forest and hill. And after his +first glance at the curious white heap beside the trail, he was +extremely glad that it had. But there was no chance to mistake the +thing. The elements and much more terrible agents had each wrought their +change, yet there was grisly evidence in plenty to show what had +occurred. Dan didn't doubt for an instant but that it was the skeleton +of Landy Hildreth.</p> + +<p>He forced himself to go nearer. The buzzards were almost done, and one +white bone from the shoulder gave unmistakable evidence of the passage +of a bullet. What had happened thereafter, he could only guess.</p> + +<p>He got back quickly on his horse. He understood, now, why nothing had +been heard of the evidence that Landy Hildreth was to turn over to the +courts as to the activities of the arson ring. Some one—probably Bert +Cranston himself—had been waiting on the trail. Others had come +thereafter. And his lips set in his resolve to let this murder measure +in the debt he had to pay Cranston.</p> + +<p>The Lennox house seemed very silent when, almost an hour later, he +turned his horse into the corral. He had rather hoped that Snowbird +would be at the door to meet him. The darkness had just fallen, and all +the lamps were lighted. He strode into the living room, warming his +hands an instant beside the fireplace. The fire needed fuel. It had +evidently been neglected for nearly an hour.</p> + +<p>Then he called Snowbird. His voice echoed in the silent room, +unanswered. He called again, then went to look for her. At the door of +the dining room he found the note that she had left for him.</p> + +<p>It told, very simply and plainly, that her father lay injured in his +bed, and he was to remain and do what he could for him. She had gone for +help to the ranger station.</p> + +<p>He leaped through the rooms to Lennox's door, then went in on tiptoe. +And the first thing he saw when he opened the door was the grizzled +man's gray face on the pillow.</p> + +<p>"You're home early, Dan," he said. "How many did you get?"</p> + +<p>It was entirely characteristic. Shaggy old Woof is too proud to howl +over the wounds that lay him low, and this gray old bear on the bed had +partaken of his spirit.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord," Dan answered. "How badly are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Not so bad but that I'm sorry that Snowbird has gone drifting twelve +miles over the hills for help. It's dark as pitch."</p> + +<p>And it was. Dan could scarcely make out the outline of the somber ridges +against the sky.</p> + +<p>They talked on, and their subject was whether Dan should remain to take +care of Lennox, or whether he should attempt to overtake Snowbird with +the horse. Of course the girl had ordered him to stay. Lennox, on the +other hand, said that Dan could not help him in the least, and desired +him to follow the girl.</p> + +<p>"I'm not often anxious about her," he said slowly. "But it is a long +walk through the wildest part of the Divide. She's got nothing but a +pistol and a lantern that won't shine. Besides—I've had bad dreams."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean—" Dan's words came hard—"that she's in any danger from +the animals—the cougars—or the wolves?"</p> + +<p>"Barring accidents, no. But, Dan—I want you to go. I'm resting fairly +easily, and there's whisky on the table in case of a pinch. Someway—I +can't bar accidents to-night. I don't like to think of her on those +mountains alone."</p> + +<p>And remembering what had lain beside the trail, Dan felt the same. He +had heard, long ago, that any animal that has once tasted human flesh +loses its fear of men and is never to be trusted again. Some wild animal +that still hunted the ridges had, in the last month, done just that +thing. He left the room and walked softly to the door.</p> + +<p>The night lay silent and mysterious over the Divide. He stood listening. +The girl had started only an hour before, and it was unlikely that she +could have traversed more than two miles of the steep trail in that +time. He could fancy her toiling ever upward, somewhere on the dark +ridge that lay beyond. Although the horse ordinarily did not climb a +hill more swiftly than a human being, he didn't doubt but that he could +overtake her before she went three miles farther. But where lay his +duty,—with the injured man in the house or with the daughter on her +errand of mercy in the darkness?</p> + +<p>Then the matter was decided for him. So faint that it only whispered at +the dim, outer frontiers of hearing, a sound came pricking through the +darkness. Only his months of listening to the faint sounds of the +forest, and the incredible silence of the night enabled him to hear it +at all. But he knew what it was, the report of a pistol. Snowbird had +met an enemy in the darkness.</p> + +<p>He called once to Lennox, snatched the shotgun that still stood where he +had placed it in the corner of the room, and hastened to the corral. The +mare whickered plaintively when he took her from her food.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XB" id="XB"></a>X</h2> + + +<p>Even in the darkest night, there is one light that never brings hope or +cannot lead. It is not a twinkling, joyous light like that mysterious +will-o'-the-wisp that now and again has lured travelers into the marshes +to their death. Nor can any one ever mistake it, or be soothed and +cheered by it. It always appears the same way,—two green circles, close +together, in the darkness.</p> + +<p>When Snowbird first heard the step in the thickets beside her, she +halted bravely and held her lantern high. She understood at last. The +very extremity of the beams found a reflection in two very curious +circles of greenish fire: a fire that was old upon the world before man +ever rubbed two sticks together to strike a flame. Of course the dim +rays had simply been reflected on the eyes of some great beast of prey.</p> + +<p>She identified it at once. Only the eyes of the felines, with vertical +pupils, have this identical greenish glare. The eyes of the wolves glow +in the darkness, but the circles are usually just bright points. Of +course it was a cougar.</p> + +<p>She didn't cry out again. Realizing at last the reality of her peril, +her long training in the mountains came to her aid. That did not mean +she was not truly and terribly afraid. The sight of the eyes of a +hunting animal in the darkness calls up memories from the +germ-plasm,—deep-buried horrors of thousands of generations past, when +such lights glowed all about the mouth of the cave. Besides, the beast +was hunting <i>her</i>. She couldn't doubt this fact. Curiosity might make a +lion follow her, but it would never beget such a wild light of madness +in his eyes as this she had just seen. Only the frenzied pulse of wild +blood through the fine vessels of the corneas could occasion such a glow +as this. She simply clamped down all her moral strength on her rising +hysteria and looked her situation in the face. Her hand flew +instinctively to her side, and the pistol leaped in the lantern light.</p> + +<p>But the eyes had already blinked out before she could raise the weapon. +She shot twice. The echoes roared back, unbelievably loud in the +silence, and then abruptly died; and the only sound was a rustling of +leaves as the cougar crouched. She sobbed once, then hurried on.</p> + +<p>She was afraid to listen at first. She wanted to believe that her pistol +fire would frighten the animal from her trail. She knew, under ordinary +conditions, that it would. If he still followed, it could mean but one +thing,—that some unheard-of incident had occurred to destroy his fear +of men. It would mean that he had knowingly set upon her trail and was +hunting her with all the age-old remorselessness that is the code of the +mountains.</p> + +<p>For a little while all was silence. Then out of the hush the thickets +suddenly crashed and shook on the opposite side of the trail. She fired +blindly into the thicket. Then she caught herself with a sob. But two +shells remained in her pistol, and they must be saved for the test.</p> + +<p>Whisperfoot the cougar, remembering the lessons of his youth, turned +from the trail when he had first heard Snowbird's step. He had crouched +and let her pass. She was walking into the wind; and as she was at the +closest point a message had blown back to him.</p> + +<p>The hair went straight on his shoulders and along his spine. His blood, +running cold an instant before from fear, made a great leap in his +veins. A picture came in his dark mind: the chase for a deer when the +moon had set, the stir of a living thing that broke twigs in the +thickets, and the leap he had made. There had been blood, that +night,—the wildness and the madness and the exultation of the kill. Of +course there had been terror first, but the terror had soon departed and +left something lying warm and still in the thickets. It was the same +game that walked his trail in front—game that died easily and yet, in a +vague way he did not understand, the noblest game of all. It was living +flesh, to tear with talon and fang.</p> + +<p>All his training, all the instincts imbued in him by a thousand +generations of cougars who knew this greatest fear, were simply +obliterated by the sudden violence of his hunting-madness. He had tasted +this blood once, and it could never be forgotten. The flame leaped in +his eyes. And then he began the stalk.</p> + +<p>A cougar, trying to creep silently on its game, does not move quickly. +It simply steals, as a serpent steals through the grass. Whisperfoot +stalked for a period of five minutes, to learn that the prey was farther +away from him at every step.</p> + +<p>He trotted forward until he came close, and again he stalked. Again he +found, after a few minutes of silent creeping through the thickets, that +he had lost distance. Evidently this game did not feed slowly, like the +deer. It was to be a chase then. Again he trotted within one hundred +feet of the girl.</p> + +<p>Three times more he tried to stalk before he finally gave it up +altogether. This game was like the porcupine,—simply to be chased down +and taken. As in the case of all animals that hunt their game by +overtaking it, there was no longer any occasion for going silently. The +thing to do was to come close and spring from the trail behind.</p> + +<p>Though the fear was mostly gone, the cougar retained enough of that +caution that most wild animals exhibit when hunting a new game so that +he didn't attempt to strike Snowbird down at once. But as the chase went +on, his passion grew upon him. Ever he crept nearer. And at last he +sprang full into the thickets beside her.</p> + +<p>At that instant she had shot for the first time. Because the light had +left his eyes before she could find aim, both shots had been clean +misses. And terrible as the reports were, he was too engrossed in the +chase to be frightened away by mere sound. This was the cry the man-pack +always made,—these sudden, startling sounds in the silence. But he felt +no pain. He crouched a moment, shivering. Then he bounded on again.</p> + +<p>The third shot was a miss too: in fact, there had been no chance for a +hit. A sound in the darkness is as unreliable a target as can possibly +be imagined. And it didn't frighten him as much as the others.</p> + +<p>Three times he crouched, preparing for a spring, and three times his +tawny tail began that little up-and-down motion that is always the +warning before his leap. But each time, as he waited to find his +courage, the game had hurried on.</p> + +<p>Now she had her back to a tree and was holding the lantern high. It +glinted on his eyes. And the fourth time she shot, and something hot and +strange singed by close to his head. But it wasn't the pain of one quill +from a porcupine, and it only increased his anger. He waited, crouching, +and the girl started on.</p> + +<p>She was making other sounds now—queer, whimpering sounds not greatly +different from the bleat that the fawn utters when it dies. It was a +fear-sound, and if there is one emotion with which the wild beasts are +acquainted, in all its phases, it is fear. She was afraid of him then, +and that meant he need no longer be in the least afraid of her. His skin +began to twitch all over with that terrible madness and passion of the +flesh-hunters.</p> + +<p>This game was like the deer, and the thing to do was lie in wait. There +was only one trail. He was simply following his instincts, no conscious +intelligence, when he made a long circle about her and turned back to +the trail two hundred yards in front. He wasn't afraid of losing her in +the darkness. She was neither fleet like the deer nor courageous like +Woof, the bear. He had only to wait and leap from the darkness when she +passed.</p> + +<p>And because this was his own way of hunting, because the experiences of +a thousand generations of cougars had taught him that it was the safest +way, that even an elk may be downed by a surprise leap from ambush, the +last of his fear went out of him. The step drew nearer, and he knew he +would not again be afraid to give his stroke.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When Dan Failing, riding like mad over the mountain trail, heard the +third shot from Snowbird's pistol, he felt that one of the debts he owed +had come due at last. He seemed to know, as the darkness pressed around +him, that he was to be tried in the fire. And the horse staggered +beneath him as he tried to hasten.</p> + +<p>He showed no mercy to his mount. Horseflesh isn't made for carrying a +heavy man over such a trail as this, and she was red-nostriled and +lathered before half a mile had been covered. He made her leap up the +rocks, and on the fairly level stretches he loosed the reins and lashed +her into a gallop. Only a mountain horse could have stood that test. To +Dan's eyes, the darkness was absolute; yet she kept straight to the +trail. He made no attempt to guide her. She bounded over logs that he +couldn't see, and followed turn after turn in the trail without ever a +misstep.</p> + +<p>He gave no thought to his own safety. His courage was at the test, and +no risk of his own life must interfere with his attempt to save Snowbird +from the danger that threatened her. He didn't know when the horse would +fall with him and precipitate him down a precipice, and he was perfectly +aware that to crash into a low-hanging limb of one of the great trees +beside the trail would probably crush his skull. But he took the chance. +And before the ride was done he found himself pleading with the horse, +even as he lashed her sides with his whip.</p> + +<p>The lesser forest creatures sprang from his trail; and once the mare +leaped high to miss a dark shadow that crossed in front. As she caught +her stride, Dan heard a squeal and a rattle of quills that identified +the creature as a porcupine.</p> + +<p>By now he had passed the first of the worst grades, coming out upon a +long, easy slope of open forest. Again he urged his horse, leaving to +her keen senses alone the choosing of the path between the great tree +trunks. He rode almost in silence. The deep carpet of pine needles, wet +from the recent rains, dulled the sound of the horse's hoofs.</p> + +<p>Then he heard Snowbird fire for the fourth time; and he knew that he had +almost overtaken her. The report seemed to smash the air. And he lashed +his horse into the fastest run she knew,—a wild, sobbing figure in the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"She's only got one shot more," he said. He knew how many bullets her +pistol carried; and the danger—whatever it was—must be just at hand. +Underbrush cracked beneath him. And then the horse drew up with a jerk +that almost hurled him from the saddle.</p> + +<p>He lashed at her in vain. She was not afraid of the darkness and the +rocks of the trail, but some Terror in the woods in front had in an +instant broken his control over her. She reared, snorting; then danced +in an impotent circle. Meanwhile, precious seconds were fleeing.</p> + +<p>He understood now. The horse stood still, shivering beneath him, but +would not advance a step. The silence deepened. Somewhere in the +darkness before him a great cougar was waiting by the trail, and +Snowbird, hoping for the moment that it had given up the chase, was +hastening through the shadows squarely into its ambush.</p> + +<p>Whisperfoot crouched lower: and again his long serpent of a tail began +the little vertical motion that always precedes his leap. He had not +forgotten the wild rapture of that moment he had inadvertently sprung on +Landy Hildreth,—or how, after his terror had died, he had come creeping +back. He hunted his own way, waiting on the trail; and his madness was +at its height. He was not just Whisperfoot; the coward, that runs at the +shadow of a tall form in the thickets. The consummation was complete, +and that single experience of a month before had made of him a hunter of +men. His muscles set for the leap.</p> + +<p>So intent was he that his keen senses didn't detect the fact that there +was a curious echo to the girl's footsteps. Dan Failing had slipped down +from his terrified horse and was running up the trail behind her, +praying that he could be in time.</p> + +<p>Snowbird heard the pat, pat of his feet; but at first she did not dare +to hope that aid had come to her. She had thought of Dan as on the +far-away marshes; and her father, the only other living occupant of this +part of the Divide, might even now be lying dead in his house. In her +terror, she had lost all power of interpretation of events. The sound +might be the cougar's mate, or even the wolf pack, jealous of his game. +Sobbing, she hurried on into Whisperfoot's ambush.</p> + +<p>Then she heard a voice, and it seemed to be calling to her. +"Snowbird—I'm coming, Snowbird," a man's strong voice was shouting. She +whirled with a sob of thankfulness.</p> + +<p>At that instant the cougar sprang.</p> + +<p>Terrified though she was, Snowbird's reflexes had kept sure and true. +Even as the great cat leaped, a long, lithe shadow out of the shadow, +her finger pressed back against the trigger of her pistol. She had been +carrying her gun in front of her, and she fired it, this last time, with +no conscious effort. It was just a last instinctive effort to defend +herself.</p> + +<p>One other element affected the issue. She had whirled to answer Dan's +cry just as the cougar left the ground. But she had still been in range. +The only effect was to lessen, in some degree, the accuracy of the +spring. The bullet caught the beast in mid-air; but even if it had +reached its heart, the momentum of the attack was too great to be +completely overcome. Snowbird only knew that some vast, resistless power +had struck her, and that the darkness seemed to roar and explode about +her.</p> + +<p>Hurled to her face in the trail, she did not see the cougar sprawl on +the earth beside her. The flame in the lantern almost flicked out as it +fell from her hand, then flashed up and down, from the deepest gloom to +a vivid glare with something of the effect of lightning flickering in +the sky. Nor did she hear the first frenzied thrashing of the wounded +animal. Kindly unconsciousness had fallen, obscuring this and also the +sight of the great cat, in the agony of its wound, creeping with broken +shoulder and bared claws across the pine needles toward her defenseless +body.</p> + +<p>But the terrible fangs were never to know her white flesh. Some one had +come between. There was no chance to shoot: Whisperfoot and the girl +were too near together for that. But one course remained; and there was +not even time to count the cost. In this most terrible moment of Dan +Failing's life, there was not even an instant's hesitation. He did not +know that Whisperfoot was wounded. He saw the beast creeping forward in +the weird dancing light of the fallen lantern, and he only knew that his +flesh, not hers, must resist its rending talons. Nothing else mattered. +No other considerations could come between.</p> + +<p>It was the test; and Dan's instincts prompted coolly and well. He +leaped with all his strength. The cougar bounded into his arms, not upon +the prone body of the girl. And she opened her eyes to hear a curious +thrashing in the pine needles, a strange grim battle that, as the +lantern flashed out, was hidden in the darkness.</p> + +<p>And that battle, in the far reaches of the Divide, passed into a legend. +It was the tale of how Dan Failing, his gun knocked from his hands as he +met the cougar's leap, with his own unaided arms kept the life-giving +breath from the animal's lungs and killed him in the pine needles. Claw +and fang and the frenzy of death could not matter at all.</p> + +<p>Thus Failing established before all men his right to the name he bore. +And thus he paid one of his debts—life for a life, as the code of the +forest has always decreed—and in the fire of danger and pain his metal +was tried and proven.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_THREE" id="BOOK_THREE"></a>BOOK THREE</h2> + +<h3>THE PAYMENT</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IC" id="IC"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>The Lennox home, in the far wilderness of the Umpqua Divide, looked +rather like an emergency hospital for the first few days after Dan's +fight with Whisperfoot. Its old sounds of laughter and talk were almost +entirely lacking. Two injured men and a girl recovering from a nervous +collapse do not tend toward cheer.</p> + +<p>But the natural sturdiness of all three quickly came to their aid. Of +course Lennox had been severely injured by the falling log, and many +weeks would pass before he would be able to walk again. He could sit up +for short periods, however; had the partial use of one arm; and could +propel himself—after the first few weeks—at a snail's pace through the +rooms in a rude wheel chair that Bill's ingenuity had contrived. The +great livid scratches that Dan bore on his body quickly began to heal; +and before a week was done, he began to venture forth on the hills +again. Snowbird had remained in bed for three days: then she had hopped +out, one bright afternoon, swearing never to go back into it again. +Evidently the crisp, fall air of the mountains had been a nerve tonic +for them all.</p> + +<p>Of course there had been medical attention. A doctor and a nurse had +motored up the day after the accident; the physician had set the bones +and departed, and the nurse remained for a week, to see the grizzled +mountaineer well on the way of convalescence. But it was an anxious +wait, and Lennox's car was kept constantly in readiness to speed her +away in case the snows should start. At last she had left him in +Snowbird's hands, and Bill had driven her back to the settlements in his +father's car. The die was now cast as to whether or not Dan and the +remainder of the family should winter in the mountains. The snow clouds +deepened every day, the frost was ever heavier in the dawns, and the +road would surely remain open only a few days more.</p> + +<p>Once more the three seemingly had the Divide all to themselves. Bert +Cranston had evidently deserted his cabin and was working a trap-line on +the Umpqua side. The rangers left the little station, all danger of fire +past, and went down to their offices in the Federal building of one of +the little cities below. Because he was worse than useless in the deep +snows that were sure to come, one of the ranch hands that had driven up +with Bill rode away to the valleys the last of the live stock,—the +horse that Dan had ridden to Snowbird's defense.</p> + +<p>Nothing had been heard of Landy Hildreth, who used to live on the trail +to the marsh, and both Lennox and his daughter wondered why. There were +also certain officials who had begun to be curious. As yet, Dan had told +no one of the grim find he had made on his return from hunting. And he +would have found it an extremely difficult fact to explain.</p> + +<p>It all went back to those inner springs of motive that few men can see +clearly enough within themselves to recognize. Even the first day, when +he lay burning from his wounds, he worked out his own explanation in +regard to the murder mystery. He hadn't the slightest doubt but that +Cranston had killed Hildreth to prevent his testimony from reaching the +courts below. Of course any other member of the arson ring of hillmen +might have been the murderer; yet Dan was inclined to believe that +Cranston, the leader of the gang, usually preferred to do such dangerous +work as this himself. If it were true, somewhere on that tree-clad ridge +clues would be left. By a law that went down to the roots of life, he +knew, no action is so small but that it leaves its mark. Moreover, it +was wholly possible that the written testimony Hildreth must have +gathered had never been found or destroyed. Dan didn't want the aid of +the courts to find these clues. He wanted to work out the case himself. +It resolved itself into a simple matter of vengeance: Dan had his debt +to pay, and he wanted to bring Cranston to ruin by his own hand alone.</p> + +<p>While it was true that he took rather more than the casual interest that +most citizens feel in the destruction of the forest by wanton fire, and +had an actual sense of duty to do all that he could to stop the +activities of the arson ring, his motives, stripped and bare, were +really not utilitarian. He had no particular interest in Hildreth's +case. He remembered him simply as one of Cranston's disreputable gang, a +poacher and a fire bug himself. When all is said and done, it remained +really a personal issue between Dan and Cranston. And personal issues +are frowned upon by law and society. Civilization has toiled up from the +darkness in a great measure to get away from them. But human nature +remains distressingly the same, and Dan's desire to pay his debt was a +distinctly human emotion. Sometime a breed will live upon the earth that +can get clear away from personal vengeance—from that age-old code of +the hills that demands a blow for a blow and a life for a life—but the +time is not yet. And after all, by all the standards of men as men, not +as read in idealistic philosophies, Dan's debt was entirely real. By the +light held high by his ancestors, he could not turn his other cheek.</p> + +<p>Just as soon as he was able, he went back to the scene of the murder. He +didn't know when the snow would come to cover what evidence there was. +It threatened every hour. Every wind promised it. The air was sharp and +cold, and no drop of rain could fall through it without crystallizing +into snow. The deer had all gone, and the burrowing people had sought +their holes. The bees worked no more in the winter flowers. Of all the +greater forest creatures, only the wolves and the bear remained,—the +former because their fear of men would not permit them to go down to the +lower hills, and the latter because of his knowledge that when food +became scarce, he could always burrow in the snow. No bear goes into +hibernation from choice. Wise old bachelor, he much prefers to keep just +as late hours as he can—as long as the eating places in the berry +thickets remain open. The cougars had all gone down with the deer, the +migratory birds had departed, and even the squirrels were in hiding.</p> + +<p>The scene didn't offer much in the way of clues. Of the body itself, +only a white heap of bones remained; for many and terrible had been the +agents at work upon them. The clothes, however, particularly the coat, +were practically intact. Gripping himself, Dan thrust his fingers into +its pockets, then into the pockets of the shirt and trousers. All papers +that would in any way serve to identify the murdered man, or tell what +his purpose had been in journeying down the trail the night of the +murder had been removed. Only one explanation presented itself. Cranston +had come before him, and searched the body himself.</p> + +<p>Dan looked about for tracks, and he was considerably surprised to find +the blurred, indistinct imprint of a shoe other than his own. He hadn't +the least hope that the tracks themselves would offer a clue to a +detective. They were too dim for that. The surprising fact was that +since the murder had been committed immediately before the fall rains, +the water had not completely washed them out. The only possibility +remaining was that Cranston had returned to the body after the week's +rain-fall. The track had been dimmed by the lighter rains that had +fallen since.</p> + +<p>But yet it was entirely to be expected that the examination of the body +would be an after-thought on Cranston's part. Possibly at first his +only thought was to kill and, following the prompting that has sent so +many murderers to the gallows, he had afterwards returned to the scene +of the crime to destroy any clues he might have left and to search the +body for any evidence against the arson ring.</p> + +<p>Dan's next thought was to follow along the trail and find Cranston's +ambush. Of course it would be in the direction of the settlement from +the body, as the bullet had entered from the front. He found it hard to +believe that Hildreth had fallen in the exact spot where the body lay. +Men journeying at night keep to the trail, and the white heap itself was +fully forty feet back from the trail in the thickets. Perhaps Cranston +had dragged it there to hide it from the sight of any one who might pass +along the lonely trail again; and it was a remote possibility that +Whisperfoot, coming in the night, had tugged it into the thickets for +dreadful purposes of his own. Likely the shot was fired when Hildreth +was in an open place on the trail; and Dan searched for the ambush with +this conclusion in mind. He walked back, looking for a thicket from +which such a spot would be visible. Something over fifty yards down he +found it; and he knew it by the empty brass rifle cartridge that lay +half buried in the wet leaves.</p> + +<p>The shell was of the same caliber as Cranston's hunting rifle. Dan's +hand shook as he put it in his pocket.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by this amazing find, he turned up the trail toward +Hildreth's cabin. It might be possible, he thought, that Hildreth had +left some of his testimony—perhaps such rudely scrawled letters as +Cranston had written him—in some forgotten drawer in his hut. It was +but a short walk for Dan's hardened legs, and he made it before +mid-afternoon.</p> + +<p>The search itself was wholly without result. But because he had time to +think as he climbed the ridge, because as he strode along beneath that +wintry sky he had a chance to consider every detail of the case, he was +able to start out on a new tack when, just before sunset, he returned to +the body. This new train of thought had as its basis that Cranston's +shot had not been deadly at once; that wounded, Hildreth had himself +crawled into the thickets where Whisperfoot had found him. And that +meant that he had to enlarge his search for such documents as Hildreth +had carried to include all the territory between the trail and the +location of the body.</p> + +<p>It was possibly a distance of forty feet, and getting down on his hands +and knees, Dan looked for any break in the shrubbery that would +indicate the path that the wounded Hildreth had taken. And it was ten +minutes well rewarded, as far as clearing up certain details of the +crime. His senses had been trained and sharpened by his months in the +wilderness, and he was able to back-track the wounded man from the +skeleton clear to the clearing on the trail where he had first fallen. +But as no clues presented themselves, he started to turn home.</p> + +<p>He walked twelve feet, then turned back. Out of the corner of his eye it +seemed to him that he had caught a flash of white, near the end of a +great, dead log beside the path that the wounded Hildreth had taken. It +was to the credit of his mountain training alone that his eye had been +keen enough to detect it; that it had been so faithfully recorded on his +consciousness; and that, knowing at last the importance of details, he +had turned back. For a moment he searched in vain. Evidently a yellow +leaf had deceived him. Once more he retraced his steps, trying to find +the position from which his eye had caught the glimpse of white. Then he +dived straight for the rotten end of the log.</p> + +<p>Into a little hollow in the bark, on the underside of the log, some hand +had thrust a small roll of papers. They were rain soaked now, and the +ink had dimmed and blotted; but Dan realized their significance. They +were the complete evidence that Hildreth had accumulated against the +arson ring,—letters that had passed back and forth between himself and +Cranston, a threat of murder from the former if Hildreth turned State's +evidence, and a signed statement of the arson activities of the ring by +Hildreth himself. They were not only enough to break up the ring and +send its members to prison; with the aid of the empty shell and other +circumstantial evidence, they could in all probability convict Bert +Cranston of murder.</p> + +<p>For a long time he stood with the shadows of the pines lengthening about +him, his gray eyes in curious shadow. For the moment a glimpse was given +him into the deep wells of the human soul; and understanding came to +him. Was there no balm for hatred even in the moment of death? Were men +unable to forget the themes and motives of their lives, even when the +shadows closed down upon them? Hildreth had known what hand had struck +him down. And even on the frontier of death, his first thought was to +hide his evidence where Cranston could not find it when he searched the +body, but where later it might be found by the detectives that were sure +to come. It was the old creed of a life for a life. He wanted his +evidence to be preserved,—not that right should be wronged, but so that +Cranston would be prosecuted and convicted and made to suffer. His +hatred of Cranston that had made him turn State's evidence in the first +place had been carried with him down into death.</p> + +<p>As Dan stood wondering, he thought he heard a twig crack on the trail +behind him, and he wondered what forest creature was still lingering on +the ridges at the eve of the snows.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIC" id="IIC"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>The snow began to fall in earnest at midnight,—great, white flakes that +almost in an instant covered the leaves. It was the real beginning of +winter, and all living creatures knew it. The wolf pack sang to it from +the ridge,—a wild and plaintive song that made Bert Cranston, sleeping +in a lean-to on the Umpqua side of the Divide, swear and mutter in his +sleep. But he didn't really waken until Jim Gibbs, one of his gang, +returned from his secret mission.</p> + +<p>They wasted no words. Bert flung aside the blankets, lighted a candle, +and placed it out of the reach of the night wind. It cast queer shadows +in the lean-to and found a curious reflection in the steel points of his +eyes. His face looked swarthy and deep-lined in its light.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he demanded. "What did you find?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'," Jim Gibbs answered gutturally. "If you ask me what I found +<i>out</i>, I might have somethin' to answer."</p> + +<p>"Then—" and Bert, after the manner of his kind, breathed an oath—"what +did you find out?"</p> + +<p>His tone, except for an added note of savagery, remained the same. Yet +his heart was thumping a great deal louder than he liked to have it. He +wasn't amused by his associate's play on words. Nor did he like the +man's knowing tone and his air of importance. Realizing that the snows +were at hand, he had sent Gibbs for a last search of the body, to find +and recover the evidence that Hildreth had against him and which had not +been revealed either on Hildreth's person or in his cabin. He had become +increasingly apprehensive about those letters he had written Hildreth, +and certain other documents that had been in his possession. He didn't +understand why they hadn't turned up. And now the snows had started, and +Jim Gibbs had returned empty-handed, but evidently not empty-minded.</p> + +<p>"I've found out that the body's been uncovered—and men are already +searchin' for clues. And moreover—I think they've found them." He +paused, weighing the effect of his words. His eyes glittered with +cunning. Rat that he was, he was wondering whether the time had arrived +to leave the ship. He had no intention of continuing to give his +services to a man with a rope-noose closing about him. And Cranston, +knowing this fact, hated him as he hated the buzzard that would claim +him in the end and tried to hide his apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Go on. Blat it out," Cranston ordered. "Or else go away and let me +sleep."</p> + +<p>It was a bluff; but it worked. If Gibbs had gone without speaking, +Cranston would have known no sleep that night. But the man became more +fawning.</p> + +<p>"I'm tellin' you, fast as I can," he went on, almost whining. "I went to +the cabin, just as you said. But I didn't get a chance to search it—"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Cranston thundered. His voice reëchoed among the snow-wet +pines.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why! Because some one else—evidently a cop—was already +searchin' it. Both of us know there's nothin' there anyway. We've gone +over it too many times. After a while he went away—but I didn't turn +back yet. That wouldn't be Jim Gibbs. I shadowed him, just as you'd want +me to. And he went straight back to the body."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" Cranston had hard work curbing his impatience. Again Gibbs' eyes +were full of ominous speculations.</p> + +<p>"He stopped at the body, and it was plain he'd been there before. He +went crawling through the thickets, lookin' for clues. He done what you +and me never thought to do—lookin' all the way between the trail and +the body. He'd already found the brass shell you told me to get. At +least, it wasn't there when I looked, after he'd gone. You should've +thought of it before. But he found somethin' else a whole lot more +important—a roll of papers that Hildreth had chucked into an old pine +stump when he was dyin'. It was your fault, Cranston, for not gettin' +them that night. You needn't 've been afraid of any one hearin' the shot +and catching you red-handed. This detective stood and read 'em on the +trail. And you know—just as well as I do—what they were."</p> + +<p>"Damn you, I went back the next morning, as soon as I could see. And the +mountain lion had already been there. I went back lots of times since. +And that shell ain't nothing—but all the time I supposed I put it in my +pocket. You know how it is—a fellow throws his empty shell out by +habit."</p> + +<p>Gibbs' eyes grew more intent. What was this thing? Cranston's tone, +instead of commanding, was almost pleading. But the leader caught +himself at once.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why I need to explain any of that to you. What I want to +know is this: why you didn't shoot and get those papers away from him?"</p> + +<p>For an instant their eyes battled. But Gibbs had never the strength of +his leader. If he had, it would have been asserted long since. He sucked +in his breath, and his gaze fell away. It rested on Cranston's rifle, +that in some manner had been pulled up across his knees. And at once he +was cowed. He was never so fast with a gun as Cranston.</p> + +<p>"Blood on my hands, eh—same as on yours?" he mumbled, looking down. +"What do you think I want, a rope around my neck? These hills are big, +but the arm of the law has reached up before, and it might again. You +might as well know first as last I'm not goin' to do any killin's to +cover up your murders."</p> + +<p>"That comes of not going myself. You fool—if he gets that evidence down +to the courts, you're broken the same as me."</p> + +<p>"But I wouldn't get more'n a year or so, at most—and that's a heap +different from the gallows. I did aim at him—"</p> + +<p>"But you just lacked the guts to pull the trigger!"</p> + +<p>"I did, and I ain't ashamed of it. But besides—the snows are here now, +and he won't be able to even get word down to the valleys in six +months. If you want him killed so bad, do it yourself."</p> + +<p>This was a thought indeed. On the other hand, another murder might not +be necessary. Months would pass before the road would be opened, and in +the meantime Cranston could have a thousand chances to steal back the +accusing letters. Perhaps they would be guarded closely at first, but by +the late winter months they would be an old story, and a single raid on +the house might turn the trick. He didn't believe for an instant that +the man Gibbs had seen a detective. He had kept too close watch over the +roads for that.</p> + +<p>"A tall chap, in outing clothes—dark-haired and clean-shaven?"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Wears a tan hat?"</p> + +<p>"That's the man."</p> + +<p>"I know him—and I wish you'd punctured him. Why, you could've taken +those papers away from him and slapped his face, and he wouldn't have +put up his arms. And now he'll hide 'em somewhere—afraid to carry 'em +for fear he meets me. That's Failing—the tenderfoot that's been staying +at Lennox's. He's a lunger."</p> + +<p>"He didn't look like no lunger to me."</p> + +<p>"But no matter about that—it's just as I thought. And I'll get 'em +back—mark my little words."</p> + +<p>In the meantime the best thing to do was to move at once to his winter +trapping grounds,—a certain neglected region on the lower levels of the +North Fork. If at any time within the next few weeks, Dan should attempt +to carry word down to the settlements, he would be certain to pass +within view of this camp. But he knew that the chance of Dan starting +upon any such journey before the snow had melted was not one in a +thousand. To be caught in the Divide in the winter means to be snowed in +as completely as the Innuits of upper Greenland. No word could pass +except by a man on snowshoes. Really there was no urgency about this +matter of the evidence.</p> + +<p>Yet if the chance did come, if the house should be left unguarded, it +might play Cranston to make an immediate search. Dan would have no +reason for supposing that Cranston suspected his possession of the +letters; he would not be particularly watchful, and would probably +pigeonhole them until spring in Lennox's desk.</p> + +<p>And the truth was that Cranston had reasoned out the situation almost +perfectly. When Dan wakened in the morning, and the snow lay already a +foot deep over the wilderness world, he knew that he would have no +chance to act upon the Cranston case until the snows melted in the +spring. So he pushed all thought of it out of his mind and turned his +attention to more pleasant subjects. It was true that he read the +documents over twice as he lay in bed. Then he tied them into a neat +packet and put them away where they would be quickly available. Then he +thrust his head out of the window and let the great snowflakes sift down +upon his face. It was winter at last, the season that he loved.</p> + +<p>He didn't stir from the house, that first day of the storm. Snowbird and +he found plenty of pleasant things to do and talk about before the +roaring fire that he built in the grate. He was glad of the great pile +of wood that lay outside the door. It meant life itself, in this season. +Then Snowbird led him to the windows, and they watched the white drifts +pile up over the low underbrush.</p> + +<p>When finally the snowstorm ceased, five days later, the whole face of +the wilderness was changed. The buckbrush was mostly covered, the fences +were out of sight; the forest seemed a clear, clean sweep of white, +broken only by an occasional tall thicket and by the great, snow-covered +trees.</p> + +<p>When the clouds blew away, and the air grew clear, the temperature +began to fall. Dan had no way of knowing how low it went. Thermometers +were not considered essential at the Lennox home. But when his eyelids +congealed with the frost, and his mittens froze to the logs of firewood +that he carried through the door, and the pine trees exploded and +cracked in the darkness, he was correct in his belief that it was very, +very cold.</p> + +<p>But he loved the cold, and the silence and austerity that went with it. +The wilderness claimed him as never before. The rugged breed that were +his ancestors had struggled through such seasons as this and passed a +love of them down through the years to him.</p> + +<p>When the ice made a crust over the snow, he learned to walk on +snowshoes. At first there were pained ankles and endless floundering in +the drifts. But between the fall of fresh snow and the thaws that +softened the crust, he slowly mastered the art. Snowbird—and Dan never +realized the full significance of her name until he saw her flying with +incredible grace over the snow—laughed at him at first and ran him +races that would usually end in his falling head-first into a ten-foot +snowbank. She taught him how to ski and more than once she would stop in +the middle of an earnest bit of pedagogy to find that he wasn't +listening at all. He would seem to be fairly devouring her with his +eyes, delighting in the play of soft pinks and reds in her cheeks, and +drinking, as a man drinks wine, the amazing change of light and shadow +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>She seemed to blossom under his gaze. Not one of those short winter days +went by without the discovery of some new trait or little vanity to +astonish or delight him,—sometimes an unlooked-for tenderness toward +the weak, often a sweet, untainted philosophy of life, or perhaps just a +lowering of her eyelids in which her eyes would show lustrous through +the lashes, or some sweeping, exuberant gesture startlingly graceful.</p> + +<p>Lennox wakened one morning with the realization that this was one of the +hardest winters of his experience. More snow had fallen in the night and +had banked halfway up his windows. The last of the shrubbery—except for +the ends of a few tall bushes that would not hold the snow—was covered, +and the roofs of some of the lower outbuildings had somewhat the +impression of drowning things, striving desperately to keep their heads +above water. He began to be very glad of the abundant stores of +provisions that overcrowded his pantry—savory hams and bacons, dried +venison, sacks of potatoes and evaporated vegetables, and, of course, +canned goods past counting. With the high fire roaring in the grate, the +season held no ills for them. But sometimes, when the bitter cold came +down at twilight, and the moon looked like a thing of ice itself over +the snow, he began to wonder how the wild creatures who wintered on the +Divide were faring. Of course most of them were gone. Woof, long since, +had grunted and mumbled his way into a winter lair. But the wolves +remained, strange gray shadows on the snow, and possibly a few of the +hardier smaller creatures.</p> + +<p>More than once in those long winter nights their talk was chopped off +short by the song of the pack on some distant ridge. Sometime, when the +world is old, possibly a man will be born that can continue to talk and +keep his mind on his words while the wolf pack sings. But he is +certainly an unknown quantity to-day. The cry sets in vibration curious +memory chords, and for a moment the listener sees in his mind's eye his +ancient home in an ancient world,—Darkness and Fear and Eyes shining +about the cave. It carries him back, and he knows the wilderness as it +really is; and to have such knowledge dries up all inclination to talk, +as a sponge dries water. Of course the picture isn't entirely plain. It +is more a thing guessed at, a photograph in some dark part of an +under-consciousness that has constantly grown more dim as the centuries +have passed. Possibly sometime it will fade out altogether; and then a +man may continue to discuss the weather while the Song from the ridge +shudders in at the windows. But the world will be quite cold by then, +and no longer particularly interesting. And possibly even the wolves +themselves will then be tamed to play dead and speak pieces,—which +means the wilderness itself will be tamed. For as long as the wild +lasts, the pack will run through it in the winter. They were here in the +beginning, and in spite of constant war and constant hatred on the part +of men, they will be here in the end. The reason is just that they are +the symbol of the wilderness itself, and the idea of it continuing to +exist without them is stranger than that of a nation without a flag.</p> + +<p>It wasn't quite the same song that Dan had listened to in the first days +of fall. It had been triumphant then, and proud with the wilderness +pride. Of course it had been sad then, too, but it was more sad now. And +it was stranger, too, and crept farther into the souls of its listeners. +It was the song of strength that couldn't avail against the snow, +possibly of cold and the despair and courage of starvation. These three +that heard it were inured to the wilderness; but a moment was always +needed after its last note had died to regain their gayety.</p> + +<p>"They're getting lean and they're getting savage," Lennox said one +night, stretched on his divan before the fireplace. He was still unable +to walk; but the fractures were knitting slowly and the doctor had +promised that the summer would find him well. "If we had a dog, I +wouldn't offer much for his life. One of these days we'll find 'em in a +big circle around the house—and then we'll have to open up with the +rifles."</p> + +<p>But this picture appalled neither of his two young listeners. No wolf +pack can stand against three marksmen, armed with rifles and behind +oaken walls.</p> + +<p>Christmas came and passed, and January brought clear days and an +ineffective sun shining on the snow. These were the best days of all. +Every afternoon Dan and Snowbird would go out on their skis or on +snowshoes, unarmed except for the pistol that Snowbird carried in the +deep pocket of her mackinaw. "But why not?" Dan replied to Lennox's +objection. "She could kill five wolves with five shots, or pretty near +it, and you know well enough that that would hold 'em off till we got +home. They'd stop to eat the five. I have hard enough time keeping up +with her as it is, without carrying a rifle." And Lennox was content. +In the first place, the wolf pack has to be desperate indeed before it +will even threaten human beings; and knowing the coward that the wolf is +in the other three seasons, he couldn't bring himself to believe that +this point was reached. In the second, Dan had told the truth when he +said that five deaths, or even fewer, would repel the attack of any wolf +pack he had ever seen. There was just one troubling thought. He had +heard, long ago, and he had forgotten who had told him, that in the most +severe winters the wolves gather in particularly large packs; and a +quality in the song that they had heard at night seemed to bear it out. +The chorus had been exceptionally loud and strong, and he had been +unable to pick out individual voices.</p> + +<p>The snow was perfect for skiing. Previously their sport had been many +times interrupted either by the fall of fresh snow or a thaw that had +softened the snow crust; but now every afternoon was too perfect to +remain indoors. They shouted and romped in the silences, and they did +not dream but that they had the wilderness all to themselves. The fact +that one night Lennox's keen eyes had seen what looked like the glow of +a camp fire in the distance didn't affect this belief of theirs at all. +It was evidently just the phosphorus glowing in a rotten log from which +the winds had blown the snow.</p> + +<p>Once or twice they caught glimpses of wild life: once a grouse that had +buried in the snow flushed from their path and blew the snow-dust from +its wings; and once or twice they saw snowshoe rabbits bounding away on +flat feet over the drifts. But just one day they caught sight of a wolf. +They were on snowshoes on a particularly brilliant afternoon late in +January.</p> + +<p>He was a lone male, evidently a straggler from the pack, and he leaped +from the top of a tall thicket that had remained above the snow. The man +and the girl had entirely different reactions. Dan's first impression +was amazement at the animal's condition. It seemed to be in the last +stages of starvation: unbelievably gaunt, with rib bones showing plainly +even through the furry hide. Ordinarily the heavily furred animals do +not show signs of famine; but even an inexperienced eye could not make a +mistake in this case. The eyes were red, and they carried Dan back to +his first adventure in the Oregon forest—the day he had shot the mad +coyote. Snowbird thought of the beast only as an enemy. The wolves +killed her father's stock; they were brigands of the worst order; and +she shared the hatred of them that is a common trait of all primitive +peoples. Her hand whipped back, seized her pistol, and she fired twice +at the fleeing figure.</p> + +<p>The second shot was a hit: both of them saw the wolf go to its side, +then spring up and race on. Shouting, both of them sped after him.</p> + +<p>In a few moments he was out of sight among the distant trees, but they +found the blood-trail and mushed over the ridge. They expected at any +moment to find him lying dead; but the track led them on clear down the +next canyon. And now they cared not at all whether they found him: it +was simply a tramp in the out-of-doors; and both of them were young with +red blood in their veins.</p> + +<p>But all at once Dan stopped in his tracks. The girl sped on for six +paces before she missed the sound of his snowshoes; then she turned to +find him standing, wholly motionless, with eyes fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>It startled her, and she didn't know why. A companion abruptly freezing +in his path, his muscles inert, and his eyes filling with speculations +is always startling. When this occurs, it means simply that a thought so +compelling and engrossing that even the half-unconscious physical +functions, such as walking, cannot continue, has come into his mind. And +it is part of the old creed of self-preservation to dislike greatly to +be left out on any such thought as this. If danger is present, the +sooner it is identified the better.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>He turned to her, curiously intent. "How many shells have you in that +pistol?"</p> + +<p>She took one breath and answered him. "It holds five, and I shot twice. +I haven't any others."</p> + +<p>"And I don't suppose it ever occurred to you to carry extra ones in your +pocket?"</p> + +<p>"Father is always telling me to—and several times I have. But I'd shoot +them away at target practice and forget to take any more. There was +never any danger—except that night with a cougar. I did intend to—but +what does it matter now?"</p> + +<p>"We're a couple of wise ones, going after that wolf with only three +shots to our name. Of course by himself he's harmless—but he's likely +enough to lead us straight toward the pack. And Snowbird—I didn't like +his looks. He's too gaunt, and he's too hungry—and I haven't a bit of +doubt he waited in that brush for us to come, intending to attack +us—and lost his nerve the last thing. That shows he's desperate. I +don't like him, and I wouldn't like his pack. And a whole pack might not +lose <i>its</i> nerve."</p> + +<p>"Then you think we'd better turn back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do, and not come out any more without a whole pocket of shells. +I'm going to carry my rifle, too, just as Lennox has always advised. +He's only got a flesh-wound. You saw what you did with two +cartridges—got in one flesh-wound. Three of 'em against a pack wouldn't +be a great deal of aid. I don't mean to say you can't shoot, but a +jumping, lively wolf is worse than a bird in the air. We've gone over +three miles; and he'd lead us ten miles farther—even if he didn't go to +the pack. Let's go back."</p> + +<p>"If you say so. But I don't think there's the least bit of danger. We +can always climb a tree."</p> + +<p>"And have 'em make a beautiful circle under it! They've got more +patience than we have—and we'd have to come down sometime. Your father +can't come to our help, you know. It's the sign of the tenderfoot not to +think there's any danger—and I'm not going to think that way any more."</p> + +<p>They turned back and mushed in silence a long time.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you'll think I'm a coward," Dan asked her humbly.</p> + +<p>"Only prudent, Dan," she answered, smiling. Whether she meant it, he did +not know. "I'm just beginning to understand that you—living here only a +few months—really know and understand all this better than I do." She +stretched her arms wide to the wilderness. "I guess it's your +instincts."</p> + +<p>"And I do understand," he told her earnestly. "I sensed danger back +there just as sure as I can see your face. That pack—and it's a big +one—is close; and it's terribly hungry. And you know—you can't help +but know—that the wolves are not to be trusted in famine times."</p> + +<p>"I know it only too well," she said.</p> + +<p>Then she paused and asked him about a strange grayness, like snow blown +by the wind, on the sky over the ridge.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIIC" id="IIIC"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>Bert Cranston waited in a clump of exposed thicket on the hillside until +he saw two black dots, that he knew were Dan and Snowbird, leave the +Lennox home. He lay very still as they circled up the ridge, noticing +that except for the pistol that he knew Snowbird always carried, they +were unarmed. There was no particular reason why he should be interested +in that point. It was just the mountain way always to look for weapons, +and it is rather difficult to trace the mental processes behind this +impulse. Perhaps it can be laid to the fact that many mountain families +are often at feud with one another, and anything in the way of violence +may happen before the morning.</p> + +<p>The two passed out of his sight, and after a long time he heard the +crack of Snowbird's pistol. He guessed that she had either shot at some +wild creature, or else was merely at target practice,—rather a common +proceeding for the two when they were on the hills together. Thus it is +to be seen that Cranston knew their habits fairly well. And since he had +kept a close watch upon them for several days, this was to be expected.</p> + +<p>He had no intention of being interrupted in this work he was about to +do. He had planned it all very well. At first the intermittent +snow-storms and the thaws between had delayed him. He needed a perfect +snow crust for the long tramp over the ridge; and at last the bright +days and the icy dawns had made it. The elder Lennox was still helpless. +He had noticed that when Dan and Snowbird went out, they were usually +gone from two to four hours; and that gave him plenty of time for his +undertaking. The moment had come at last to make a thorough search of +Lennox's house for those incriminating documents that Dan had found near +the body of Landy Hildreth.</p> + +<p>The only really dangerous part of his undertaking was his approach. If +by any chance Lennox were looking out of the window, he might be found +waiting with a rifle across his arms. It would be quite like the old +mountaineer to have his gun beside him, and to shoot it quick and +exceptionally straight, without asking questions, at any stealing figure +in the snow. Yet Cranston felt fairly sure that Lennox was still too +helpless to raise a gun to a shooting position.</p> + +<p>He had observed that the mountaineer spent his time either on the +fireplace divan or on his own bed. Neither of these places was available +to the rear windows of the house. So, very wisely, he made his attack +from the rear.</p> + +<p>He came stealing across the snow,—a musher of the first degree. Very +silently and swiftly he slipped off his snowshoes at the door. The door +itself was unlocked, just as he had supposed. In an instant more he was +tiptoeing, a dark, silent figure, through the corridors of the house. He +held his rifle ready in his hands.</p> + +<p>He peered into Lennox's bedroom first. The room was unoccupied. Then the +floor of the corridor creaked beneath his step; and he knew nothing +further was to be gained by waiting. If Lennox suspected his presence, +he might be waiting with aimed rifle as he opened the door of the living +room.</p> + +<p>He glided faster. He halted once more,—a moment at the living-room door +to see if Lennox had been disturbed. He was lying still, however, so +Cranston pushed through.</p> + +<p>Lennox glanced up from his magazine to find that unmistakable thing, the +barrel of a rifle, pointed at his breast. Cranston was one of those +rare marksmen who shoots with both eyes open,—and that meant that he +kept his full visual powers to the last instant before the hammer fell.</p> + +<p>"I can't raise my arms," Lennox said simply. "One of 'em won't work at +all—besides, against the doctor's orders."</p> + +<p>Cranston stole over toward him, looking closely for weapons. He pulled +aside the woolen blanket that Lennox had drawn up over his body, and he +pushed his hand into the cushions of the couch. A few deft pats, holding +his rifle through the fork of his arm, finger coiled into the trigger +guard, assured him that Lennox was not "heeled" at all. Then he laughed +and went to work.</p> + +<p>"I thought I told you once," Lennox began with perfect coldness, "that +the doors of my house were no longer open to you."</p> + +<p>"You did say that," was Cranston's guttural reply. "But you see I'm here +just the same, don't you? And what are you going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"I probably felt that sooner or later you would come to steal—just as +you and your crowd stole the supplies from the forest station last +winter—and that probably influenced me to give the orders. I didn't +want thieves around my house, and I don't want them now. I don't want +coyotes, either."</p> + +<p>"And I don't want any such remarks out of you, either," Cranston +answered him. "You lie still and shut up, and I suspect that sissy +boarder of yours will come back, after he's through embracing your +daughter in the snow, and find you in one piece. Otherwise not."</p> + +<p>"If I were in one piece," Lennox answered him very quietly, "instead of +a bundle of broken bones that can't lift its arms, I'd get up off this +couch, unarmed as I am, and stamp on your lying lips."</p> + +<p>But Cranston only laughed and tied Lennox's feet with a cord from the +window shade.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He went to work very systematically. First he rifled Lennox's desk in +the living room. Then he looked on all the mantels and ransacked the +cupboards and the drawers. He was taunting and calm at first. But as the +moments passed, his passion grew upon him. He no longer smiled. The +rodent features became intent; the eyes narrowed to curious, bright +slits under the dark lashes. He went to Dan's room, searched his bureau +drawer and all the pockets of the clothes hanging in his closet. He +upset his trunk and pawed among old letters in the suitcase. Then, +stealing like some creature of the wilderness, he came back to the +living room.</p> + +<p>Lennox was not on the divan where he had left him. He lay instead on the +floor near the fireplace; and he met the passion-drawn face with entire +calmness. His motives were perfectly plain. He had just made a desperate +effort to procure Dan's rifle that hung on two sets of deer horns over +the fireplace, and was entirely exhausted from it. He had succeeded in +getting down from the couch, though wracked by agony, but had been +unable to lift himself up in reach of the gun.</p> + +<p>Cranston read his intention in one glance. Lennox knew it, but he simply +didn't care. He had passed the point where anything seemed to matter.</p> + +<p>"Tell me where it is," Cranston ordered him. Again he pointed his rifle +at Lennox's wasted breast.</p> + +<p>"Tell you where what is? My money?"</p> + +<p>"You know what I want—and it isn't money. I mean those letters that +Failing found on the ridge. I'm through fooling, Lennox. Dan learned +that long ago, and it's time you learned it now."</p> + +<p>"Dan learned it because he was sick. He isn't sick now. Don't presume +too much on that."</p> + +<p>Cranston laughed with harsh scorn. "But that isn't the question. I said +I've wasted all the time I'm going to. You are an old man and helpless; +but I'm not going to let that stand in the way of getting what I came to +get. They're hidden somewhere around this house. They wouldn't be out in +the snow, because he'd want 'em where he could get them. By no means +would he carry them on his person—fearing that some day he'd meet me on +the ridge. He's a fool, but he ain't that much of a fool. I've watched, +and he's had no chance to take them into town. I'll give you—just five +seconds to tell me where they're hidden."</p> + +<p>"And I give you," Lennox replied, "one second less than that—to go to +Hell!"</p> + +<p>Both of them breathed hard in the quiet room. Cranston was trembling +now, shivering just a little in his arms and shoulders. "Don't get me +wrong, Lennox," he warned.</p> + +<p>"And don't have any delusions in regard to me, either," Lennox replied. +"I've stood worse pain, from this accident, than any man can give me +while I yet live, no matter what he does. If you want to get on me and +hammer me in the approved Cranston way, I can't defend myself—but you +won't get a civil answer out of me. I'm used to pain, and I can stand +it. I'm not used to fawning to a coyote like you, and I can't stand it."</p> + +<p>But Cranston hardly heard. An idea had flamed in his mind and cast a red +glamour over all the scene about him. It was instilling a poison in his +nerves and a madness in his blood, and it was searing him, like fire, in +his dark brain. Nothing seemed real. He suddenly bent forward, tense.</p> + +<p>"That's all right about you," he said. "But you'd be a little more +polite if it was Snowbird—and Dan—that would have to pay."</p> + +<p>Perhaps the color faded slightly in Lennox's face; but his voice did not +change.</p> + +<p>"They'll see your footprints before they come in and be ready," Lennox +replied evenly. "They always come by the back way. And even with a +pistol, Snowbird's a match for you."</p> + +<p>"Did you think that was what I meant?" Cranston scorned. "I know a way +to destroy those letters, and I'll do it—in the four seconds that I +said, unless you tell. I'm not even sure I'm goin' to give you a chance +to tell now; it's too good a scheme. There won't be any witnesses then +to yell around in the courts. What if I choose to set fire to this +house?"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't surprise me a great deal. It's your own trade." Lennox +shuddered once on his place on the floor.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have to worry about those letters then, would I? They are +somewhere in the house, and they'd be burned to ashes. But that isn't +all that would be burned. You could maybe crawl out, but you couldn't +carry the guns, and you couldn't carry the pantry full of food. You're +nearly eighty miles up here from the nearest occupied house, with two +pair of snowshoes for the three of you and one dinky pistol. And you +can't walk at all. It would be a nice pickle, wouldn't it? Wouldn't you +have a fat chance of getting down to civilization?"</p> + +<p>The voice no longer held steady. It trembled with passion. This was no +idle threat. The brain had already seized upon the scheme with every +intention of carrying it out. Outside the snow glittered in the +sunlight, and pine limbs bowed with their load; overhung with that +curious winter silence that, once felt, returns often in dreams. The +wilderness lay stark and bare, stripped of all delusion—not only in the +snow world outside but in the hearts of these two men, its sons.</p> + +<p>"I have only one hope," Lennox replied. "I hope, unknown to me, that Dan +has already dispatched those letters. The arm of the law is long, +Cranston. It's easy to forget that fact up here. It will reach you in +the end."</p> + +<p>Cranston turned through the door, into the kitchen. He was gone a long +time. Lennox heard him at work: the crinkle of paper and then a pouring +sound around the walls. Then he heard the sharp crack of a match. An +instant later the first wisp of smoke came curling, pungent with burning +oil, through the corridor.</p> + +<p>"You crawled from your couch to reach that gun," Cranston told him when +he came in. "Let's see you crawl out now."</p> + +<p>Lennox's answer was a curse,—the last, dread outpouring of an unbroken +will. He didn't look again at the glittering eyes. He scarcely watched +Cranston's further preparations: the oil poured on the rugs and +furnishings, the kindling placed at the base of the curtains. Cranston +was trained in this work. He was taking no chances on the fire being +extinguished. And Lennox began to crawl toward the door.</p> + +<p>He managed to grasp the corner of the blanket on the divan as he went, +and he dragged it behind him. Pain wracked him, and smoke half-blinded +him. But he made it at last. And by the time he had crawled one hundred +feet over the snow crust, the whole structure was in flames. The red +tongues spoke with a roar.</p> + +<p>Cranston, the fire-madness on his face, hurried to the outbuildings. +There he repeated the work. He touched a match to the hay in the barn, +and the wind flung the flame through it in an instant. The sheds and +other outbuildings were treated with oil. And seeing that his work was +done, he called once to the prone body of Lennox on the snow and mushed +away into the silences.</p> + +<p>Lennox's answer was not a curse this time. Rather it was a prayer, +unuttered, and in his long years Lennox had not prayed often. When he +prayed at all, the words were burning fire. His prayer was that of +Samson,—that for a moment his strength might come back to him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IVC" id="IVC"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p>Two miles across the ridges, Dan and Snowbird saw a faint mist blowing +between the trees. They didn't recognize it at first. It might be fine +snow, blown by the wind, or even one of those mysterious fogs that +sometimes sweep over the snow.</p> + +<p>"But it looks like smoke," Snowbird said.</p> + +<p>"But it couldn't be. The trees are too wet to burn."</p> + +<p>But then a sound that at first was just the faintest whisper in which +neither of them would let themselves believe, became distinct past all +denying. It was that menacing crackle of a great fire, that in the whole +world of sounds is perhaps the most terrible. They were trained by the +hills, and neither of them tried to mince words. They had learned to +face the truth, and they faced it now.</p> + +<p>"It's our house," Snowbird told him. "And father can't get out."</p> + +<p>She spoke very quietly. Perhaps the most terrible truths of life are +always spoken in that same quiet voice. Then both of them started across +the snow, fast as their unwieldy snowshoes would permit.</p> + +<p>"He can crawl a little," Dan called to her. "Don't give up, Snowbird +mine. I think he'll be safe."</p> + +<p>They mounted to the top of the ridge; and the long sweep of the forest +was revealed to them. The house was a singular tall pillar of flame, +already glowing that dreadful red from which firemen, despairing, turn +away. Then the girl seized his hands and danced about him in a mad +circle.</p> + +<p>"He's alive," she cried. "You can see him—just a dot on the snow. He +crawled out to safety."</p> + +<p>She turned and sped at a breakneck pace down the ridge. Dan had to race +to keep up with her. But it wasn't entirely wise to try to mush so fast. +A dead log lay beneath the snow with a broken limb stretched almost to +its surface, and it caught her snowshoe. The wood cracked sharply, and +she fell forward in the snow. But she wasn't hurt, and the snowshoe +itself, in spite of a small crack in the wood, was still serviceable.</p> + +<p>"Haste makes waste," he told her. "Keep your feet on the ground, +Snowbird; the house is gone already and your father is safe. Remember +what lies before us."</p> + +<p>The thought sobered and halted her. She glanced once at the dark face of +her companion. Dan couldn't understand the strange light that suddenly +leaped to her eyes. Perhaps she herself couldn't have explained the wave +of tenderness that swept over her,—with no cause except the look in +Dan's earnest gray eyes and the lines that cut so deep. Since the world +was new, it has been the boast of the boldest of men that they looked +their Fate in the face. And this is no mean looking. For fate is a sword +from the darkness, a power that reaches out of the mystery, and cannot +be classed with sights of human origin. It burns out the eyes of all but +the strongest men. Yet Dan was looking at his fate now, and his eyes +held straight.</p> + +<p>They walked together down to the ruined house, and the three of them sat +silent while the fire burned red. Then Lennox turned to them with a +half-smile.</p> + +<p>"You're wasting time, you two," he said. "Remember all our food is gone. +If you start now, and walk hard, maybe you can make it out."</p> + +<p>"There are several things to do first," Dan answered simply.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what they are. It isn't going to be any picnic, Dan. A man +can travel only so far without food to keep up his strength, +particularly over such ridges as you have to cross. It will be easy to +give up and die. It's the test, man; it's the test."</p> + +<p>"And what about you?" his daughter asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll be all right. Besides—it's the only thing that can be done. I +can't walk, and you can't carry me on your backs. What else remains? +I'll stay here—and I'll scrape together enough wood to keep a fire. +Then you can bring help."</p> + +<p>He kept his eyes averted when he talked. He was afraid for Dan to see +them, knowing that he could read the lie in them.</p> + +<p>"How do you expect to find wood—in this snow?" Dan asked him. "It will +take four days to get out; do you think you could lie here and battle +with a fire for four days, and then four days more that it will take to +come back? You'd have two choices: to burn green wood that I'd cut for +you before I left, or the rain-soaked dead wood under the snow. You +couldn't keep either one of them burning, and you'd die in a night. +Besides—this is no time for an unarmed man to be alone in the hills."</p> + +<p>Lennox's voice grew pleading. "Be sensible, Dan!" he cried. "That +Cranston's got us, and got us right. I've only one thing more I care +about—and that is that you pay the debt! I can't hope to get out +myself. I say that I can't even hope to. But if you bring my daughter +through—and when the spring comes, pay what we owe to Cranston—I'll be +content. Heavens, son—I've lived my life. The old pack leader dies when +his time comes, and so does a man."</p> + +<p>His daughter crept to him and sheltered his gray head against her +breast. "I'll stay with you then," she cried.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a little fool, Snowbird," he urged. "My clothes are wet +already from the melted snow. It's too long a way—it will be too hard a +fight, and children—I'm old and tired out. I don't want to make the +try—hunger and cold; and even if you'd stay here and grub wood, +Snowbird, they'd find us both dead when they came back in a week. We +can't live without food, and work and keep warm—and there isn't a +living creature in the hills."</p> + +<p>"Except the wolves," Dan reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Except the wolves," Lennox echoed. "Remember, we're unarmed—and they'd +find it out. You're young, Snowbird, and so is Dan—and you two will be +happy. I know how things are, you two—more than you know +yourselves—and in the end you'll be happy. But me—I'm too tired to +make the try. I don't care about it enough. I'm going to wave you +good-by, and smile, and lie here and let the cold come down. You feel +warm in a little while—"</p> + +<p>But she stopped his lips with her hand. And he bent and kissed it.</p> + +<p>"If anybody's going to stay with you," Dan told them in a clear, firm +voice, "it's going to be me. But aren't any of the cabins occupied?"</p> + +<p>"You know they aren't," Lennox answered. "Not even the houses beyond the +North Fork, even if we could get across. The nearest help is over +seventy miles."</p> + +<p>"And Snowbird, think! Haven't any supplies been left in the ranger +station?"</p> + +<p>"Not one thing," the girl told him. "You know Cranston and his crowd +robbed the place last winter. And the telephone lines were disconnected +when the rangers left."</p> + +<p>"Then the only way is for me to stay here. You can take the pistol, and +you'll have a fair chance of getting through. I'll grub wood for our +camp meanwhile, and you can bring help."</p> + +<p>"And if the wolves come, or if help didn't come in time," Lennox +whispered, passion-drawn for the first time, "who would pay what we owe +to Cranston?"</p> + +<p>"But her life counts—first of all."</p> + +<p>"I know it does—but mine doesn't count at all. Believe me, you two. I'm +speaking from my own desires when I say I don't want to make the fight. +Snowbird would never make it through alone. There are the wolves, and +maybe Cranston too—the worst wolf of all. A woman can't mush across +those ridges four days without food, without some one who loves her and +forces her on! Neither can she stay here with me and try to make green +branches burn in a fire. She's got three little pistol balls—and we'd +all die for a whim. Oh, please, please—"</p> + +<p>But Dan leaped for his hand with glowing eyes. "Listen, man!" he cried. +"I know another way yet. I know more than one way; but one, if we've got +the strength, is almost sure. There is an ax in the kitchen, and the +blade will still be good."</p> + +<p>"Likely dulled with the fire—"</p> + +<p>"I'll cut a limb with my jackknife for the handle. There will be nails +in the ashes, plenty of them. We'll make a rude sledge, and we'll get +you out too."</p> + +<p>Lennox seemed to be studying his wasted hands. "It's a chance, but it +isn't worth it," he said at last. "You'll have fight enough, without +tugging at a heavy sled. It will take all night to build it, and it +would cut down your chances of getting out by pretty near half. Remember +the ridges, Dan—"</p> + +<p>"But we'll climb every ridge—besides, its a slow, down grade most of +the way. Snowbird—tell him he must do it."</p> + +<p>Snowbird told him, overpowering him with her enthusiasm. And Dan shook +his shoulders with rough hands. "You're hurting, boy!" Lennox warned. +"I'm a bag of broken bones."</p> + +<p>"I'll tote you down there if I have to tie you in," Dan Failing replied. +"Before, I've bowed to your will; but this time you have to bow to mine. +I'm not going to let you stay here and die, no matter if you beg on your +knees! It's the test—and I'm going to bring you through."</p> + +<p>He meant what he said. If mortal strength and sinew could survive such a +test, he would succeed. There was nothing in these words to suggest the +physical weakling that both of them had known a few months before. The +eyes were earnest, the dark face intent, the determined voice did not +waver at all.</p> + +<p>"Dan Failing speaks!" Lennox replied with glowing eyes. He was recalling +another Dan Failing of the dead years, a boyhood hero, and his +remembered voice had never been more determined, more masterful than +this he had just heard.</p> + +<p>"And Cranston didn't get his purpose, after all." To prove his words, +Dan thrust his hand into his inner coat pocket. He drew forth a little, +flat package, half as thick as a pack of cards. He held it up for them +to see. "The thing Bert Cranston burned the house down to destroy," he +explained. "I'm learning to know this mountain breed, Lennox. I kept it +in my pocket where I could fight for it, at any minute."</p> + +<p>Cranston had been mistaken, after all, in thinking that in fear of +himself Dan would be afraid to keep the packet on his person, and would +cravenly conceal it in the house. He would have been even more surprised +to know that Dan had lived in constant hope of meeting Cranston on the +ridges, showing him what it contained, and fighting him for it, hands to +hands. And even yet, perhaps the day would come when Cranston would know +at last that Snowbird's words, after the fight of long ago, were true.</p> + +<p>The twilight was falling over the snow, so Snowbird and Dan turned to +the toil of building a sled.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VC" id="VC"></a>V</h2> + + +<p>The snow was steel-gray in the moonlight when the little party made +their start down the long trail. Their preparations, simple and crude as +they were, had taken hours of ceaseless labor on the part of the three. +The ax, its edge dulled by the flame and its handle burned away, had +been cooled in the snow, and with his one sound arm, Lennox had driven +the hot nails that Snowbird gathered from the ashes of one of the +outbuildings. The embers of the house itself still glowed red in the +darkness.</p> + +<p>Dan had cut the green limbs of the trees and planed them with his ax. +The sled had been completed, handles attached for pushing it, and a +piece of fence wire fastened with nails as a rope to pull it. The warm +mackinaws of both of them as well as the one blanket that Lennox had +saved from the fire were wrapped about the old frontiersman's wasted +body,—Dan and Snowbird hoping to keep warm by the exercise of +propelling the sled. Except for the dull ax and the half-empty pistol, +their only equipment was a single charred pot for melting snow that Dan +had recovered from the ashes of the kitchen.</p> + +<p>The three had worked almost in silence. Words didn't help now. They +wasted no sorely-needed breath. But they did have one minute of talk +when they got to the top of the little ridge that had overlooked the +house.</p> + +<p>"We'll travel mostly at night," Dan told them. "We can see in the snow, +and by taking our rest in the daytime, when the sun is bright and warm, +we can save our strength. We won't have to keep such big fires then—and +at night our exertion will keep us as warm as we can hope for. Getting +up all night to cut green wood with this dull ax in the snow would break +us to pieces very soon, for remember that we haven't any food. I know +how to build a fire even in the snow—especially if I can find the dead, +dry heart of a rotten log—but it isn't any fun to keep it going with +green wood. We don't want to have to spend any more of our strength +stripping off wet bark and hacking at saplings than we can help; and +that means we'd better do our resting in the heat of the day. After all, +it's a fight against starvation more than anything else."</p> + +<p>"Just think," the girl told them, reproaching herself, "if I'd just shot +straight at that wolf to-day, we could have gone back and got his body. +It might have carried us through."</p> + +<p>Neither of the others as much as looked surprised at these amazing +regrets over the lost, unsavory flesh of a wolf. They were up against +realities, and they didn't mince words. Dan smiled at her gently, and +his great shoulder leaned against the traces.</p> + +<p>They moved through a dead world. The ever-present manifestations of wild +life that had been such a delight to Dan in the summer and fall were +quite lacking now. The snow was trackless. Once they thought they saw a +snowshoe rabbit, a strange shadow on the snow, but he was too far away +for Snowbird to risk a pistol shot. The pound or two of flesh would be +sorely needed before the journey was over, but the pistol cartridges +might be needed still more. She didn't let her mind rest on certain +possibilities wherein they might be needed. Such thoughts stole the +courage from the spirit, and courage was essential beyond all things +else to bring them through.</p> + +<p>Once a flock of wild geese, stragglers from the main army of waterfowl, +passed overhead on their southern migration. They were many months too +late. They called down their eerie cries,—that song that they had +learned from the noise the wind makes, blowing over the bleak marshes. +It wailed down to them a long time after the flock was hidden by the +distant tree tops, and seemed to shiver, with curious echoes, among the +pines. Trudging on, they listened to its last note. And possibly they +understood the cry as never before. It was one of the untamed, primitive +voices of the wilderness, and they could realize something of its +sadness, its infinite yearning and complaint. They knew the wilderness +now, just as the geese themselves did. They knew its cold, its hunger, +its remorselessness, and beyond all, the fear that was bright eyes in +the darkness. No man could have crossed that first twenty miles with +them and remained a tenderfoot. The wild was sending home its lessons, +one after another, until the spirit broke beneath them. It was showing +its teeth. It was reminding them, very clearly, that in spite of houses +built on the ridges and cattle pens and rifles and all the tools and +aids of civilization, it was still unconquered.</p> + +<p>Mostly the forest was heavily laden with silence. And silence, in this +case, didn't seem to be merely an absence of sound. It seemed like a +substance in itself, something that lay over the snow, in which all +sound was immediately smothered and extinguished. They heard their own +footfalls in the snow and the crunch of the sled. But the sound only +went a little way. Once in a long time distant trees cracked in the +frost; and they all stood still a moment, trying to fight down the vain +hope that this might be some hunter from the valleys who would come to +their aid. A few times they heard the snow sliding, with the dull sound +of rolling window shade, down from the overburdened limbs. The trees +were inert with their load of snow.</p> + +<p>As the dawn came out, they all stood still and listened to the wolf +pack, singing on the ridge somewhere behind them. It was a large pack. +They couldn't make out individual voices,—neither the more shrill cry +of the females, the yapping of the cubs, or the low, clear +G-below-middle-C note of the males.</p> + +<p>"If they should cross our tracks—" Lennox suggested.</p> + +<p>"No use worrying about that now—not until we come to it," Dan told him.</p> + +<p>The morning broke, the sun rose bright in a clear sky. But still they +trudged on. In spite of the fact that the sled was heavy and broke +through the snow crust as they tugged at it, they had made good time +since their departure. But now every step was a pronounced effort. It +was the dreadful beginning of fatigue that only food and warmth and rest +could rectify.</p> + +<p>"We'll rest now," Dan told them at ten o'clock. "The sun is warm enough +so that we won't need much of a fire. And we'll try to get five hours' +sleep."</p> + +<p>"Too long, if we're going to make it out," Lennox objected.</p> + +<p>"That leaves a work-day of nineteen hours," Dan persisted. "Not any too +little. Five hours it will be."</p> + +<p>He found where the snow had drifted against a great, dead log, leaving +the white covering only a foot in depth on the lee side. He began to +scrape the snow away, then hacked at the log with his ax until he had +procured a piece of comparatively dry wood from its center. They all +stood breathless while he lighted the little pile of kindling and heaped +it with green wood,—the only wood procurable. But it didn't burn +freely. It smoked fitfully, threatening to die out, and emitting very +little heat.</p> + +<p>But they didn't particularly care. The sun was warm above, as always in +the mountain winters of Southern Oregon. Snowbird and Dan cleared spaces +beside the fire and slept. Lennox, who had rested on the journey, lay on +his sled and with his uninjured arm tried to hack enough wood from the +saplings that Dan had cut to keep the fire burning.</p> + +<p>At three they got up, still tired and aching in their bones from +exposure. Twenty-four hours had passed since they had tasted food, and +their unreplenished systems complained. There is no better engine in the +wide world than the human body. It will stand more neglect and abuse +than the finest steel motors ever made by the hands of European +craftsmen. A man may fast many days if he lies quietly in one place and +keeps warm. But fasting is a deadly proposition while pulling sledges +over the snow.</p> + +<p>Dan was less hopeful now. His face told what his words did not. The +lines cleft deeper about his lips and eyes; and Snowbird's heart ached +when he tried to encourage her with a smile. It was a wan, strange smile +that couldn't quite hide the first sickness of despair.</p> + +<p>The shadows quickly lengthened—simply leaping over the snow from the +fast-falling sun. Soon it dropped down behind the ridge; and the gray of +twilight began to deepen among the more distant trees. It blurred the +outline and dulled the sight. With the twilight came the cold, first +crisp, then bitter and penetrating to the vitals. The twilight deepened, +the snow turned gray, and then, in a vague way, the journey began to +partake of a quality of unreality. It was not that the cold and the +snow and their hunger were not entirely real, or that the wilderness +was no longer naked to their eyes. It was just that their whole effort +seemed like some dreadful, emburdened journey in a dream,—a stumbling +advance under difficulties too many and real to be true.</p> + +<p>The first sign was the far-off cry of the wolf pack. It was very faint, +simply a stir in the ear drums, yet it was entirely clear. That clear, +cold mountain air was a perfect telephone system, conveying a message +distinctly, no matter how faintly. There were no tall buildings or +cities to disturb the ether waves. And all three of them knew at the +same instant it was not exactly the cry they had heard before.</p> + +<p>They couldn't have told just why, even if they had wished to talk about +it. In some dim way, it had lost the strange quality of despair that it +had held before. It was as if the pack were running with renewed life, +that each wolf was calling to another with a dreadful sort of +exultation. It was an excited cry too,—not the long, sad song they had +learned to listen for. It sounded immediately behind them.</p> + +<p>They couldn't help but listen. No human ears could have shut out the +sound. But none of them pretended that they had heard. And this was the +worst sign of all. Each one of the three was hoping against hope in his +very heart; and at the same time, hoping that the others did not +understand.</p> + +<p>For a long time, as the darkness deepened about them, the forests were +still. Perhaps, Dan thought, he had been mistaken after all. His +shoulders straightened. Then the chorus blared again.</p> + +<p>The man looked back at the girl, smiling into her eyes. Lennox lay as if +asleep, the lines of his dark face curiously pronounced. And the girl, +because she was of the mountains, body and soul, answered Dan's smile. +Then they knew that all of them knew the truth. Not even an +inexperienced ear could have any delusions about the pack song now. It +was that oldest of wilderness songs, the hunting-cry,—that frenzied +song of blood-lust that the wolf pack utters when it is running on the +trail of game. It had found the track of living flesh at last.</p> + +<p>"There's no use stopping, or trying to climb a tree," Dan told them +simply. "In the first place, Lennox can't do it. In the second, we've +got to take a chance—for cold and hunger can get up a tree where the +wolf pack can't."</p> + +<p>He spoke wholly without emotion. Once more he tightened the traces of +the sled.</p> + +<p>"I've heard that sometimes the pack will chase a man for days without +attacking," Lennox told them. "It all depends on how long they've gone +without food. Keep on and try to forget 'em. Maybe we can keep 'em +bluffed."</p> + +<p>But as the hours passed, it became increasingly difficult to forget the +wolf pack. It was only a matter of turning the head and peering for an +instant into the shadows to catch a glimpse of one of the creatures. +Their forms, when they emerged from the shadows of the tree trunks, were +entirely visible against the snow. They no longer yapped and howled. +They acted very intent and stealthy. They had spread out in a great +wing, slipping from shadow and shadow, and what were their mental +processes no human being may even guess. It was a new game; and they +seemed to be seeking the best means of attack. Their usual fear of men, +always their first emotion, had given way wholly to a hunting cunning: +an effort to procure their game without too great risk of their own +lives. In the desperation of their hunger they could not remember such +things as the fear of men. They spread out farther, and at last Dan +looked up to find one of the gray beasts waiting, like a shadow himself, +in the shadow of a tree not one hundred feet from the sled. Snowbird +whipped out her pistol.</p> + +<p>"Don't dare!" Dan's voice cracked out to her. He didn't speak loudly; +yet the words came so sharp and commanding, so like pistol fire itself, +that they penetrated into her consciousness and choked back the nervous +reflexes that in an instant might have lost them one of their three +precious shells. She caught herself with a sob. Dan shouted at the wolf, +and it melted into the shadows.</p> + +<p>"You won't do it again, Snowbird?" he asked her very humbly. But his +meaning was clear. He was not as skilled with a pistol as she; but if +her nerves were breaking, the gun must be taken from her hands. The +three shells must be saved to the moment of utmost need.</p> + +<p>"No," she told him, looking straight into his eyes. "I won't do it +again."</p> + +<p>He believed her. He knew that she spoke the truth. He met her eyes with +a half smile. Then, wholly without warning, Fate played its last trump.</p> + +<p>Again the wilderness reminded them of its might, and their brave spirits +were almost broken by the utter remorselessness of the blow. The girl +went on her face with a crack of wood. Her snowshoe had been cracked by +her fall of the day before, when running to the fire, and whether she +struck some other obstruction in the snow, or whether the cracked wood +had simply given way under her weight, mattered not even enough for them +to investigate. As in all great disasters, only the result remained. The +result in this case was that her snowshoe, without which she could not +walk at all in the snow, was irreparably broken.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIC" id="VIC"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p>"Fate has stacked the cards against us," Lennox told them, after the +first moment's horror from the broken snowshoe.</p> + +<p>But no one answered him. The girl, white-faced, kept her wide eyes on +Dan. He seemed to be peering into the shadows beside the trail, as if he +were watching for the gray forms that now and then glided from tree to +tree. In reality, he was not looking for wolves. He was gazing down into +his own soul, measuring his own spirit for the trial that lay before +him.</p> + +<p>The girl, unable to step with the broken snowshoe, rested her weight on +one foot and hobbled like a bird with broken wings across to him. No +sight of all this terrible journey had been more dreadful in her +father's eyes than this. It seemed to split open the strong heart of the +man. She touched her hand to his arm.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Dan," she told him. "You tried so hard—"</p> + +<p>Just one little sound broke from his throat—a strange, deep gasp that +could not be suppressed. Then he caught her hand in his and kissed +it,—again and again. "Do you think I care about that?" he asked her. "I +only wish I could have done more—and what I have done doesn't count. +Just as in my fight with Cranston, nothing counts because I didn't win. +It's just fate, Snowbird. It's no one's fault, but maybe, in this world, +nothing is ever any one's fault." For in the twilight of those winter +woods, in the shadow of death itself, perhaps he was catching +glimmerings of eternal truths that are hidden from all but the most +far-seeing eyes.</p> + +<p>"And this is the end?" she asked him. She spoke very bravely.</p> + +<p>"No!" His hand tightened on hers. "No, so long as an ounce of strength +remains. To fight—never to give up—may God give me spirit for it till +I die."</p> + +<p>And this was no idle prayer. His eyes raised to the starry sky as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>"But, son," Lennox asked him rather quietly, "what can you do? The +wolves aren't going to wait a great deal longer, and we can't go on."</p> + +<p>"There's one thing more—one more trial to make," Dan answered. "I +thought about it at first, but it was too long a chance to try if there +was any other way. And I suppose you thought of it too."</p> + +<p>"Overtaking Cranston?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. And it sounds like a crazy dream. But listen, both of you. +If we have got to die, up here in the snow—and it looks like we +had—what is the thing you want done worst before we go?"</p> + +<p>Lennox's hands clasped, and he leaned forward on the sled. "Pay +Cranston!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Dan's voice rang. "Cranston's never going to be paid unless we do +it. There will be no signs of incendiarism at the house, and no proofs. +They'll find our bodies in the snow, and we'll just be a mystery, with +no one made to pay. The evidence in my pocket will be taken by Cranston, +sometime this winter. If I don't make him pay, he never will pay. And +that's one reason why I'm going to try to carry out this plan I've got.</p> + +<p>"The second reason is that it's the one hope we have left. I take it +that none of us are deceived on that point. And no man can die +tamely—if he is a man—while there's a chance. I mean a young man, like +me,—not one who is old and tired. It sounds perfectly silly to talk +about finding Cranston's winter quarters, and then, with my bare hands, +conquering him, taking his food and his blankets and his snowshoes and +his rifle to fight away these wolves, and bringing 'em back here."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't be barehanded," the girl reminded him. "You could have the +pistol."</p> + +<p>He didn't even seem to hear her. "I've been thinking about it. It's a +long, long chance—much worse than the chance we had of getting out by +straight walking. I think we could have made it, if the wolves had kept +off and the snowshoe hadn't broken. It would have nearly killed us, but +I believe we could have got out. That's why I didn't try this other way +first. A man with his bare hands hasn't much of a chance against another +with a rifle, and I don't want you to be too hopeful. And of course, the +hardest problem is finding his camp.</p> + +<p>"But I do feel sure of one thing: that he is back to his old trapping +line on the North Fork—somewhere south of here—and his camp is +somewhere on the river. I think he would have gone there so that he +could cut off any attempt I might make to get through with those +letters. My plan is to start back at an angle that will carry me between +the North Fork and our old house. Somewhere in there I'll find his +tracks, the tracks he made when he first came over to burn up the house. +I suppose he was careful to mix 'em up after once he arrived there, but +the first part of the way he likely walked straight toward the house +from his camp. Somewhere, if I go that way, I'll cross his +trail—within ten miles at least. Then I'll back-track him to his camp."</p> + +<p>"And never come back!" the girl cried.</p> + +<p>"Maybe not. But at least everything that can be done will be done. +Nothing will be left. No regrets. We will have made the last trial. I'm +not going to waste any time, Snowbird. The sooner we get your fire built +the better."</p> + +<p>"Father and I are to stay here—?"</p> + +<p>"What else can you do?" He went back to his traces and drew the sled one +hundred yards farther. He didn't seem to see the gaunt wolf that backed +off into the shadows as he approached. He refused to notice that the +pack seemed to be steadily growing bolder. Human hunters usually had +guns that could blast and destroy from a distance; but even an animal +intelligence could perceive that these three seemed to be without this +means of inflicting death. A wolf is ever so much more intelligent than +a crow,—yet a crow shows little fear of an unarmed man and is wholly +unapproachable by a boy with a gun. The ugly truth was simply that in +their increasing madness and excitement and hunger, they were becoming +less and less fearful of these three strange humans with the sled.</p> + +<p>It was not a good place for a camp. They worked a long time before they +cleared a little patch of ground of its snow mantle. Dan cut a number of +saplings—laboriously with his ax—and built a fire with the +comparatively dry core of a dead tree. True, it was feeble and +flickering, but as good as could be hoped for, considering the +difficulties under which he worked. The dead logs under the snow were +soaked with water from the rains and the thaws. The green wood that he +cut smoked without blazing.</p> + +<p>"No more time to be lost," Dan told Snowbird. "It lies in your hands to +keep the fire burning. And don't leave the circle of the firelight +without that pistol in your hand."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean," she asked, unbelieving, "that you are going to go out +there to fight Cranston—unarmed?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, Snowbird. You must keep the pistol."</p> + +<p>"But it means death; that's all it means. What chance would you have +against a man with a rifle? And as soon as you get away from this fire, +the wolves will tear you to pieces."</p> + +<p>"And what would you and your father do, if I took it? You can't get him +into a tree. You can't build a big enough fire to frighten them. Please +don't even talk about this matter, Snowbird. My mind's made up. I think +the pack will stay here. They usually—God knows how—know who is +helpless and who isn't. Maybe with the gun, you will be able to save +your lives."</p> + +<p>"What's the chance of that?"</p> + +<p>"You might—with one cartridge—kill one of the devils; and the +others—but you know how they devour their own dead. That might break +their famine enough so that they'd hold off until I can get back. That's +the prize I'm playing for."</p> + +<p>"And what if you don't get back?"</p> + +<p>He took her hand in one of his, and with the other he caressed, for a +single moment, the lovely flesh of her throat. The love he had for her +spoke from his eyes,—such speech as no human vision could possibly +mistake. Both of them were tingling and breathless with a great, sweet +wonder.</p> + +<p>"Never let those fangs tear that softness, while you live," he told her +gently. "Never let that brave old man on the sled go to his death with +the pack tearing at him. Cheat 'em, Snowbird! Beat 'em the last minute, +if no other way remains! Show 'em who's boss, after all—of all this +forest."</p> + +<p>"You mean—?" Her eyes widened.</p> + +<p>"I mean that you must only spend one of those three shells in fighting +off the wolves. Save that till the moment you need it most. The other +two must be saved—for something else."</p> + +<p>She nodded, shuddering an instant at a menacing shadow that moved within +sixty feet of the fire. The firelight half-blinded them, dim as it was, +and they couldn't see into the darkness as well as they had before. +Except for strange, blue-yellow lights, close together and two and two +about the fire, they might have thought that the pack was gone.</p> + +<p>"Then good-by, Dan!" she told him. And she stretched up her arms. "The +thing I said—that day on the hillside—doesn't hold any more."</p> + +<p>His own arms encircled her, but he made no effort to claim her lips. +Lennox watched them quietly; in this moment of crisis not even +pretending to look away. Dan shook his head to her entreating eyes. "It +isn't just a kiss, darling," he told her soberly. "It goes deeper than +that. It's a symbol. It was your word, too, and mine; and words can't be +broken, things being as they are. Can't I make you understand?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. His eyes burned. Perhaps she didn't understand, as far as +actual functioning of the brain was concerned. But she reached up to +him, as women—knowing life in the concrete rather than the +abstract—have always reached up to men; and she dimly caught the gleam +of some eternal principle and right behind his words. This strong man of +the mountains had given his word, had been witness to her own promise to +him and to herself, and a law that goes down to the roots of life +prevented him from claiming the kiss.</p> + +<p>Many times, since the world was new, comfort—happiness—life itself +have been contingent on the breaking of a law. Yet in spite of what +seemed common sense, even though no punishment would forthcome if it +were broken, the law has been kept. It was this way now. It wouldn't +have been just a kiss such as boys and girls have always had in the +moonlight. It meant the symbolic renunciation of the debt that Dan owed +Cranston,—a debt that in his mind might possibly go unpaid, but which +no weight of circumstance could make him renounce.</p> + +<p>His longing for her lips pulled at the roots of him. But by the laws of +his being he couldn't claim them until the debt incurred on the +hillside, months ago, had been paid; to take them now meant to dull the +fine edge of his resolve to carry the issue through to the end, to dim +the star that led him, to weaken him, by bending now, for the test to +come. He didn't know why. It had its font in the deep wells of the +spirit. Common sense can't reveal how the holy man keeps strong the +spirit by denying the flesh. It goes too deep for that. Dan kept to his +consecration.</p> + +<p>He did, however, kiss her hands, and he kissed the tears out of her +eyes. Then he turned into the darkness and broke through the ring of the +wolves.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIIC" id="VIIC"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p>Dan Failing was never more thankful for his unerring sense of direction. +He struck off at a forty-five-degree angle between their late course and +a direct road to the river, and he kept it as if by a surveyor's line. +All the old devices of the wilderness—the ridge on ridge that looked +just alike, inclines that to the casual eye looked like downward slopes, +streams that vanished beneath the snow, and the snow-mist blowing across +the face of the landmarks—could not avail against him.</p> + +<p>A half dozen of the wolves followed him at first. But perhaps their +fierce eyes marked his long stride and his powerful body, and decided +that their better chance was with the helpless man and the girl beside +the flickering fire. They turned back, one by one. Dan kept straight on +and in two hours crossed Cranston's trail.</p> + +<p>It was perfectly plain in the moonlit snow. He began to back-track. He +headed down a long slope and in an hour more struck the North Fork. He +didn't doubt but that he would find Cranston in his camp, if he found +the camp at all. The man had certainly returned to it immediately after +setting fire to the buildings, if for no other reason than for food. It +isn't well to be abroad on the wintry mountains without a supply of +food; and Cranston would certainly know this fact.</p> + +<p>Dan didn't know when a rifle bullet from some camp in the thickets would +put an abrupt end to his advance. The brush grew high by the river, the +elevation was considerably lower, and there might be one hundred camps +out of the sight of the casual wayfarer. If Cranston should see him, +mushing across the moonlit snow, it would give him the most savage joy +to open fire upon him with his rifle.</p> + +<p>Dan's advance became more cautious. He was in a notable trapping region, +and he might encounter Cranston's camp at any moment. His keen eyes +searched the thickets, and particularly they watched the sky line for a +faint glare that might mean a camp fire. He tried to walk silently. It +wasn't an easy thing to do with awkward snowshoes; but the river drowned +the little noise that he made. He tried to take advantage of the shelter +of the thickets and the trees. Then, at the base of a little ridge, he +came to a sudden halt.</p> + +<p>He had estimated just right. Not two hundred yards distant, a camp fire +flickered and glowed in the shelter of a great log. He saw it, by the +most astounding good fortune, through a little rift in the trees. Ten +feet on either side, and it was obscured.</p> + +<p>He lost no time. He did not know when the wolves about Snowbird's camp +would lose the last of their cowardice. Yet he knew he must keep a tight +grip on his self-control and not let the necessity of haste cost him his +victory. He crept forward, step by step, placing his snowshoes with +consummate care. When he was one hundred yards distant he saw that +Cranston's camp was situated beside a little stream that flowed into the +river and that—like the mountaineer he was—he had built a large +lean-to reinforced with snowbanks. The fire burned at its opening. +Cranston was not in sight; either he was absent from camp or asleep in +his lean-to. The latter seemed the more likely.</p> + +<p>Dan made a wide detour, coming in about thirty yards behind the +construction. Still he moved with incredible caution. Never in his life +had he possessed a greater mastery over his own nerves. His heart leaped +somewhat fast in his breast; but this was the only wasted motion. It +isn't easy to advance through such thickets without ever a misstep, +without the rustle of a branch or the crack of a twig. Certain of the +wild creatures find it easy; but men have forgotten how in too many +centuries of cities and farms. It is hardly a human quality; and a +spectator would have found a rather ghastly fascination in watching the +lithe motions, the passionless face, the hands that didn't shake at all. +But there were no spectators—unless the little band of wolves, +stragglers from the pack that had gathered on the hills behind—watched +with lighted eyes.</p> + +<p>Dan went down at full length upon the snow and softly removed his +snowshoes. They would be only an impediment in the close work that was +sure to follow. He slid along the snow crust, clear to the mouth of the +lean-to.</p> + +<p>The moonlight poured through and showed the interior with rather +remarkable plainness. Cranston was sprawled, half-sitting, half-lying on +a tree-bough pallet near the rear wall. There was not the slightest +doubt of the man's wakefulness. Dan heard him stir, and once—as if at +the memory of his deed of the day before—he cursed in a savage whisper. +Although he was facing the opening of the lean-to, he was wholly unaware +of Dan's presence. The latter had thrust his head at the side of the +opening, and it was in shadow. Cranston seemed to be watching the +great, white snow fields that lay in front, and for a moment Dan was at +loss to explain this seeming vigil. Then he understood. The white field +before him was part of the long ridge that the three of them would pass +on their way to the valleys. Cranston had evidently anticipated that the +girl and the man would attempt to march out—even if he hadn't guessed +they would try to take the helpless Lennox with them—and he wished to +be prepared for emergencies. There might be sport to have with Dan, +unarmed as he was. And his eyes were full of strange conjectures in +regard to Snowbird. Both would be exhausted now and helpless—</p> + +<p>Dan's eyes encompassed the room: the piles of provisions heaped against +the wall, the snowshoes beside the pallet, but most of all he wished to +locate Cranston's rifle. Success or failure hung on that. He couldn't +find it at first. Then he saw the glitter of its barrel in the +moonlight,—leaning against a grub-box possibly six feet from Cranston +and ten from himself.</p> + +<p>His heart leaped. The best he had hoped for—for the sake of Snowbird, +not himself—was that he would be nearer to the gun than Cranston and +would be able to seize it first. But conditions could be greatly worse +than they were. If Cranston had actually had the weapon in his hands, +the odds of battle would have been frightfully against Dan. It takes a +certain length of time to seize, swing, and aim a rifle; and Dan felt +that while he would be unable to reach it himself, Cranston could not +procure it either, without giving Dan an opportunity to leap upon him. +In all his dreams, through the months of preparation, he had pictured it +thus. It was the test at last.</p> + +<p>The gun might be loaded, and still—in these days of safety +devices—unready to fire; and the loss of a fraction of a second might +enable Cranston to reach his knife. Thus Dan felt justified in ignoring +the gun altogether and trusting—as he had most desired—to a battle of +hands. And he wanted both hands free when he made his attack.</p> + +<p>If Dan had been erect upon his feet, his course would have been an +immediate leap on the shoulders of his adversary, running the risk of +Cranston reaching his hunting knife in time. But the second that he +would require to get to his feet would entirely offset this advantage. +Cranston could spring up too. So he did the next most disarming thing.</p> + +<p>He sprang up and strode into the lean-to.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Cranston," he said pleasantly.</p> + +<p>Cranston was also upon his feet the same instant. His instincts were +entirely true. He knew if he leaped for his rifle, Dan would be upon his +back in an instant, and he would have no chance to use it. His training, +also, had been that of the hills, and his reflexes flung him erect upon +his feet at the same instant that he saw the leap of his enemy's shadow. +They brought up face to face. The rifle was now out of the running, as +they were at about equal distances from it, and neither would have time +to swing or aim it.</p> + +<p>Dan's sudden appearance had been so utterly unlooked-for, that for a +moment Cranston could find no answer. His eyes moved to the rifle, then +to his belt where hung his hunting knife, that still lay on the pallet. +"Good evening, Failing," he replied, trying his hardest to fall into +that strange spirit of nonchalance with which brave men have so often +met their adversaries, and which Dan had now. "I'm surprised to see you +here. What do you want?"</p> + +<p>Dan's voice when he replied was no more warm than the snow banks that +reinforced the lean-to. "I want your rifle—also your snowshoes and your +supplies of food. And I think I'll take your blankets, too."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose you mean to fight for them?" Cranston asked. His lips +drew up in a smile, but there was no smile in the tone of his words.</p> + +<p>"You're right," Dan told him, and he stepped nearer. "Not only for that, +Cranston. We're face to face at last—hands to hands. I've got a knife +in my pocket, but I'm not even going to bring it out. It's hands to +hands—you and I—until everything's square between us."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you've forgotten that day on the ridge?" Cranston asked. "You +haven't any woman to save you this time."</p> + +<p>"I remember the day, and that's part of the debt. The thing you did +yesterday is part of it too. It's all to be settled at last, Cranston, +and I don't believe I could spare you if you went to your knees before +me. You've got a clearing out by the fire—big as a prize ring. We'll go +out there—side by side. And hands to hands we'll settle all these debts +we have between us—with no rules of fighting and no mercy in the end!"</p> + +<p>They measured each other with their eyes. Once more Cranston's gaze +stole to his rifle, but lunging out, Dan kicked it three feet farther +into the shadows of the lean-to. Dan saw the dark face drawn with +passion, the hands clenching, the shoulder muscles growing into hard +knots. And Cranston looked and knew that merciless vengeance—that +age-old sin and Christless creed by which he lived—had followed him +down and was clutching him at last.</p> + +<p>He saw it in the position of the stalwart form before him, the clear +level eyes that the moonlight made bright as steel, the hard lines, the +slim, powerful hands. He could read it in the tones of the voice,—tones +that he himself could not imitate or pretend. The hour had come for the +settling of old debts.</p> + +<p>He tried to curse his adversary as a weakling and a degenerate, but the +obscene words he sought for would not come to his lips. Here was his +fate, and because the darkness always fades before the light, and the +courage of wickedness always breaks before the courage of righteousness, +Cranston was afraid to look it in the face. The fear of defeat, of +death, of Heaven knows what remorselessness with which this grave giant +would administer justice was upon him, and his heart seemed to freeze in +his breast. Cravenly he leaped for his knife on the blankets below him.</p> + +<p>Dan was upon him before he ever reached it. He sprang as a cougar +springs, incredibly fast and with shattering power. Both went down, and +for a long time they writhed and struggled in each other's arms. The +pine boughs rustled strangely.</p> + +<p>The dark, gaunt hand reached in vain for the knife. Some resistless +power seemed to be holding his wrist and was bending its bone as an +Indian bends a bow. Pain lashed through him.—And then this dark-hearted +man, who had never known the meaning of mercy, opened his lips to scream +that this terrible enemy be merciful to him.</p> + +<p>But the words wouldn't come. A ghastly weight had come at his throat, +and his tortured lungs sobbed for breath. Then, for a long time, there +was a curious pounding, lashing sound in the evergreen boughs. It seemed +merciless and endless.</p> + +<p>But Dan got up at last, in a strange, heavy silence, and swiftly went to +work. He took the rifle and filled it with cartridges from Cranston's +belt. Then he put the remaining two boxes of shells into his shirt +pocket. The supplies of food—the sack of nutritious jerked venison like +dried bark, the little package of cheese, the boxes of hardtack and one +of the small sacks of prepared flour—he tied, with a single kettle, +into his heavy blankets and flung them with the rifle upon his back. +Finally he took the pair of snowshoes from the floor. He worked coldly, +swiftly, all the time munching at a piece of jerked venison. When he +had finished he walked to the door of the lean-to.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Dan that Cranston whispered faintly, from his +unconsciousness, as he passed; but the victor did not turn to look. The +snowshoes crunched away into the darkness. On the hill behind a +half-dozen wolves—stragglers from the pack—frisked and leaped about in +a curious way. A strange smell had reached them on the wind, and when +the loud, fearful steps were out of hearing, it might pay them to creep +down, one by one, and investigate its cause.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIIIC" id="VIIIC"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p>The gray circle about the fire was growing impatient. Snowbird waited to +the last instant before she admitted this fact. But it is possible only +so long to deny the truth of a thing that all the senses verify, and +that moment for her was past.</p> + +<p>At first the wolves had lingered in the deepest shadow and were only +visible in profile against the gray snow. But as the night wore on, they +became increasingly careless. They crept up to the very edge of the +little circle of firelight; and when a high-leaping flame threw a gleam +over them, they didn't shrink. She had only to look up to see that +age-old circle of fire—bright dots, two and two—at every side.</p> + +<p>It is an instinct in the hunting creatures to remain silent before the +attack. The triumph cries come afterward. But they seemed no longer +anxious about this, either. Sometimes she would hear their footfall as +they leaped in the snow, and what excitement stirred them she didn't +dare to think. Quite often one of them would snarl softly,—a strange +sound in the darkness.</p> + +<p>She noticed that when she went to her hands and knees, laboriously to +cut a piece of the drier wood from the rain-soaked, rotted snag that was +her principal supply of fuel, every wolf would leap forward, only to +draw back when she stood straight again. At such times she saw them +perfectly plainly,—their gaunt bodies, their eyes lighted with the +insanity of famine, their ivory fangs that glistened in the firelight. +She worked desperately to keep the fire burning bright. She dared not +neglect it for a moment. Except for the single pistol ball that she +could afford to expend on the wolves—of the three she had—the fire was +her last defense.</p> + +<p>But it was a losing fight. The rain-soaked wood smoked without flame, +the comparatively dry core with which Dan had started the fire had +burned down, and the green wood, hacked with such heart-breaking +difficulty from the saplings that Dan had cut, needed the most tireless +attention to burn at all.</p> + +<p>When Dan had gone, these little trees were well within the circle of the +wolves. Unfortunately, the circle had drawn in past them. Nevertheless, +now that the last of the drier dead wood was consumed, she shouldered +her ax and walked straight toward the gray, crouching bodies in the +snow. For a tragic second she thought that the nearest of them was going +to stand its ground. But almost when she was in striking range, and its +body was sinking to the snow in preparation for a leap, it skulked back +into the shadow. Exhausted as she was, it seemed to her that she chopped +endlessly to cut away one little length. The ax blade was dull, the +handle awkward in her hand, she could scarcely stand on her broken +snowshoes, and worse, the ice crust broke beneath her blows, burying the +sapling in the snow. She noticed that every time she bent to strike a +blow, the circle would plunge a step nearer her, withdrawing as she +straightened again.</p> + +<p>Books of woodcraft often describe with what ease a fire may be built and +maintained in wet snow. It works fairly well in theory, but it is a +heart-breaking task in practice. Under such difficulties as she worked, +it became one of those dreadful undertakings that partake of a nightmare +quality,—the walking of a treadmill or the sweeping of waves from the +shore.</p> + +<p>When she secured the first length, her fire was almost extinguished. It +threw a fault cloud of smoke into the air, but the flame was almost +gone. The darkness dropped about her, and the wolves came stealing over +the snow. She worked furiously, with the strength of desperation, and +little by little she won back a tiny flame.</p> + +<p>Her nervous vitality was flowing from her in a frightful stream. Too +long she had toiled without food in the constant presence of danger, and +she was very near indeed to utter exhaustion. But at the same time she +knew she must not faint. That was one thing she could not do,—to fall +unconscious before the last of her three cartridges was expended in the +right way.</p> + +<p>Again she went forth to the sapling, and this time it seemed to her that +if she simply tossed the ax through the air, she could fell one of the +gray crowd. But when she stooped to pick it up—She didn't finish the +thought. She turned to coax the fire. And then she leaned sobbing over +the sled.</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" she cried. "He won't come back. What's the use of +fighting any more?"</p> + +<p>"There's always use of fighting," her father told her. He seemed to +speak with difficulty, and his face looked strange and white. The cold +and the exposure were having their effect on his weakened system, and +unconsciousness was a near shadow indeed. "But, dearest,—if I could +only make you do what I want you to—"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"You're able to climb a tree, and if you'd take these coats, you +wouldn't freeze by morning. If you'd only have the strength—"</p> + +<p>"And see you torn to pieces!"</p> + +<p>"I'm old, dear—and very tired—and I'd crawl away into the shadows, +where you couldn't see. There's no use mincing words, Snowbird. You're a +brave girl—always have been since a little thing, as God is my +Judge—and you know we must face the truth. Better one of us die than +both. And I promise—I'll never feel their fangs. And I won't take your +pistol with me either."</p> + +<p>Her thought flashed to the clasp hunting knife that he carried in his +pocket. But her eyes lighted, and she bent and kissed him. And the +wolves leaped forward even at this.</p> + +<p>"We'll stay it out," she told him. "We'll fight it to the last—just as +Dan would want us to do. Besides—it would only mean the same fate for +me, in a little while. I couldn't cling up there forever—and Dan won't +come back."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>She was wholly unable to gain on the fire. Only by dint of the most +heart-breaking toil was she able to secure any dry fuel for it at all. +Every length of wood she cut had to be scraped of bark, and half the +time the fire was only a sickly column of white smoke. It became +increasingly difficult to swing the ax. The trail was almost at its end.</p> + +<p>The after-midnight hours drew one by one across the face of the +wilderness, and she thought that the deepening cold presaged dawn. Her +fingers were numb. Her nerve control was breaking; she could no longer +drive a straight blow with the ax. The number of the wolves seemed to be +increasing: every way she looked she could see them leaping. Or was this +just hysteria? Surely the battle could go on but a few moments more. The +wolves themselves, sensing dawn, were losing the last of their +cowardice.</p> + +<p>Once more she went to one of the saplings, but she stumbled and almost +went to her face at the first blow. It was the instant that her gray +watchers had been waiting for. The wolf that stood nearest leaped—a +gray streak out of the shadow—and every wolf in the pack shot forward +with a yell. It was a short, expectant cry; but it chopped off short. +For with a half-sob, and seemingly without mental process, she aimed her +pistol and fired.</p> + +<p>A fast-leaping wolf is one of the most difficult pistol targets that can +be imagined. It bordered on the miraculous that she did not miss him +altogether. Her nerves were torn, their control over her muscles largely +gone. Yet the bullet coursed down through the lungs, inflicting a mortal +wound.</p> + +<p>The wolf had leaped for her throat; but he fell short. She staggered +from a blow, and she heard a curious sound in the region of her hip. But +she didn't know that the fangs had gone home in her soft flesh. The wolf +rolled on the ground; and if her pistol had possessed the shocking power +of a rifle, he would have never got up again. As it was, he shrieked +once, then sped off in the darkness to die. Five or six of the nearest +wolves, catching the smell of his blood, bayed and sped after him.</p> + +<p>But the remainder of the great pack—fully fifteen of the gray, gaunt +creatures—came stealing across the snow toward her. White fangs had +gone home; and a new madness was in the air.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Straining into the silence, a perfectly straight line between Cranston's +camp and Snowbird's, Dan Failing came mushing across the snow. His sense +of direction had never been obliged to stand such a test as this before. +Snowbird's fire was a single dot on a vast plateau; yet he had gone +straight toward it.</p> + +<p>He was risking everything for the sake of speed. He gave no heed to the +fallen timber that might have torn the web of his snowshoes to shreds. +Because he shut out all thought of it, he had no feeling of fatigue. The +fight with Cranston had been a frightful strain on muscle and nerve; but +he scarcely remembered it now. His whole purpose was to return to +Snowbird before the wolves lost the last of their cowardice.</p> + +<p>The jerked venison that he had munched had brought him back much of his +strength. He was wholly unconscious of his heavy pack. Never did he +glide so swiftly, so softly, with such unerring step; and it was nothing +more or less than a perfect expression of the ironclad control that his +steel nerves had over his muscles.</p> + +<p>Then, through the silence, he heard the shout of the pack as the wolf +had leaped at Snowbird. He knew what it meant. The wolves were attacking +then, and a great flood of black, hating bitterness poured over him at +the thought he had been too late. It had all been in vain, and before +the thought could fully go home, he heard the dim, far-off crack of a +pistol.</p> + +<p>Was that the first of the three shots, the one she might expend on the +wolves, or had the first two already been spent and was she taking the +last gateway of escape? Perhaps even now Lennox was lying still on the +sled, and she was standing before the ruin of her fire, praying that her +soul might have wings. He shouted with all the power of his lungs across +the snow.</p> + +<p>But Snowbird only heard the soft glide of the wolves in the snow. The +wind was blowing toward Dan; and while he had heard the loud chorus of +the pack, one of the most far-carrying cries, and the penetrating crack +of a pistol, she couldn't hear his answering shout. In fact, the +wilderness seemed preternaturally still. All was breathless, heavy with +suspense, and she stood, just as Dan had thought, between the ruin of +her fire and the sled, and she looked with straight eyes to the oncoming +wolves.</p> + +<p>"Hurry, Snowbird," Lennox was whispering. "Give me the pistol—for that +last work. We have only a moment more."</p> + +<p>He looked very calm and brave, half-raised as he was on the sled, and +perhaps a half-smile lingered at his bearded lips. And the bravest thing +of all was that to spare her, he was willing to take the little weapon +from her hand to use it in its last service. She tried to smile at him, +then crept over to his side.</p> + +<p>The strain was over. They knew what they had to face. She put the +pistol in his steady hand.</p> + +<p>His hand lowered to his side and he sat waiting. The moments passed. The +wolves seemed to be waiting too, for the last flickering tongue of the +little fire to die away. The last of her fuel was ignited and burning +out; they were crouched and ready to spring if she should venture forth +after more. The darkness closed down deeper, and at last only a column +of smoke remained.</p> + +<p>It was nothing to be afraid of. The great, gray leader of the pack, a +wolf that weighed nearly one hundred pounds, began slowly and +deliberately to set his muscles for the spring. It was the same as when +the great bull elk comes to bay at the base of the cliffs: usually some +one wolf, often the great pack leader, wishing to remind his followers +of his might, or else some full-grown male proud in his strength, will +attack alone. Because this was the noblest game that the pack had ever +faced, the leader chose to make the first leap himself. It was true that +these two had neither such horns nor razor-edged hoofs as the elk, yet +they had eyes that chilled his heart when he tried to look at them. But +one was lying almost prone, and the fire was out. Besides, the madness +of starvation, intensified ten times by their terrible realization of +the wound at her hip, was upon the pack as never before. The muscles +bunched at his lean flanks.</p> + +<p>But as Snowbird and her father gazed at him in fascinated horror, the +great wolf suddenly smashed down in the snow. She was aware of its +curious, utter collapse actually before the sound of the rifle shot that +occasioned it had penetrated her consciousness. It was a perfect shot at +long range; and for a long instant her tortured faculties refused to +accept the truth.</p> + +<p>Then the rifle spoke again, and a second wolf—a large male that +crouched on the other side of the sled—fell kicking in the snow. The +pack had leaped forward at the first death; but they halted at the +second. And then terror came to them when the third wolf suddenly opened +its savage lips and screamed in the death agony.</p> + +<p>Up to this time, except for the report of the rifle, the attack had been +made in utter silence. The reason was just that both breath and nervous +force are needed to shout; and Dan Failing could afford to waste neither +of these vital forces. He had dropped to his knee, and was firing again +and again, his gray eyes looking clear and straight along the barrel, +his fingers without jerk or tremor pressing again and again at the +trigger, his hands holding the rifle as in a vice. Every nerve and +muscle were completely in his command. The distance was far, yet he shot +with deadly, amazing accuracy. The wolves were within a few feet of the +girl, and a fraction's waver in the gun barrel might have sped his +bullet toward her.</p> + +<p>"It's Dan Failing," Lennox shouted as the fourth wolf died.</p> + +<p>Then Snowbird snatched her pistol from her father's hand and opened +fire. The two shells were no longer needed to free herself and her +father from the agony of fangs. She took careful aim, and although a +pistol is never as accurate or as powerful as a rifle, she killed one +wolf and wounded another.</p> + +<p>Frenzied in their savagery, three or four of the remaining wolves leaped +at the body of one of the wounded; but the others scattered in all +directions. Still Dan fired with the same unbelievable accuracy, and +still the wolves died in the snow. The girl and the man were screaming +now in the frenzied joy of deliverance. The wolves scurried frantically +among the trees; and some of them unknowingly ran full in the face of +their enemy, to be shot down without mercy. And few indeed were those +that escaped,—to collect on a distant ridge, and, perhaps, to be +haunted in dreams by a Death that came out of the shadows to blast the +pack.</p> + +<p>Again the pack-song would be despairing and strange in the winter +nights,—that age-old chant of Famine and Fear and the long war of +existence with only Death and Darkness in the end. And because it is the +voice of the wilderness itself, the tenderfoot that camps in the +evergreen forest will listen, and his talk will die at his lips, and he +will have the beginnings of knowledge. And perhaps he will wonder if God +has given him the thews and fiber to meet the wilderness breast to +breast as Dan had met it: to remain and to fight and to conquer. And +thereby his metal will be tested in the eyes of the Red Gods.</p> + +<p>Snowbird stood waiting in the snow, arms stretched to her forester as +Dan came running through the wood. But his arms were wider yet, and she +went softly into them.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"We will take it easy from now on," Dan Failing told them, after the +camp was cleared of its dead and the fire was built high. "We have +plenty of food; and we will travel a little while each day and make warm +camps at night. We'll have friendship fires, just as sometimes we used +to build on the ridge."</p> + +<p>"But after you get down into the valleys?" Lennox asked anxiously. "Are +you and Snowbird coming up here to live?"</p> + +<p>The silence fell over their camp; and a wounded wolf whined in the +darkness. "Do you think I could leave it now?" Dan asked. By no gift of +words could he have explained why; yet he knew that by token of his +conquest, his spirit was wedded to the dark forests forever. "But heaven +knows what I'll do for a living."</p> + +<p>Snowbird crept near him, and her eyes shone in the bright firelight. +"I've solved that," she said. "You know you studied forestry—and I told +the supervisor at the station how much you knew about it. I wasn't going +to tell you until—until certain things happened—and now they have +happened, I can't wait another instant. He said that with a little more +study you could get into the Forest Service—take an examination and +become a ranger. You're a natural forester if one ever lived, and you'd +love the work."</p> + +<p>"Besides," Lennox added, "it would clip my Snowbird's wings to make her +live on the plains. My big house will be rebuilt, children. There will +be fires in the fireplace on the fall nights. There is no use of +thinking of the plains."</p> + +<p>"And there's going to be a smaller house—just a cottage at first—right +beside it," Dan replied. He could go back to his forests, after all. He +wouldn't have to throw away his birthright, fought for so hard; and it +seemed to him no other occupation could offer so much as that of the +forest rangers,—those silent, cool-nerved guardians of the forest and +keepers of its keys.</p> + +<p>For a long time Snowbird and he stood together at the edge of the +firelight, their bodies warm from the glow, their hearts brimming with +words they could not utter. Words always come hard to the mountain +people. They are folk of action, and Dan, rather than to words, trusted +to the yearning of his arms.</p> + +<p>"We're made for each other, Snowbird darling," he told her breathlessly +at last. "And at last I can claim what I've been waiting for all these +months."</p> + +<p>He claimed it; and in open defiance to all civil law, he collected fully +one hundred times in the next few minutes. But it didn't particularly +matter, and Snowbird didn't even turn her face. "Maybe you've forgotten +you claimed it when you first came back too," she said.</p> + +<p>So he had. It had completely slipped his mind, in the excitement of his +fight with the wolf pack. And then while Lennox pretended to be asleep, +they sat, breathless with happiness, on the edge of the sled and watched +the dawn come out.</p> + +<p>They had never seen the snow so lovely in the sunlight.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Voice of the Pack, by Edison Marshall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE OF THE PACK *** + +***** This file should be named 33877-h.htm or 33877-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/7/33877/ + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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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 Voice of the Pack + +Author: Edison Marshall + +Release Date: October 20, 2010 [EBook #33877] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE OF THE PACK *** + + + + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE VOICE OF THE PACK + + By EDISON MARSHALL + + + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + Publishers New York + + Published by arrangement with Little, Brown, and Company + + _Copyright, 1920_, + By Little, Brown, and Company. + + _All rights reserved_ + + Published, April, 1920 + Reprinted, May, 1920 + + TO MY FATHER + GEORGE EDWARD MARSHALL + OF MEDFORD, OREGON + HIMSELF A SON OF FRONTIERSMEN + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PROLOGUE + +BOOK ONE--REPATRIATION + +BOOK TWO--THE DEBT + +BOOK THREE--THE PAYMENT + + + + +THE VOICE OF THE PACK + + + + +PROLOGUE + + If one can just lie close enough to the breast of the + wilderness, he can't help but be imbued with some of the life + that pulses therein.--_From a Frontiersman's Diary_. + + +Long ago, when the great city of Gitcheapolis was a rather small, untidy +hamlet in the middle of a plain, it used to be that a pool of water, +possibly two hundred feet square, gathered every spring immediately back +of the courthouse. The snow falls thick and heavy in Gitcheapolis in +winter; and the pond was nothing more than snow water that the +inefficient drainage system of the city did not quite absorb. Now snow +water is occasionally the most limpid, melted-crystal thing in the +world. There are places just two thousand miles west of Gitcheapolis +where you can see it pouring pure and fresh off of the snow fields, +scouring out a ravine from the great rock wall of a mountain side, +leaping faster than a deer leaps--and when you speak of the speed of a +descending deer you speak of something the usual mortal eye can +scarcely follow--from cataract to cataract; and the sight is always a +pleasing one to behold. Incidentally, these same snow streams are quite +often simply swarming with trout,--brook and cutthroat, steelhead and +even those speckled fellows that fishermen call Dolly Vardens for some +reason that no one has ever quite been able to make out. They are to be +found in every ripple, and they bite at a fly as if they were going to +crush the steel hook into dust between their teeth, and the cold water +gives them spirit to fight until the last breath of strength is gone +from their beautiful bodies. How they came there, and what their purpose +is in ever climbing up the river that leads nowhere but to a snow bank, +no one exactly knows. + +The snow water back of the courthouse was not like this at all. Besides +being the despair of the plumbers and the city engineer, it was a severe +strain on the beauty-loving instincts of every inhabitant in the town +who had any such instincts. It was muddy and murky and generally +distasteful; and lastly, there were no trout in it. Neither were there +any mud cat such as were occasionally to be caught in the Gitcheapolis +River. + +A little boy played at the edge of the water, this spring day of long +ago. Except for his interest in the pond, it would have been scarcely +worth while to go to the trouble of explaining that it contained no +fish. He, however, bitterly regretted the fact. In truth, he sometimes +liked to believe that it did contain fish, very sleepy fish that never +made a ripple, and as he had an uncommon imagination he was sometimes +able to convince himself that this was so. But he never took hook and +line and played at fishing. He was too much afraid of the laughter of +his boy friends. His mother probably wouldn't object if he fished here, +he thought, particularly if he were careful not to get his shoes covered +with mud. But she wouldn't let him go down to Gitcheapolis Creek to fish +with the other boys for mud cat. He was not very strong, she thought, +and it was a rough sport anyway, and besides,--she didn't think he +wanted to go very badly. As mothers are usually particularly +understanding, this was a curious thing. + +The truth was that little Dan Failing wanted to fish almost as much as +he wanted to live. He would dream about it of nights. His blood would +glow with the thought of it in the spring-time. Women the world over +will have a hard time believing what an intense, heart-devouring passion +the love of the chase can be, whether it is for fishing or hunting or +merely knocking golf balls into a little hole upon a green. Sometimes +they don't remember that this instinct is just as much a part of most +men, and thus most boys, as their hands or their lips. It was acquired +by just as laborious a process,--the lives of uncounted thousands of +ancestors who fished and hunted for a living. + +It was true that little Dan didn't look the part. Even then he showed +signs of physical frailty. His eyes looked rather large, and his cheeks +were not the color of fresh sirloin as they should have been. In fact, +one would have had to look very hard to see any color in them at all. +These facts are interesting from the light they throw upon the next +glimpse of Dan, fully twenty years later. + +This story isn't about the pool of snow water; it is only partly about +Gitcheapolis. "Gitche" means great in the Indian language, and every one +knows what "apolis" means. There are a dozen cities in the +middle-western part of the United States just like it--with Indian +names, with muddy, snow-water pools, with slow rivers in which only mud +cat live--utterly surrounded by endless fields that slope levelly and +evenly to a drab horizon. And because that land is what it is, because +there are such cities as Gitcheapolis, there has sprung up in this +decade a far-seeing breed of men. They couldn't help but learn to see +far, on such prairies. And, like little Dan by the pool, they did all +their hunting and their fishing and exercised many of the instincts that +a thousand generations of wild men had instilled in them, in their +dreams alone. It was great exercise for the imagination. And perhaps +that has had something to do with the size of the crop of writers and +poets and artists that is now being harvested in the Middle West. + +Except for the fact that it was the background for the earliest picture +of little Dan, the pool back of the courthouse has very little +importance in his story. It did, however, afford an illustration to him +of one of the really astonishing truths of life. He saw a shadow in the +water that he pretended he thought might be a fish. He threw a stone at +it. + +The only thing that happened was a splash, and then a slowly widening +ripple. The circumference of the ripple grew ever larger, extended and +widened, and finally died at the edge of the shore. It set little Dan to +thinking. He wondered if, had the pool been larger, the ripple still +would have spread; and if the pool had been eternity, whether the ripple +would have gone on forever. At the time he did not know the laws of +cause and effect. Later, when Gitcheapolis was great and prosperous and +no longer untidy, he was going to find out that a cause is nothing but a +rock thrown into a pond of infinity, and the ripple that is its effect +keeps growing and growing forever. + +It is a very old theme, but the astonishment it creates is always new. A +man once figured out that if Clovis had spared one life that he +took--say that of the under-chief whose skull he shattered to pay him +for breaking the vase of Soissons--there would be to-day the same races +but an entirely different set of individuals. The effect would grow and +grow as the years passed. The man's progeny each in turn would leave his +mark upon the world, and the result would be--too vast to contemplate. +The little incident that is the real beginning of this story was of no +more importance than a pebble thrown into the snow-water pond; but its +effect was to remove the life of Dan Failing, since grown up, far out of +the realms of the ordinary. + +And that brings all matters down to 1919, in the last days of a +particularly sleepy summer. You would hardly know Gitcheapolis now. It +is true that the snows still fall deep in winter, but the city engineer +has finally solved the problem of the pool back of the courthouse. In +fact, the courthouse itself is gone, and rebuilt in a more pretentious +section of the city. The business district has increased tenfold. And +the place where used to be the pool and the playground of Dan Failing is +now laid off in as green and pretty a city park as one could wish to +see. + +The evidence points to the conclusion that the story some of the oldest +settlers told about this district was really so. They say that forty and +fifty and maybe seventy-five years ago, the quarter-section where the +park was laid out was a green little glade, with a real, natural lake in +the center. Later the lake was drained to raise corn, and the fish +therein--many of them such noble fish as perch and bass--all died in the +sun-baked mud. The pool that had gathered yearly was just the lake +trying, like a spent prize fighter, to come back. And it is rather +singular that buildings have been torn down and money has been spent to +restore the little glade to its original charm; and now construction has +been started to build an artificial lake in the center. One would be +inclined to wonder why things weren't kept the way they were in the +first place. But that is the way of cities. + +Some day, when the city becomes more prosperous, a pair of swans and a +herd of deer are going to be introduced, to restore some of the natural +wild life of the park. But in the summer of 1919, a few small birds and +possibly half a dozen pairs of squirrels were the extent and limit of +the wild creatures. And at the moment this story opens, one of these +squirrels was perched on a wide-spreading limb over-arching a gravel +path that slanted through the sunlit park. The squirrel was hungry. He +wished that some one would come along with a nut. + +There was a bench beneath the tree. If there had not been, the life of +Dan Failing would have been entirely different. In fact, as the events +will show, there wouldn't have been any life worth talking about at all. +If the squirrel had been on any other tree, if he hadn't been hungry, if +any one of a dozen other things hadn't been as they were, Dan Failing +would have never gone back to the land of his people. The little +bushy-tailed fellow on the tree limb was the squirrel of Destiny! + + + + +BOOK ONE + +REPATRIATION + + + + +I + + +Dan Failing stepped out of the elevator and was at once absorbed in the +crowd that ever surged up and down Broad Street. Where the crowd came +from, or what it was doing, or where it was going was one of the +mysteries of Gitcheapolis. It appealed to a person rather as does a +river: eternal, infinite, having no control over its direction or +movement, but only subject to vast, underlying natural laws. In this +case, the laws were neither gravity nor cohesion, but rather unnamed +laws that go clear back to the struggle for existence and +self-preservation. Once in the crowd, Failing surrendered up all +individuality. He was just one of the ordinary drops of water, not an +interesting, elaborate, physical and chemical combination to be studied +on the slide of a microscope. No one glanced at him in particular. He +was enough like the other drops of water not to attract attention. He +wore fairly passable clothes, neither rich nor shabby. He was a tall +man, but gave no impression of strength because of the exceeding +spareness of his frame. As long as he remained in the crowd, he wasn't +important enough to be studied. But soon he turned off, through the +park, and straightway found himself alone. + +The noise and bustle of the crowd--never loud or startling, but so +continuous that the senses are scarcely more aware of them than of the +beating of one's own heart--suddenly and utterly died almost at the very +border of the park. It was as if an ax had chopped them off, and left +the silence of the wild place. The gravel path that slanted through the +green lawns did not lead anywhere in particular. It made a big loop and +came out almost where it went in. Perhaps that is the reason that the +busy crowds did not launch forth upon it. Crowds, like electricity, take +the shortest course. Moreover, the hour was still some distance from +noon, and the afternoon pleasure seekers had not yet come. But the +morning had advanced far enough so that all the old castaways that had +slept in the park had departed. Dan had the path all to himself. + +Although he had plenty of other things to think about, the phenomena of +the sudden silence came home to him very straight indeed. The noise from +the street seemed wholly unable to penetrate the thick branches of the +trees. He could even hear the leaves whisking and flicking together, +and when a man can discern this, he can hear the cushions of a mountain +lion on a trail at night. Of course Dan Failing had never heard a +mountain lion. Except on the railroad tracks between, he had never +really been away from cities in his life. + +At once his thought went back to the doctor's words. Dan had a very +retentive memory, as well as an extra fine imagination. The two always +seem to go together. The words were still repeating themselves over and +over in his ears, and the doctor's face was still before his eyes. It +had been a kind face; the lips had even curled in a little smile of +encouragement. But the doctor had been perfectly frank, entirely +straightforward. Dan was glad that he had. At least, he was rid of the +dreadful uncertainty. There had been no evasion in his verdict. + +"I've made every test," he said. "They're pretty well shot. Of course, +you can go to some sanitarium, if you've got the money. If you +haven't--enjoy yourself all you can for about six months." + +Dan's voice had been perfectly cool and sure when he replied. He had +smiled a little, too. He was still rather proud of that smile. "Six +months? Isn't that rather short?" + +"Maybe a whole lot shorter. I think that's the limit." + +There was the situation: Dan Failing had but six months to live. Of +course, the doctor said, if he had the money he could go to a +sanitarium. But he had spoken entirely hopelessly. Besides, Dan didn't +have the money. He pushed all thought of sanitariums out of his mind. +Instead, he began to wonder whether his mother had been entirely wise in +her effort to keep him from the "rough games" of the boys of his own +age. He realized now that he had been an under-weight all his +life,--that the frailty that had thrust him to the edge of the grave had +begun in his earliest boyhood. But it wasn't that he was born with +physical handicaps. He had weighed a full ten pounds; and the doctor had +told his father that a sturdier little chap was not to be found in any +maternity bed in the whole city. But his mother was convinced that the +child was delicate and must be sheltered. Never in all the history of +his family, so far as Dan knew, had there been a death from the malady +that afflicted him. Yet his sentence was signed and sealed. + +But he harbored no resentment against his mother. It was all in the +game. She had done what she thought was best. And he began to wonder in +what way he could get the greatest pleasure from his last six months of +life. + +"Good Lord!" he suddenly breathed. "I may not even be here to see the +snows come!" Perhaps there was a grim note in his voice. There was +certainly no tragedy, no offensive sentimentality. He was looking the +matter in the face. But it was true that Dan had always been partial to +the winter season. When the snow lay all over the farmlands and bowed +down the limbs of the trees, it had always wakened a curious flood of +feelings in the wasted man. It seemed to him that he could remember +other winters, wherein the snow lay for endless miles over an endless +wilderness, and here and there were strange, many-toed tracks that could +be followed in the icy dawns. He didn't ever know just what made the +tracks, except that they were creatures of fang and talon that no law +had ever tamed. But of course it was just a fancy. He wasn't in the +least misled about it. He knew that he had never, in his lifetime, seen +the wilderness. Of course his grandfather had been a frontiersman of the +first order, and all his ancestors before him--a rangy, hardy breed +whose wings would crumple in civilization--but he himself had always +lived in cities. Yet the falling snows, soft and gentle but with a kind +of remorselessness he could sense but could not understand, had always +stirred him. He'd often imagined that he would like to see the forests +in winter. He knew something about forests. He had gone one year to +college and had studied all the forestry that the university heads would +let him take. Later he had read endless books on the same subject. But +the knowledge had never done him any good. Except for a few boyish +dreams, he never imagined that it would. + +In him you could see a reflection of the boy that played beside the pond +of snow water, twenty years before. His dark gray eyes were still rather +large and perhaps the wasted flesh around them made them seem larger +than they were. But it was a little hard to see them, as he wore large +glasses. His mother had been sure, years before, that he needed glasses; +and she had easily found an oculist that agreed with her. + +Now that he was alone on the path, the utter absence of color in his +cheeks was startling. That meant the absence of red,--that warm glow of +the blood, eager and alive in his veins. There was, indeed, another +color, visible only because of the stark whiteness of his skin. He was +newly shaven, and his lips and chin looked somewhat blue from the heavy +growth of hair under the skin. Perhaps an observer would have noticed +lean hands, with big-knuckled fingers, a rather firm mouth, and closely +cropped dark hair. He was twenty-nine years of age, but he looked +somewhat older. He knew now that he was never going to be any older. A +doctor as sure of himself as the one he had just consulted couldn't +possibly be mistaken. + +It was rather refreshing to get into the park. Dan could think ever so +much more clearly. He never could think in a crowd. Someway, the +hurrying people always seemed to bewilder him. Here the leaves were +flicking and rustling over his head, and the shadows made a curious +patchwork on the green lawns. He became quite calm and reflective. And +then he sat down on a park bench, just beneath the spreading limb of a +great tree. He would sit here, he thought, until he finally decided what +he would do with his remaining six months. + +He hadn't been able to go to war. The recruiting officer had been very +kind but most determined. The boys had brought him great tales of +France. It might be nice to go to France and live in some country inn +until he died. But he didn't have very long to think upon this vein. For +at that instant the squirrel came down to see if he had a nut. + +It was the squirrel of Destiny. But Dan didn't know it then. + +Now it is true that it takes more than one generation for any wild +creature to get completely away from its natural timidity. Quite often a +person is met who has taken quail eggs from a nest and hatched them +beneath the warm body of a domestic hen. Just what is the value of such +a proceeding is rather hard to explain, as quail have neither the +instincts nor the training to enjoy life in a barnyard. Yet occasionally +it is done, and the little quail spend most of their days running +frantically up and down the coop, yearning for the wild, free spaces for +which they were created. But they haven't, as a rule, many days to spend +in this manner. Mostly they run until they die. + +The rule is said to work both ways. A tame canary, freed, will usually +try to return to his cage. And this is known to be true of human beings +just as of the wild creatures. There are certain breeds of men, used to +the far-lying hills, who, if inclosed in cities, run up and down them +until they die. The Indians, for instance, haven't ever been able to +adjust themselves to civilization. There are several thousand of them +now where once were millions. + +Bushy-tail was not particularly afraid of the human beings that passed +up and down the park, because he had learned by experience that they +usually attempted no harm to him. But, nevertheless, he had his +instincts. He didn't entirely trust them. Occasionally a child would +come with a bag of nuts, and he would sit on the grass not a dozen feet +away to gather such as were thrown to him. But all the time he kept one +sharp eye open for any sudden or dangerous motions. And every instinct +warned him against coming nearer than a dozen feet. After several +generations, probably the squirrels of this park would climb all over +its visitors and sniff in their ears and investigate the back of their +necks. But this wasn't the way of Bushy-tail. He had come too recently +from the wild places. And he wondered, most intensely, whether this +tall, forked creature had a pocket full of nuts. He swung down on the +grass to see. + +"Why, you little devil!" Dan said in a whisper. His eyes suddenly +sparkled with delight. And he forgot all about the doctor's words and +his own prospects in his bitter regrets that he had not brought a +pocketful of nuts. Unfortunately, he had never acquired the peanut +habit. His mother had always thought it vulgar. + +And then Dan did a curious thing. Even later, he didn't know why he did +it, or what gave him the idea that he could decoy the squirrel up to +him by doing it. That was his only purpose,--just to see how close the +squirrel would come to him. He thought he would like to look into the +bright eyes at close range. All he did was suddenly to freeze into one +position,--in an instant rendered as motionless as the rather +questionable-looking stone stork that was perched on the fountain. + +He didn't know it, at the time, but it was a most meritorious piece of +work. The truth was that he was acting solely by instinct. Men who have +lived long in the wilderness learn a very important secret in dealing +with wild animals. They know, in the first place, that intimacy with +them is solely a matter of sitting still and making no sudden motions. +It is motion, not shape, that frightens them. If a hunter is among a +herd of deer and wishes to pick the bucks off, one by one, he simply +sits still, moving his rifle with infinite caution, and the animal +intelligence does not extend far enough to interpret him as an enemy. +Instead of being afraid, the deer are usually only curious. + +Dan simply sat still. The squirrel was very close to him, and Dan seemed +to know by instinct that the movement of a single muscle would give him +away. So he sat as if he were posing before a photographer's camera. +The fact that he was able to do it is in itself important. It is +considerably easier to exercise with dumb-bells for five minutes than to +sit absolutely without motion for the same length of time. Hunters and +naturalists acquire the art with training. It was therefore rather +curious that Dan succeeded so well the first time he tried it. He had +sense enough to relax first, before he froze. Thus he didn't put such a +severe strain on his muscles. And this was another bit of wisdom that in +a tenderfoot would have caused much wonder in certain hairy old hunters +in the West. + +The squirrel, after ten seconds had elapsed, stood on his haunches to +see better. First he looked a long time with his left eye. Then he +turned his head and looked very carefully with his right. Then he backed +off a short distance and tried to get a focus with both. Then he came +some half-dozen steps nearer. + +A moment before he had been certain that a living creature--in fact one +of the most terrible and powerful living creatures in the world--had +been sitting on the park bench. Now his poor little brain was completely +addled. He was entirely ready to believe that his eyes had deceived him. + +All the time, Dan was sitting in perfectly plain sight. It wasn't as if +he were hiding. But the squirrel had learned to judge all life by its +motion alone, and he was completely at a loss to interpret or understand +a motionless figure. + +Bushy-tail drew off a little further, fully convinced at last that his +hopes of a nut from a child's hand were blasted. But he turned to look +once more. The figure still sat utterly inert. And all at once he forgot +his devouring hunger in the face of an overwhelming curiosity. + +He came somewhat nearer and looked a long time. Then he made a +half-circle about the bench, turning his head as he moved. He was more +puzzled than ever, but he was no longer afraid. His curiosity had become +so intense that no room for fear was left. And then he sprang upon the +park bench. + +Dan moved then. The movement consisted of a sudden heightening of the +light in his eyes. But the squirrel didn't see it. It takes a muscular +response to be visible to the eyes of the wild things. + +The squirrel crept slowly along the bench, stopping to sniff, stopping +to stare with one eye and another, just devoured from head to tail with +curiosity. And then he leaped on Dan's knee. + +He was quite convinced, by now, that this warm perch on which he stood +was the most singular and interesting object of his young life. It was +true that he was faintly worried by the smell that reached his nostrils. +But all it really did was further to incite his curiosity. He followed +the leg up to the hip and then perched on the elbow. And an instant more +he was poking a cold nose into Dan's neck. + +But if the squirrel was excited by all these developments, its amazement +was nothing compared to Dan's. It had been the most astounding incident +in the man's life. He sat still, tingling with delight. And in a single +flash of inspiration he knew he had come among his own people at last. + +The creatures of the wild,--they were the folk he had always secretly +loved and instinctively understood. His ancestors, for literally +generations, had been frontiersmen and outdoor naturalists who never +wrote books. Was it possible that they had bequeathed to him an +understanding and love of the wild that most men did not have? But +before he had time to meditate on this question, an idea seemed to pop +and flame like a Roman candle in his brain. He knew where he would spend +his last six months of life. + +His own grandfather had been a hunter and trapper and frontiersman in a +certain vast but little known Oregon forest. His son had moved to the +Eastern cities, but in Dan's garret there used to be old mementoes and +curios from these savage days,--a few claws and teeth, and a fragment of +an old diary. The call had come to him at last. Tenderfoot though he +was, Dan would go back to those forests, to spend his last six months of +life among the wild creatures that made them their home. + + + + +II + + +The dinner hour found Dan Failing in the public library of Gitcheapolis, +asking the girl who sat behind the desk if he might look at maps of +Oregon. He got out the whole question without coughing once, but in +spite of it she felt that he ought to be asking for California or +Arizona maps, rather than Oregon. People did not usually go to Oregon to +rid themselves of his malady. A librarian, as a rule, is a wonderfully +well-informed person; but her mental picture of Oregon was simply one +large rainstorm. She remembered that she used to believe that Oregon +people actually grew webs between their toes, and the place was thus +known as the Webfoot State. She didn't know that Oregon has almost as +many climates as the whole of nature has in stock,--snow in the east, +rain in the north, winds in the west, and sunshine in the south, with +all the grades between. There are certain sections where in midwinter +all hunters who do not particularly care to sink over their heads in +the level snow walk exclusively on snowshoes. There are others, not one +hundred miles distant, where any kind of snowstorm is as rare a +phenomenon as the seventeen-year locusts. Distances are rather vasty in +the West. For instance, the map that Dan Failing looked at did not seem +much larger than the map, say, of Maryland. Figures showed, however, +that at least two counties of Oregon were each as large as the whole +area of the former State. + +He remembered that his grandfather had lived in Southern Oregon. He +looked along the bottom of his map and discovered a whole empire, +ranging from gigantic sage plains to the east to dense forests along the +Pacific Ocean. Those sage flats, by the way, contain not only sage hens +as thick as poultry in a hen-yard and jack rabbits of a particularly +long-legged and hardy breed, but also America's one species of antelope. +Had Dan known that this was true, had he only been aware that these +antelope are without exception the fastest-running creatures upon the +face of the earth, he might have been tempted to go there instead of to +the land of his fathers. But all he saw on the map was a large brown +space marked at exceedingly long intervals with the name of a fort or +town. He began to search for Linkville. + +Time was when Linkville was one of the principal towns of Oregon. Dan +remembered the place because some of the time-yellowed letters his +grandfather had sent him had been mailed at a town that bore this name. +But he couldn't find Linkville on the map. Later he was to know the +reason,--that the town, halfway between the sage plains and the +mountains, had prospered and changed its name. He remembered that it was +located on one of those great fresh-water lakes of Southern Oregon; so, +giving up that search, he began to look for lakes. He found them in +plenty,--vast, unmeasured lakes that seemed to be distributed without +reason or sense over the whole southern end of the State. Near the +Klamath Lakes, seemingly the most imposing of all the fresh-water lakes +that the map revealed, he found a city named Klamath Falls. He put the +name down in his notebook. + +The map showed a particularly high, far-spreading range of mountains due +west of the city. Of course they were the Cascades; the map said so very +plainly. Then Dan knew he was getting home. His grandfather had lived +and trapped and died in these same wooded hills. Finally he located and +recorded the name of the largest city on the main railroad line that was +adjacent to the Cascades. + +The preparation for his departure took many days. He read many books on +flora and fauna. He bought sporting equipment. Knowing the usual ratio +between the respective pleasures of anticipation and realization, he did +not hurry himself at all. And one midnight he boarded a west-bound +train. + +There were none that he cared about bidding good-by. The sudden +realization of the fact brought a moment's wonder. He had not realized +that he had led such a lonely existence. There were men who were fitted +for living in cities, but perhaps he was not one of them. He saw the +station lights grow dim as the train pulled out. Soon he could discern +just a spark, here and there, from the city's outlying homes. And not +long after this, the silence and darkness of the farm lands closed down +upon the train. + +He sat for a long time in the vestibule of the sleeping car, thinking in +anticipation of this final adventure of his life. It is true that he had +not experienced many adventures. He had lived most of them in +imagination alone; or else, with tired eyes, he had read of the exploits +of other men. He was rather tremulous and exultant as he sank down into +his berth. + +He saw to it that at least a measure of preparation was made for his +coming. That night a long wire went out to the Chamber of Commerce of +one of the larger Southern Oregon cities. In it, he told the date of his +arrival and asked certain directions. He wanted to know the name of some +mountain rancher where possibly he might find board and room for the +remainder of the summer and the fall. He wanted shooting, and he +particularly cared to be near a river where trout might be found. They +never came up Gitcheapolis River, or leaped for flies in the pond back +of the courthouse. The further back from the paths of men, he wrote, the +greater would be his pleasure. And he signed the wire with his full +name: Dan Failing with a Henry in the middle, and a "III" at the end. + +He usually didn't sign his name in quite this manner. The people of +Gitcheapolis did not have particularly vivid memories of Dan's +grandfather. But it might be that a legend of the gray, straight +frontiersman who was his ancestor had still survived in these remote +Oregon wilds. The use of the full name would do no harm. + +Instead of hurting, it was a positive inspiration. The Chamber of +Commerce of the busy little Oregon city was not usually exceptionally +interested in stray hunters that wanted a boarding place for the summer. +Its business was finding country homes for orchardists in the pleasant +river valleys. But it happened that the recipient of the wire was one of +the oldest residents, a frontiersman himself, and it was one of the +traditions of the Old West that friendships were not soon forgotten. Dan +Failing I had been a legend in the old trapping and shooting days when +this man was young. So it came about that when Dan's train stopped at +Cheyenne, he found a telegram waiting him: + + "Any relation to Dan Failing of the Umpqua Divide?" + +Dan had never heard of the Umpqua Divide, but he couldn't doubt but that +the sender of the wire referred to his grandfather. He wired in the +affirmative. The head of the Chamber of Commerce received the wire, read +it, thrust it into his desk, and in the face of a really important piece +of business proceeded to forget all about it. Thus it came about that, +except for one thing, Dan Failing would have probably stepped off the +train at his destination wholly unheralded and unmet. The one thing that +changed his destiny was that at a meeting of a certain widely known +fraternal order the next night, the Chamber of Commerce crossed trails +with the Frontier in the person of another old resident who had his +home in the farthest reaches of the Umpqua Divide. The latter asked the +former to come up for a few days' shooting--the deer being fatter and +more numerous than any previous season since the days of the grizzlies. +For it is true that one of the most magnificent breed of bears that ever +walked the face of the earth once left their footprints, as of +flour-sacks in the mud, from one end of the region to another. + +"Too busy, I'm afraid," the Chamber of Commerce had replied. "But +Lennox--that reminds me. Do you remember old Dan Failing?" + +Lennox probed back into the years for a single instant, straightened out +all the kinks of his memory in less time than the wind straightens out +the folds of a flag, and turned a most interested face. "Remember him!" +he exclaimed. "I should say I do." The middle-aged man half-closed his +piercing, gray eyes. Those piercing eyes are a characteristic peculiar +to the mountain men, and whether they come from gazing over endless +miles of winter snow, or from some quality of steel that life in the +mountains imbues, no one is quite able to determine. + +"Listen, Steele," he said. "I saw Dan Failing make a bet once. I was +just a kid, but I wake up in my sleep to marvel at it. We had a full +long glimpse of a black-tail bounding up a long slope. It was just a +spike-buck, and Dan Failing said he could take the left-hand spike off +with one shot from his old Sharpe's. Three of us bet him--the whole +thing in less than two seconds. With the next shot, he'd get the deer. +He won the bet, and now if I ever forget Dan Failing, I want to die." + +"You're just the man I'm looking for, then. You're not going out till +the day after to-morrow?" + +"No." + +"On the limited, hitting here to-morrow morning, there's a grandson of +Dan Failing. His name is Dan Failing too, and he wants to go up to your +place to hunt. Stay all summer and pay board." + +Lennox's eyes said that he couldn't believe it was true. After a while +his tongue spoke, too. "Good Lord," he said. "I used to foller Dan +around--like old Shag, before he died, followed Snowbird. Of course he +can come. But he can't pay board." + +It was rather characteristic of the mountain men,--that the grandson of +Dan Failing couldn't possibly pay board. But Steele knew the ways of +cities and of men, and he only smiled. "He won't come, then," he +explained. "Anyway, have that out with him at the end of his stay. He +wants fishing, and you've got that in the North fork. He wants shooting, +and if there is a place in the United States with more wild animals +around the back door than at your house, I don't know where it is. +Moreover, you're a thousand miles back--" + +"Only one hundred, if you must know. But Steele--do you suppose he's the +man his grandfather was before him--that all the Failings have been +since the first days of the Oregon trail? If he is--well, my hat's off +to him before he steps off the train." + +The mountaineer's bronzed face was earnest and intent in the bright +lights of the club. Steele thought he had known this breed. Now he began +to have doubts of his own knowledge. "He won't be; don't count on it," +he said humbly. "The Failings have done much for this region, and I'm +glad enough to do a little to pay it back, but don't count much on this +Eastern boy. He's lived in cities; besides, he's a sick man. He said so +in his wire. You ought to know it before you take him in." + +The bronzed face changed; possibly a shadow of disappointment came into +his eyes. "A lunger, eh?" Lennox repeated. "Yes--it's true that if he'd +been like the other Failings, he'd never have been that. Why, Steele, +you couldn't have given that old man a cold if you'd tied him in the +Rogue River overnight. Of course you couldn't count on the line keeping +up forever. But I'll take him, for the memory of his grandfather." + +"You're not afraid to?" + +"Afraid, Hell! He can't infect those two strapping children of mine. +Snowbird weighs one hundred and twenty pounds and is hard as steel. +Never knew a sick day in her life. And you know Bill, of course." + +Yes, Steele knew Bill. Bill weighed two hundred pounds, and he would +choose the biggest of the steers he drove down to the lower levels in +the winter and, twisting its horns, would make it lay over on its side. +Besides, both of the men assumed that Dan must be only in the first +stages of his malady. + +And even as the men talked, the train that bore Dan Failing to the home +of his ancestors was entering for the first time the dark forests of +pine and fir that make the eternal background of the Northwest. The wind +came cool and infinitely fresh into the windows of the sleeping car, and +it brought, as camels bring myrrh from the East, strange, pungent odors +of balsam and mountain flower and warm earth, cooling after a day of +blasting sun. And these smells all came straight home to Dan. He was +wholly unable to understand the strange feeling of familiarity that he +had with them, a sensation that in his dreams he had known them always, +and that he must never go out of the range of them again. + + + + +III + + +Dan didn't see his host at first. For the first instant he was entirely +engrossed by a surging sense of disappointment,--a feeling that he had +been tricked and had only come to another city after all. He got down on +to the gravel of the station yard, and out on the gray street pavement +he heard the clang of a trolley car. Trolley cars didn't fit into his +picture of the West at all. Many automobiles were parked just beside the +station, some of them foreign cars of expensive makes, such as he +supposed would be wholly unknown on the frontier. A man in golf clothes +brushed his shoulder. + +It wasn't a large city; but there was certainly lack of any suggestion +of the frontier. But there were a number of things that Dan Failing did +not know about the West. One of the most important of them was the +curious way in which wildernesses and busy cities are sometimes mixed up +indiscriminately together, and how one can step out of a modern country +club to hear the coyotes wailing on the hills. He really had no right to +feel disappointed. He had simply come to the real West--that bewildering +land in which To-morrow and Yesterday sit right next to each other, with +no To-day between. The cities, often built on the dreams of the future, +sometimes are modern to such a point that they give many a sophisticated +Eastern man a decided shock. But quite often this quality extends to the +corporation limits and not a step further. Then, likely as not, they +drop sheer off, as over a precipice, into the utter wildness of the +Past. + +Dan looked up to the hills, and he felt better. He couldn't see them +plainly. The faint smoke of a distant forest fire half obscured them. +Yet he saw fold on fold of ridges of a rather peculiar blue in color, +and even his untrained eyes could see that they were clothed in forests +of evergreen. It is a strange thing about evergreen forests that they +never, even when one is close to them, appear to be really green. To a +distant eye, they range all the way from lavender to a pale sort of blue +for which no name has ever been invented. Just before dark, when, as all +mountaineers know, the sky turns green, the forests are simply curious, +dusky shadows. The pines are always dark. Perhaps, after all, they are +simply the symbol of the wilderness,--eternal, silent, and in a vague +way rather dark and sad. No one who really knows the mountains can +completely get away from their tone of sadness. Over the heads of the +green hills Dan could see a few great peaks; McLaughlin, even and +regular as a painted mountain; Wagner, with queer white gashes where the +snow still lay in its ravines, and to the southeast the misty range of +snow-covered hills that were the Siskeyous. He felt decidedly better. +And when he saw old Silas Lennox waiting patiently beside the station, +he felt he had come to the right place. + +It would be interesting to explain why Dan at once recognized the older +man for the breed he was. But unfortunately, there are certain of the +many voices that speak within the minds of human beings of which +scientists have never been able to take phonographic records. They +simply whisper their messages, and their hearer, without knowing why, +knows that he has heard the truth. Silas Lennox was not dressed in a way +that would distinguish him. It was true that he wore a flannel shirt, +riding trousers, and rather heavy, leathern boots. But sportsmen all +over the face of the earth wear this costume at sundry times. Mountain +men have a peculiar stride by which experienced persons can occasionally +recognize them; but Silas Lennox was standing still when Dan got his +first glimpse of him. The case resolves itself into a simple matter of +the things that could be read in Lennox's face. + +Dan disbelieved wholly in a book that told how to read characters at +sight. Yet at the first glance of the lean, bronzed face his heart gave +a curious little bound. A pair of gray eyes met his,--two fine black +points in a rather hard gray iris. They didn't look past him, or at +either side of him, or at his chin or his forehead. They looked right at +his own eyes. The skin around the eyes was burned brown by the sun, and +the flesh was so lean that the cheek bones showed plainly. The mouth was +straight; but yet it was neither savage nor cruel. It was simply +determined. + +But the strangest part of all was that Dan felt an actual sense of +familiarity with this kind of man. To his knowledge, he had never known +one before; and it was extremely doubtful if, in his middle-western +city, he had even seen the type. In spite of the fact that he thinks +nothing of starting out thirty miles across the snow on snowshoes, the +mountain man cannot be called an extensive traveler. He plans to go to +some great city once in a lifetime and dreams about it of nights, but +rather often the Death that is every one's next-door neighbor in the +wilderness comes in and cheats him out of the trip. Few of the breed had +ever come to Gitcheapolis. Yet all his life, Dan felt, he had known this +straight, gray-eyed mountain breed even better than he knew the boys +that went to college with him. At the time he didn't stop to wonder at +the feeling. He was too busy looking about. But the time was to come +when he would wonder and conclude that it was just another bit of +evidence pointing to the same conclusion. And besides this unexplainable +feeling of familiarity, he felt a sudden sense of peace, even a quiet +sort of exultation, such as a man feels when he gets back into his own +home country at last. + +Lennox came up with a light, silent tread and extended his hand. "You're +Dan Failing's grandson, aren't you?" he asked. "I'm Silas Lennox, who +used to know him when he lived on the Divide. You are coming to spend +the summer and fall on my ranch." + +The immediate result of these words, besides relief, was to set Dan +wondering how the old mountaineer had recognized him. He wondered if he +had any physical resemblance to his grandfather. But this hope was shot +to earth at once. His telegram had explained about his malady, and of +course the mountaineer had picked him out simply because he had the +mark of the disease on his face. As he shook hands, he tried his best +to read the mountaineer's expression. It was all too plain: an +undeniable look of disappointment. + +The truth was that even in spite of all the Chamber of Commerce head had +told him, Lennox had still hoped to find some image of the elder Dan +Failing in the face and body of his grandson. But at first there seemed +to be none at all. The great hunter and trapper who had tamed the +wilderness about the region of the Divide--as far as mortal man could +tame it--had a skin that was rather the color of old leather. The face +of this young man was wholly without tinge of color. Because of the +thick glasses, Lennox could not see the young man's eyes; but he didn't +think it likely they were at all like the eyes with which the elder +Failing saw his way through the wilderness at night. Of course he was +tall, just as the famous frontiersman had been, but while the elder +weighed one hundred and ninety pounds, bone and muscle, this man did not +touch one hundred and thirty. Evidently the years had brought degeneracy +to the Failing clan. Lennox was desolated by the thought. + +He helped Dan with his bag to a little wiry automobile that waited +beside the station. They got into the two front seats. + +"You'll be wondering at my taking you in a car--clear to the Divide," +Lennox explained. "But we mountain men can't afford to drive horses any +more where a car will go. This time of year I can make it fairly +easy--only about fifteen miles on low gear. But in the winter--it's +either a case of coming down on snowshoes or staying there." + +And a moment later they were starting up the long, curved road that led +to the Divide. + +During the hour that they were crossing over the foothills, on the way +to the big timber, Silas Lennox talked a great deal about the +frontiersman that had been Dan's grandfather. A mountain man does not +use profuse adjectives. He talks very simply and very straight, and +often there are long silences between his sentences. Yet he conveys his +ideas with entire clearness. + +Dan realized at once that if he could be, in Lennox's eyes, one fifth of +the man his grandfather had been, he would never have to fear again the +look of disappointment with which his host had greeted him at the +station. But instead of reaching that high place, he had only--death. He +was never to be one of this strong breed from which his people sprang. +Always they would accept him for the memories that they held of his +ancestors, pity him for his weakness, and possibly be kind enough to +deplore his death. He never need fear any actual expressions of scorn. +Lennox had a natural refinement that forbade it. Dan never knew a more +intense desire than that to make good in the eyes of these mountain men. +Far back, they had been his own people; and all men know that the +upholding of a family's name and honor has been one of the greatest +impulses for good conduct and great deeds since the beginnings of +civilization. But Dan pushed the hope out of his mind at once. He knew +what his destiny was in these quiet hills. And it was true that he began +to have secret regrets that he had come. But it wasn't that he was +disappointed in the land that was opening up before him. It fulfilled +every promise. His sole reason for regrets lay in the fact that now the +whole mountain world would know of the decay that had come upon his +people. Perhaps it would have been better to have left them to their +traditions. + +He had never dreamed that the fame of his grandfather had spread so far. +For the first ten miles, Dan listened to stories,--legends of a cold +nerve that simply could not be shaken; of a powerful, tireless physique; +of moral and physical strength that was seemingly without limit. Then, +as the foothills began to give way to the higher ridges, and the shadow +of the deeper forests fell upon the narrow, brown road, there began to +be long gaps in the talk. And soon they rode in utter silence, evidently +both of them absorbed in their own thoughts. + +Dan did not wonder at it at all. Perhaps he began to faintly understand +the reason for the silence and the reticence that is such a predominant +trait in the forest men. There is a quality in the big timber that +doesn't make for conversation, and no one has ever been completely +successful in explaining what it is. Perhaps there is a feeling of +insignificance, a sensation that is particularly insistent in the winter +snows. No man can feel like talking very loudly when he is the only +living creature within endless miles. The trees, towering and old, seem +to ignore him as a being too unimportant to notice. And besides, the +silence of the forest itself seems to get into the spirit, and the +great, quiet spaces that lie between tree and tree simply dry up the +springs of conversation. Dan did not feel oppressed at all. He merely +seemed to fall into the spirit of the woods, and no words came to his +lips. He began to watch the ever-changing vista that the curving road +revealed. + +First there had been brown hills, and here and there great heaps of +stone. The brush had been rather scrubby, and the trees somewhat sickly +and brown. But now, as the men mounted higher, they were coming into +open forest. The trees stood one and one, perfect, dark-limbed, and only +the carpet of their needles lay between. The change was evidenced in the +streams, too. They seemingly had not suffered from the drought that had +sucked up the valley streams. They were faster, whiter with foam, and +the noise of their falling waters carried farther through the still +woods. The road followed the long shoulder of a ridge, an easy grade of +perhaps six per cent, but Dan counted ridges sloping off until he was +tired. + +By now the smaller wild things of the mountains began to present +themselves a breathless instant beside the road. These little people +have an actual purpose in the hills other than to furnish food for the +larger forest creatures. They give a note of sociability, of +companionship, that is sorely needed to dull the edge of the utter, +stark lonesomeness and severity that is the usual tone of the mountains. +The fact that they all live under the snow in winter is one reason why +this season is especially dreadful to the spirit. + +Every tree trunk seemed to have its chipmunks, and they all appeared to +be suffering from the same delusion. They all were afflicted with the +idea that the car was trying to cut off their retreat, and only by +crossing the road in front of it could they save themselves. This idea +is a particularly prevalent one with wild animals; and it is the same +instinct that makes a domestic cow almost invariably cross the road in +front of a motorist. And it also explains why certain cowardly animals, +such as the wolf or cougar, will sometimes seemingly without a cause on +earth, make a desperate charge on a hunter. They think their retreat is +cut off, and they have to fight. Again and again the chipmunks crossed +at the risk of their lives. Sometimes the two men saw those big, +flat-footed rabbits that are especially constructed for moving about in +the winter snows, and more than once the grouse rose with a whir and +beat of wings. + +Every mile was an added delight to Dan. Not even wine could have brought +a brighter sparkle to his eyes. He had begun to experience a vague sort +of excitement, an emotion that was almost kin to exultation, over the +constant stir and movement of the forest life. He didn't know that a +bird dog feels the same when it gets to the uplands where the quail are +hiding. He had no acquaintance with bird dogs whatever. He hadn't +remembered that he had qualities in common with them,--a long line of +ancestors who had lived by hunting. + +Once, as they stopped the car to refill the radiator from a mountain +stream, Lennox looked at him with sudden curiosity. "You are getting a +thrill out of this, aren't you?" he asked wonderingly. + +It was a curious tone. Perhaps it was a hopeful tone, too. He spoke as +if he hardly understood. + +"A thrill!" Dan echoed. He spoke as a man speaks in the presence of some +great wonder. "Good Heavens, I never saw anything like it in my life." + +"In this very stream," the mountaineer told him joyously, "you may +occasionally catch trout that weigh three pounds." + +But as he got back into the car, the look of interest died out of +Lennox's eyes. Of course any man would be somewhat excited by his first +glimpse of the wilderness. It was not that he had inherited any of the +traits of his grandfather. It was absurd to hope that he had. And he +would soon get tired of the silences and want to go back to his cities. +He told his thought--that it would all soon grow old to him; and Dan +turned almost in anger. + +"You don't know," he said. "I didn't know myself, how I would feel about +it. I'm never going to leave the hills again." + +"You don't mean that." + +"But I do." He tried to speak further, but he coughed instead. "But I +couldn't if I wanted to. That cough tells you why, I guess." + +"You mean to say--" Silas Lennox turned in amazement. "You mean that +you're a--a goner? That you've given up hope of recovering?" + +"That's the impression I meant to convey. I've got a little over four +months--though I don't see that I'm any weaker than I was when the +doctor said I had six months. Those four will take me all through the +fall and the early winter. And I hope you won't feel that you've been +imposed upon--to have a dying man on your hands." + +"It isn't that." Silas Lennox threw his car into gear and started up the +long grade. And he drove clear to the top of it and into another glen +before he spoke again. Then he pointed to what looked to Dan like a +brown streak that melted into the thick brush. "That was a deer," he +said slowly. "Just a glimpse, but your grandfather could have got him +between the eyes. Most like as not, though, he'd have let him go. He +never killed except when he needed meat. But that--as you say--ain't the +impression I'm trying to convey." + +He seemed to be groping for words. + +"What is it, Mr. Lennox?" Dan asked. + +"Instead of being sorry, I'm mighty glad you've come," Lennox told him. +"It's not that I expect you to be like your grandfather. You haven't had +his chance. But it's always the way of true men, the world over, to come +back to their own kind to die. That deer we just saw--he's your people, +and so are all these ranchers that grub their lives out of the +forests--they are your people too. The bears and the elk, and even the +porcupines. Though you likely won't care for 'em, it's almost as if they +were your grandfather's own folks. And you couldn't have pleased the old +man's old friends any better, or done more for his memory, than to come +back to his own land for your last days." + +There were great depths of meaning in the simple words. There were +significances, such as the love that the mountain men have for their own +land, that came but dimly to Dan's perceptions. The words were strange, +yet Dan intuitively understood. It was as if a prodigal son had returned +at last, and although his birthright was squandered and he came only to +die, the people of his home would give him kindness and forgiveness, +even though they could not give him their respect. + + + + +IV + + +The Lennox home was a typical mountain ranch-house,--square, solid, +comforting in storm and wind. Bill was out to the gate when the car +drove up. He was a son of his father, a strong man in body and +personality. He too had heard of the elder Failing, and he opened his +eyes when he saw the slender youth that was his grandson. And he led the +way into the white-walled living room. + +The shadows of twilight were just falling; and Bill had already lighted +a fire in the fireplace to remove the chill that always descends with +the mountain night. The whole long room was ruddy and cheerful in its +glare. At once the elder Lennox drew a chair close to it for Dan. + +"You must be chilly and worn-out from the long ride," he suggested +quietly. He spoke in the tone a strong man invariably uses toward an +invalid. But while a moment before Dan had welcomed the sight of the +leaping, life-giving flames, he felt a curious resentment at the words. + +"I'm not cold," he said. "It's hardly dark yet. I'd sooner go outdoors +and look around." + +The elder man regarded him curiously, perhaps with the faintest glimmer +of admiration. "You'd better wait till to-morrow, Dan," he replied. +"Bill will have supper soon, anyway. To-morrow we'll walk up the ridge +and I'll see if I can show you a deer. You don't want to overdo too +much, right at first." + +"But, good Heavens! I'm not going to try to spare myself while I'm here. +It's too late for that." + +"Of course--but sit down now, anyway. I'm sorry that Snowbird isn't +here." + +"Snowbird is--" + +"My daughter. My boy, she can make a biscuit! That's not her name, of +course, but we've always called her that. She got tired of keeping house +and is working this summer. Poor Bill has to keep house for her, and no +wonder he's eager to take the stock down to the lower levels. I only +wish he hadn't brought 'em up this spring at all; I've lost dozens from +the coyotes." + +"But a coyote can't kill cattle--" + +"It can if it has hydrophobia, a common thing in the varmints this time +of year. But as I say, Bill will take the stock down next season, and +then Snowbird's work will be through, and she'll come back here." + +"Then she's down in the valley?" + +"Far from it. She's a mountain girl if one ever lived. Perhaps you don't +know the recent policy of the forest service to hire women when they can +be obtained. It was a policy started in wartimes and kept up now because +it is economical and efficient. She and a girl from college have a cabin +not five miles from here on old Bald Mountain, and they're doing lookout +duty." + +Dan wondered intensely what lookout duty might be. His thoughts went +back to his early study of forestry. "You see, Dan," Lennox said in +explanation, "the government loses thousands of dollars every year by +forest fire. A fire can be stopped easily if it is seen soon after it +starts. But let it burn awhile, in this dry season, and it's a terror--a +wall of flame that races through the forests and can hardly be stopped. +And maybe you don't realize how enormous this region is--literally +hundreds of miles across. We're the last outpost--there are four cabins, +if you can find them, in the first seventy miles back to town. So they +have to put lookouts on the high points, and now they're coming to the +use of aeroplanes so they can keep even a better watch. All summer and +until the rains come in the fall, they have to guard every minute, and +even then sometimes the fires get away from them. And one of the first +things a forester learns, Dan, is to be careful with fire." + +"Is that the way they are started--from the carelessness of campers?" + +"Partly. There's an old rule in the hills: put out every fire before you +leave it. Be careful with the cigar butts, too--even the coals of a +pipe. But of course the lightning starts many fires, and, I regret to +say, hundreds of them are started with matches." + +"But why on earth--" + +"It doesn't make very good sense, does it? Well, one reason is that +certain stockmen think that a burned forest makes good range--that the +undervegetation that springs up when the trees are burned makes good +feed for stock. And you must know, too, that there are two kinds of men +in the mountains. One kind--the real mountain man, such as your +grandfather was--lives just as well, just as clean as the ranchers in +the valley. Some of this kind are trappers or herders. But there's +another class too--the most unbelievably shiftless, ignorant people in +America. They have a few acres to raise crops, and they kill deer for +their hides, and most of all they make their living fighting forest +fires. A fire means work for every hill-billy in the region--often five +or six dollars a day and better food than they're used to. Moreover, +they can loaf on the job, put in claims for extra hours, and make what +to them is a fortune. + +"You'll likely see a few of the breed before--before your visit here is +ended. There's a family of 'em not three miles away--and that's real +neighborly in the mountains--by the name of Cranston. Bert Cranston +traps a little and makes moonshine; you'll probably see plenty of him +before the trip is over. Sometime I'll tell you of a little difficulty +that I had with him once. You needn't worry about him coming to this +house; he's already received his instructions in that matter. + +"But I see I'm getting all tangled up in my traces. Snowbird and a girl +friend from college got jobs this summer as lookouts--all through the +forest service they are hiring women for the work. They are more +vigilant than men, less inclined to take chances, and work cheaper. +These two girls have a cabin near a spring, and they cook their own +food, and are making what is big wages in the mountains. I'm rather +hoping she'll drop over for a few minutes to-night." + +"Good Lord--does she travel over these hills in the darkness?" + +The mountaineer laughed--a delighted sound that came somewhat curiously +from the bearded lips of the stern, dark man. "Dan, I'll swear she's +afraid of nothing that walks the face of the earth--and it isn't because +she hasn't had experiences either. She's a dead shot with a pistol, for +one thing. She's physically strong, and every muscle is hard as nails. +She used to have Shag, too--the best dog in all these mountains. She's a +mountain girl, I tell you; whoever wins her has got to be able to tame +her!" The mountaineer laughed again. "I sent her to school, of course, +but there was only one boy she'd look at--the athletic coach! And it +wasn't his fault that he didn't follow her back to the mountains." + +The call to supper came then, and Dan got his first sight of mountain +food. There were potatoes, newly dug, mountain vegetables that were +crisp and cold, a steak of peculiar shape, and a great bowl of purple +berries to be eaten with sugar and cream. Dan's appetite was not as a +rule particularly good. But evidently the long ride had affected him. He +simply didn't have the moral courage to refuse when the elder Lennox +heaped his plate. + +"Good Heavens, I can't eat all that," he said, as it was passed to him. +But the others laughed and told him to take heart. + +He took heart. It was a singular thing, but at that first bite his +sudden confidence in his gustatory ability almost overwhelmed him. All +his life he had avoided meat. His mother had always been convinced that +such a delicate child as he had been could not properly digest it. But +all at once he decided to forego his mother's philosophies for good and +all. There was certainly nothing to be gained by following them any +longer. So he cut himself a bite of the tender steak--fully half as +generous as the bites that Bill was consuming across the table. And its +first flavor simply filled him with delight. + +"What is this meat?" he asked. "I've certainly tasted it before." + +"I'll bet a few dollars that you haven't, if you've lived all your life +in the Middle West," Lennox answered. "Maybe you've got what the +scientists call an inherited memory of it. It's the kind of meat your +grandfather used to live on--venison." + +Both of them had seemed pleased that he liked the venison. And both +seemed boyishly eager to test his reaction to the great, wild +huckleberries that were the dessert of the simple meal. He tried them +with much ceremony. + +Their flavor really surprised him. They had a tang, a fragrance that was +quite unlike anything he had ever tasted, yet which brought a curious +flood of dim, half-understood memories. It seemed to him that always he +had stood on the hillsides, picking these berries as they grew, and +staining his lips with them. But at once he pushed the thoughts out of +his mind, thinking that his imagination was playing tricks upon him. And +soon after this, Lennox led him out of the house for his first glimpse +of the hills in the darkness. + +They walked together out to the gate, across the first of the wide +pastures where, at certain seasons, Lennox kept his cattle; and at last +they came out upon the tree-covered ridge. The moon was just rising. +They could see it casting a curious glint over the very tips of the +pines. But it couldn't get down between them. They stood too close, too +tall and thick for that. And for a moment, Dan's only sensation was one +of silence. + +"You have to stand still a moment, to really know anything," Lennox told +him. + +They both stood still. Dan was as motionless as that day in the park, +long weeks before, when the squirrel had climbed on his shoulder. The +first effect was a sensation that the silence was deepening around them. +It wasn't really true. It was simply that he had become aware of the +little continuous sounds of which usually he was unconscious, and they +tended to accentuate the hush of the night. He heard his watch ticking +in his pocket, the whispered stir of his own breathing, and he was quite +certain that he could hear the fevered beat of his own heart in his +breast. But then slowly he began to become aware of other sounds, so +faint and indistinct that he really could not be sure that he heard +them. There was a faint rustle and stir, as of the tops of the pine +trees far away. Possibly he heard the wind too, the faintest whisper in +the world through the underbrush. And finally, most wonderful of all, he +began to hear one by one, over the ridge on which he stood, little +whispered sounds of living creatures stirring in the thickets. He knew, +just as all mountaineers know, that the wilderness about him was +stirring and pulsing with life. Some of the sounds were quite clear--an +occasional stir of a pebble or the crack of a twig, and some, like the +faintest twitching of leaves in the brush not ten feet distant, could +only be guessed at. + +"What is making the sounds?" he asked. + +He didn't know it, at the time, but Lennox turned quickly toward him. It +wasn't that the question had surprised the mountaineer. Rather it was +the tone in which Dan had spoken. It was perfectly cool, perfectly +self-contained. + +"The one right close is a chipmunk. I don't know what the others are; no +one ever does know. Perhaps ground squirrels, or rabbits, or birds, and +maybe even one of those harmless old black bears who is curious about +the house. The bears have more curiosity than they can well carry +around, and they say they'll sometimes come up and put their front feet +on a window sill of a house, and peer through the window. They must +think men are the craziest things! And of course it might be a +coyote--and a mad one at that. I guess I told you that they're subject +to rabies at this time of year. I'll confess I'd rather have it be +anything else. And tell me--can you _smell_ anything--" + +"Good Lord, Lennox! I can smell all kinds of things." + +"I'm glad. Some men can't. No one can enjoy the woods if he can't smell. +Part of the smells are of flowers, and part of balsam, and God only +knows what the others are. They are just the wilderness--" + +Dan could not only perceive the smells and sounds, but he felt that they +were leaving an imprint on the very fiber of his soul. He knew one +thing. He knew he could never forget this first introduction to the +mountain night. The whole scene moved him in strange, deep ways in which +he had never been stirred before; it left him exultant and, in deep +wells of his nature far below the usual currents of excitement, a little +excited too. And all the time he had that indefinable sense of +familiarity, a knowledge that this was his own land, and after a long, +long time of wandering in far places, he had come back to it. + +Then both of them were startled out of their reflections by the clear, +unmistakable sound of footsteps on the ridge. Both of them turned, and +Lennox laughed softly in the darkness. "My daughter," he said. "I knew +she wouldn't be afraid to come." + + + + +V + + +Dan could see only Snowbird's outline at first, just her shadow against +the moonlit hillside. His glasses were none too good at long range. And +possibly, when she came within range, the first thing that he noticed +about her was her stride. The girls he knew didn't walk in quite that +free, strong way. She took almost a man-size step; and yet it was +curious that she did not seem ungraceful. Dan had a distinct impression +that she was floating down to him on the moonlight. She seemed to come +with such unutterable smoothness. And then he heard her call lightly +through the darkness. + +The sound gave him a distinct sense of surprise. Some way, he hadn't +associated a voice like this with a mountain girl; he had supposed that +there would be so many harshening influences in this wild place. Yet the +tone was as clear and full as a trained singer's. It was not a high +voice; and yet it seemed simply brimming, as a cup brims with wine, with +the rapture of life. It was a self-confident voice too, wholly +unaffected and sincere, and wholly without embarrassment. + +Then she came close, and Dan saw the moonlight on her face. And so it +came about, whether in dreams or wakefulness, he could see nothing else +for many hours to come. + +Beauty, after all, is wholly a matter of the nearest possible approach +to the physical perfection that many centuries of human faces have +established as a standard. Thus perfection in this case does not mean +some ideal that has been imaged by a poet, but just the nearest approach +to the perfect physical body that nature intended, and which is the +flawless example of the type that composes the race. Thus a typical +feature is the most beautiful, and by this reasoning a composite picture +of all the young girl faces in the Anglo-Saxon nations would be the most +beautiful face that any painter could conceive. It follows that health +is above all the most essential quality to beauty, because disease, from +the nature of things, means thwarted growth that could not possibly +reach the typical of the race. + +The girl who stood in the moonlight had health. She was simply vibrant +with health. It brought a light to her eyes, and a color to her cheeks, +and life and shimmer to her moonlit hair. It brought curves to her +body, and strength and firmness to her limbs, and the grace of a deer to +her carriage. Whether she had regular features or not Dan would have +been unable to state. He didn't even notice. They weren't important when +health was present. Yet there was nothing of the coarse or bold or +voluptuous about her. She was just a slender girl, perhaps twenty years +of age, and weighing even less than the figure occasionally to be read +in the health magazines for girls of her height. And she was fresh and +cool beyond all words to tell. + +And Dan had no delusions about her attitude toward him. For a long +instant she turned her keen, young eyes to his white, thin face; and at +once it became abundantly evident that beyond a few girlish speculations +she felt no interest in him. After a single moment of rather strained, +polite conversation with Dan--just enough to satisfy her idea of the +conventions--she began a thrilling girlhood tale to her father. And she +was still telling it when they reached the house. + +Dan held a chair for her in front of the fireplace, and she took it with +entire naturalness. He was careful to put it where the firelight was at +its height. He wanted to see its effect on the flushed cheeks, the soft +dark hair. And then, standing in the shadows, he simply watched her. +With the eye of an artist he delighted in her gestures, her rippling +enthusiasm, her utter, irrepressible girlishness that all of Time had +not years enough to kill. + +He decided that she had gray eyes. Gray eyes seemed to be characteristic +of the mountain people. Sometimes, when the shadows fell across them, +they looked very dark, as if the pines had been reflected in them all +day and the image had not yet faded out. But in an instant the shadow +flicked away and left only light,--light that danced and light that +laughed and light that went into him and did all manner of things to his +spirit. + +Bill stood watching her, his hands deep in his pockets, evidently a +companion of the best. Her father gazed at her with amused tolerance. +And Dan,--he didn't know in just what way he did look at her. And he +didn't have time to decide. In less than fifteen minutes, and wholly +without warning, she sprang up from her chair and started toward the +door. + +"Good Lord!" Dan breathed. "If you make such sudden motions as that I'll +have heart failure. Where are you going now?" + +"Back to my watch," she answered, her tone wholly lacking the personal +note which men have learned to expect in the voices of women. And an +instant later the three of them saw her retreating shadow as she +vanished among the pines. + +Dan had to be helped to bed. The long ride had been too hard on his +shattered lungs; and nerves and body collapsed an instant after the door +was closed behind the departing girl. He laughed weakly and begged their +pardon; and the two men were really very gentle. They told him it was +their own fault for permitting him to overdo. Lennox himself blew out +the candle in the big, cold bedroom. + +Dan saw the door close behind him, and he had an instant's glimpse of +the long sweep of moonlit ridge that stretched beneath the window. Then, +all at once, seemingly without warning, it simply blinked out. Not until +the next morning did he really know why. Insomnia was an old +acquaintance of Dan's, and he had expected to have some trouble in +getting to sleep. His only real trouble was waking up again when Lennox +called him to breakfast. He couldn't believe that the light at his +window shade was really that of morning. + +"Good Heavens!" his host exploded. "You sleep the sleep of the just." + +Dan was about to tell him that on the contrary he was a very nervous +sleeper, but he thought better of it. Something had surely happened to +his insomnia. The next instant he even forgot to wonder about it in the +realization that his tired body had been wonderfully refreshed. He had +no dread now of the long tramp up the ridge that his host had planned. + +But first came target practice. In Dan's baggage he had a certain very +plain but serviceable sporting rifle of about thirty-forty caliber,--a +gun that the information department of the large sporting-goods store in +Gitcheapolis had recommended for his purpose. Except for the few moments +in the store, Dan had never held a rifle in his hands. + +Of course the actual aiming of a rifle is an extremely simple +proposition. A man with fair use of his hands and eyes can pick it up in +less time than it takes to tell it. The fine art of marksmanship +consists partly in the finer sighting,--the instinctive realization of +just what fraction of the front sight should be visible through the +rear. But most of all it depends on the control that the nerves have +over the muscles. Some men are born rifle shots; and on others it is +quite impossible to thrust any skill whatever. + +The nerve impulses and the muscular reflexes must be exquisitely tuned, +so that the finger presses back on the trigger the identical instant +that the mark is seen on the line of the sights. One quarter of a +second's delay will usually disturb the aim. There must be no muscular +jerk as the trigger is pressed. Shooting was never a sport for blasted +nerves. And usually such attributes as the ability to judge distances, +the speed and direction of a fleeing object, and the velocity of the +wind can only be learned by tireless practice. + +When Dan first took the rifle in his hands, Lennox was rather amazed at +the ease and naturalness with which he held it. It seemed to come up +naturally to his shoulder. Lennox scarcely had to tell him how to rest +the butt and to drop his chin as he aimed. He began to look rather +puzzled. Dan seemed to know all these things by instinct. The first +shot, Dan hit the trunk of a five-foot pine at thirty paces. + +"But I couldn't very well have missed it!" he replied to Lennox's cheer. +"You see, I aimed at the middle--but I just grazed the edge." + +The second shot was not so good, missing the tree altogether. And it was +a singular thing that he aimed longer and tried harder on this shot than +on the first. The third time he tried still harder, and made by far the +worst shot of all. + +"What's the matter?" he demanded. "I'm getting worse all the time." + +Lennox didn't know for sure. But he made a long guess. "It might be +beginner's luck," he said, "but I'm inclined to think you're trying too +hard. Take it easier--depend more on your instincts. Some marksmen are +born good shots and cook themselves trying to follow rules. It might be, +by the longest chance, that you're one of them--at least it won't hurt +to try." + +Dan's reply was to lift the rifle lightly to his shoulder, glance +quickly along the trigger, and fire. The bullet struck within one inch +of the center of the pine. + +For a long second Lennox gazed at him in open-mouthed astonishment. "My +stars, boy!" he cried at last. "Was I mistaken in thinking you were a +born tenderfoot--after all? Can it be that a little of your old +grandfather's skill has been passed down to you? But you can't do it +again." + +But Dan did do it again. If anything, the bullet was a little nearer the +center. And then he aimed at a more distant tree. + +But the hammer snapped down ineffectively on the breech. He turned with +a look of question. + +"Your gun only holds five shots," Lennox explained. Reloading, Dan tried +a more difficult target--a trunk almost one hundred yards distant. Of +course it would have been only child's play to an experienced hunter; +but to a tenderfoot it was the difficult mark indeed. Twice out of four +shots Dan hit the tree trunk, and one of his two hits was practically a +bull's-eye. His two misses were the result of the same mistake he had +made before,--attempting to hold his aim too long. + +The shots rang far through the quiet woods, long-drawn from the echoes +that came rocking back from the hills. In contrast with the deep silence +that is really an eternal part of the mountains, the sound seemed +preternaturally loud. All over the great sweep of canyon, the wild +creatures heard and were startled. One could easily imagine the +Columbian deer, gone to their buckbrush to sleep, springing up and +lifting pointed ears. There is no more graceful action in the whole +animal world than this first, startled spring of a frightened buck. Then +old Woof, feeding in the berry bushes, heard the sound too. Woof has +considerably more understanding than most of the wild inhabitants of the +forest, and maybe that is why he left his banquet and started falling +all over his awkward self in descending the hill. It might be that +Lennox would want to procure his guest a sample of bear steak; and Woof +didn't care to be around to suggest such a thing. At least, that would +be his train of thought according to those naturalists who insist on +ascribing human intelligence to all the forest creatures. But it is true +that Woof had learned to recognize a rifle shot, and he feared it worse +than anything on earth. + +Far away on the ridge top, a pair of wolves sat together with no more +evidence of life than two shadows. One of the most effective +accomplishments a wolf possesses is its ability to freeze into a +motionless thing, so the sharpest eye can scarcely detect him in the +thickets. It is an advantage in hunting, and it is an even greater +advantage when being hunted. Yet at the same second they sprang up, +simply seemed to spin in the dead pine needles, and brought up with +sharp noses pointed and ears erect, facing the valley. + +A human being likely would have wondered at their action. It is doubtful +that human ears could have detected that faint tremor in the air which +was all that was left of the rifle report. But of course this is a +question that would be extremely difficult to prove; for as a rule the +senses of the larger forest creatures, with the great exception of +scent, are not as perfectly developed as those of a human being. A wolf +can see better than a man in the darkness, but not nearly as far in the +daylight. But the wolves knew this sound. Too many times they had seen +their pack-fellows die in the snow when such a report as this, only +intensified a thousand times, cracked at them through the winter air. No +animal in all the forest has been as relentlessly hunted as the wolves, +and they have learned their lessons. For longer years than most men +would care to attempt to count, men have waged a ceaseless war upon +them. And they have learned that their safety lies in flight. + +Very quietly, and quite without panic, the wolves turned and headed +farther into the forests. Possibly no other animal would have been +frightened at such a distance. And it is certainly true that in the +deep, winter snows not even the wolves would have heeded the sound. The +snows bring Famine; and when Famine comes to keep its sentry-duty over +the land, all the other forest laws are immediately forgotten or +ignored. The pack forgets all its knowledge of the deadliness of men in +the starving times. + +The grouse heard the sound, and, silly creatures that they are, even +they raised their heads for a single instant from their food. The +felines--the great, tawny mountain lions and their smaller cousins, the +lynx--all devoted at least an instant of concentrated attention to it. +A raccoon, sleeping in a pine, opened its eyes, and a lone bull elk, +such as some people think is beyond all other things the monarch of the +forest, rubbed his neck against a tree trunk and wondered. + +But yet there remained two of the larger forest creatures that did not +heed at all. One was Urson, the porcupine, whose stupidity is beyond all +measuring. He was too slow and patient and dull to give attention to a +rifle bullet. And the other was Graycoat the coyote, gray and strange +and foam-lipped, on the hillside. Graycoat could hear nothing but +strange whinings and voices that rang ever in his ears. All other sounds +were obscured. The reason was extremely simple. In the dog days a +certain malady sometimes comes to the wild creatures, and it is dreaded +worse than drought or cold or any of the manifold terrors of their +lives. No one knows what name they have for this sickness. Human beings +call it hydrophobia. And the coyotes are particularly susceptible to it. + +Ordinarily the name of coyote is, among the beasts, a synonym for +cowardice as well as a certain kind of detested cunning. All the +cowardice of a mountain lion and a wolf and a lynx put together doesn't +equal the amount that Graycoat carried in the end of his tail. That +doesn't mean timidity. Timidity is a trait of the deer, a gift of nature +for self-preservation, and no one holds it against them. In fact, it +makes them rather appealing. Cowardice is a lack of moral courage to +remain and fight when nature has afforded the necessary weapons to fight +with. It is sort of a betrayal of nature,--a misuse of powers. No one +calls a rabbit a coward because it runs away. A warlike rabbit is +something that no man has ever seen since the beginning of the world, +and probably never will. Nature hasn't given the little animal any +weapons. + +But this is not true of the wolf or cougar. A wolf has ninety pounds of +lightning-quick muscles, and teeth that are nothing but a set of very +well-sharpened and perfectly arranged daggers. A cougar not only has +fangs, but talons that can rend flesh more terribly than the cogs of a +machine, and strength to make the air hum under his paw as he strikes it +down. And so it is an extremely disappointing thing to see either of +these animals flee in terror from an Airedale not half their size,--a +sight that most mountain men see rather often. The fact that they act +with greater courage in the famine times, and that either of them will +fight to the very death when brought to bay, are not extenuating +circumstances to their cowardice. A mouse will bite the hand that picks +it up if it has no other choice. + +A coyote is, at least in a measure, equipped for fighting. He is smaller +than a wolf, and his fangs are almost as terrible. Yet a herd of +determined sheep, turning to face him, puts him in a panic. The smallest +dog simply petrifies him with terror. And a rifle report,--he has been +known to put a large part of a county between himself and the source of +the sound in the shortest possible time. If a mountain man feels like +fighting, he simply calls another a coyote. It is more effective than +impugning the virtue of his female ancestors. To be called a coyote +means to be termed the lowest, most despised creature of which the +imagination can conceive. + +And besides being a perfect, unprincipled coward, he is utterly without +pride. And that is saying a great deal. Most large animals have more +pride than they have intelligence, particularly the bear and the moose. +A mature bear, dying before his foes, will often refrain from howling +even in the greatest agony. He is simply too proud. A moose greatly +dislikes to appear to run away in the presence of enemies. He will walk +with the dignity of a bishop until he thinks the brush has obscured him; +and then he will simply fly! And there was a dog once, long ago, which, +meeting on the highways a dog that was much larger and that could not +possibly be mastered, would simply turn away his eyes and pretend not to +see him. + +A coyote is wholly without this virtue, as well as most of the other +virtues of the animal world. He not only eats carrion--because if one +started to condemn all the carrion-eating animals of the forest he would +soon have precious few of them left--but he also eats old shoes off +rubbish piles. Unlike the wolf, he does not even find his courage in the +famine times. He has cunning, but cunning is not greatly beloved in men +or beasts. Most folk prefer a kindly, blundering awkwardness, a +simplicity of heart and spirit, such as are to be found in Woof the +bear. + +But Graycoat has one tendency that makes all the other forest creatures +regard him with consternation: he is extremely liable to madness. Along +in dog days he is seen suddenly to begin to rush through the thickets, +barking and howling and snapping at invisible enemies, with foam +dropping from his terrible lips. His eyes grow yellow and strange. And +this is the time that even the bull elk turns off his trail. No one +cares to meet Graycoat when the hydrophobia is upon him. At such time +all his cunning and his terror are quite forgotten in his agony, and he +is likely to make an unprovoked charge on Woof himself. + +Now Graycoat came walking stiff-legged down through the thickets. And +the forest creatures, from the smallest to the great, forgot the far-off +peal of the rifle bullets to get out of his way. + + + + +VI + + +Dan and Lennox started together up the long slope of the ridge. Dan +alone was armed; Lennox went with him solely as a guide. The deer season +had just opened, and it might be that Dan would want to procure one of +these creatures. + +"But I'm not sure I want to hunt deer," Dan told him. "You speak of them +as being so beautiful--" + +"They are beautiful, and your grandfather would never hunt them either, +except for meat. But maybe you'll change your mind when you see a buck. +Besides, we might run into a lynx or a panther. But not very likely, +without dogs." + +They trudged up, over the carpet of pine needles. They fought their way +through a thicket of buckbrush. Once they saw the gray squirrels in the +tree tops. And before Lennox had as much as supposed they were near the +haunts of big game, a yearling doe sprang up from its bed in the +thickets. + +For an instant she stood motionless, presenting a perfect target. It was +evident that she had heard the sound of the approaching hunters, but had +not as yet located or identified them with her near-sighted eyes. Lennox +whirled to find Dan standing very still, peering along the barrel of his +rifle. But he didn't shoot. A light danced in his eyes, and his fingers +crooked nervously about the trigger, but yet there was no pressure. The +deer, seeing Lennox move, leaped into her terror-pace,--that astounding +run that is one of the fastest gaits in the whole animal world. In the +wink of an eye, she was out of sight. + +"Why didn't you shoot?" Lennox demanded. + +"Shoot? It was a doe, wasn't it?" + +"Good Lord, of course it was a doe! But there are no game laws that go +back this far. Besides--you aimed at it." + +"I aimed just to see if I could catch it through my sights. And I could. +My glasses sort of made it blur--but I think--perhaps--that I could have +shot it. But I'm not going to kill does. There must be some reason for +the game laws, or they wouldn't exist." + +"You're a funny one. Come three thousand miles to hunt and then pass up +the first deer you see. You could almost have been your grandfather, to +have done that. He thought killing a deer needlessly was almost as bad +as killing a man. They are beautiful things, aren't they?" + +Dan answered him with startling emphasis. But the look that he wore said +more than his words. + +They trudged on, and Lennox grew thoughtful. He was recalling the +picture that he had seen when he had whirled to look at Dan, immediately +after the deer had leaped from its bed. It puzzled him a little. He had +turned to find the younger man in a perfect posture to shoot, his feet +placed in exactly the position that years of experience had taught +Lennox was correct; and withal, absolutely motionless. Of all the many +things to learn in the wilderness, to stand perfectly still in the +presence of game is one of the hardest. The natural impulse is to +start,--a nervous reflex that usually terrifies the game. The principle +of standing still is, of course, that it takes a certain length of time +for the deer to look about after it makes its first leap from its bed, +and if the hunter is motionless, the deer is usually unable to identify +him as a thing to fear. It gives a better chance for a shot. What many +hunters take years to learn, Dan had seemed to know by instinct. Could +it be, after all, that this slender weakling, even now bowed down with +a terrible malady, had inherited the true frontiersman's instincts of +his ancestors? + +Then all at once Lennox halted in his tracks, evidently with no other +purpose than to study the tall form that now was walking up the trail in +front of him. And he uttered a little exclamation of amazement. + +"Listen, Dan!" he cried suddenly. "Haven't you ever been in the woods +before?" + +Dan turned, smiling. "No. What have I done now?" + +"What have you done! You're doing something that I never saw a +tenderfoot do in my life, before. I've known men to hunt for +years--literally years--and not know how to do it. And that is--to place +your feet." + +"Place my feet? I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"I mean--to walk silently. To stalk, damn it, Dan! This brush is dry. +It's dry as tinder. A cougar can get over it like so much smoke, and a +man who's lived all his life in the hills can usually climb a ridge and +not make any more noise than a young avalanche. Just now I had a feeling +that I wasn't hearing you walk, and I thought my ears must be going back +on me. I stopped to see. You were doing it, Dan. You were +stalking--putting down your feet like a cat. It's the hardest thing to +learn there is, and you're doing it the first half-hour." + +Dan laughed, delighted more than he cared to show. "Well, what of it?" +he asked. + +"What of it? That's it--what of it. And what caused it, and all about +it. Go on and let me think." + +The result of all this thought was at least to hover in the near +vicinity of a certain conclusion. That conclusion was that at least a +few of the characteristics of his grandfather had been passed down to +Dan. It meant that possibly, if time remained, he would not turn out +such a weakling, after all. Of course his courage, his nerve, had yet to +be tested; but the fact remained that long generations of frontiersmen +ancestors had left this influence upon him. The wild was calling to him, +wakening instincts long smothered in cities, but sure and true as ever. +It was the beginning of regeneration. Voices of the long past were +speaking to him, and the Failings once more had begun to run true to +form. Inherited tendencies were in a moment changing this weak, diseased +youth into a frontiersman and wilderness inhabitant such as his +ancestors had been before him. + +But before ever Lennox had a chance to think all around the subject, to +actually convince himself that Dan really was a throwback and recurrence +of type, there ensued on that gaunt ridge a curious adventure. The test +of nerve and courage was nearer than either of them had guessed. + +They were slipping along over the pine needles, their eyes intent on the +trail ahead. And then Lennox saw a curious thing. He beheld Dan suddenly +stop in the trail and turn his eyes towards a heavy thicket that lay +perhaps one hundred yards to their right. For an instant he looked +almost like a wild creature himself. His head was lowered, as if he were +listening. His muscles were set and ready. + +Lennox had prided himself that he had retained all the powers of his +five senses, and that few men in the mountains had keener ears than he. +Yet it was truth that at first he only knew the silence, and the stir +and pulse of his own blood. He assumed then that Dan was watching +something that from his position, twenty feet behind, he could not see. +He tried to probe the thickets with his eyes. + +Then Dan whispered. Ever so soft a sound, but yet distinct in the +silence. "There's something living in that thicket." + +Then Lennox heard it too. As they stood still, the sound became ever +clearer and more pronounced. Some living creature was advancing toward +them; and twigs were cracking beneath its feet. The sounds were rather +subdued, and yet, as the animal approached, both of them instinctively +knew that they were extremely loud for the usual footsteps of any of the +wild creatures. + +"What is it?" Dan asked quietly. + +Lennox was so intrigued by the sounds that he was not even observant of +the peculiar, subdued quality in Dan's voice. Otherwise, he would have +wondered at it. "I'm free to confess I don't know," he said. "It's +booming right towards us, like most animals don't care to do. Of course +it may be a human being. You must watch out for that." + +They waited. The sound ended. They stood straining for a long moment +without speech. + +"That was the dumdest thing!" Lennox went on. "Of course it might have +been a bear--you never know what they're going to do. It might have got +sight of us and turned off. But I can't believe that it was just a +deer--" + +But then his words chopped squarely off in his throat. The plodding +advance commenced again. And the next instant a gray form revealed +itself at the edge of the thicket. + +It was Graycoat, half-blind with his madness, and desperate in his +agony. + +There was no more deadly thing in all the hills than he. Even the bite +of a rattlesnake would have been welcomed beside his. He stood a long +instant, and all his instincts and reflexes that would have ordinarily +made him flee in abject terror were thwarted and twisted by the fever of +his madness. He stared a moment at the two figures, and his red eyes +could not interpret them. They were simply foes, for it was true that +when this racking agony was upon him, even lifeless trees seemed foes +sometimes. He seemed eerie and unreal as he gazed at them out of his +burning eyes; and the white foam gathered at his fangs. And then, wholly +without warning, he charged down at them. + +He came with unbelievable speed. The elder Lennox cried once in warning +and cursed himself for venturing forth on the ridge without a gun. He +was fully twenty feet distant from Dan; yet he saw in an instant his +only course. This was no time to trust their lives to the marksmanship +of an amateur. He sprang towards Dan, intending to wrench the weapon +from his hand. + +But he didn't achieve his purpose. At the first step his foot caught in +a projecting root, and he was shot to his face on the trail. But a long +life in the wilderness had developed Lennox's reflexes to an abnormal +degree; many crises had taught him muscle and nerve control; and only +for a fraction of an instant, a period of time that few instruments are +fine enough to measure, did he lie supinely upon the ground. He rolled +on, into a position of defense. But he knew now he could not reach the +younger man before the mad coyote would be upon them. The matter was out +of his hands. Everything depended on the aim and self-control of the +tenderfoot. + +And at the same instant he wondered, so intensely that all other mental +processes were subjugated to it, why he had not heard Dan shoot. + +He looked up, and the whole weird picture was thrown upon the retina of +his eyes. The coyote was still racing straight toward Dan, a gray demon +that in his madness was more terrible than any charging bear or elk. For +there is an element of horror about the insane, whether beasts or men, +that cannot be denied. Both men felt it, with a chill that seemed to +penetrate clear to their hearts. The eyes flamed, the white fangs of +Graycoat caught the sunlight. And Dan stood erect in his path, his rifle +half raised to his shoulder; and even in that first frenzied instant in +which Lennox looked at him, he saw there was a strange impassiveness, a +singular imperturbability on his face. + +"Shoot, man!" Lennox shouted. "What are you waiting for?" + +But Dan didn't shoot. His hand whipped to his face, and he snatched off +his thick-lensed glasses. The eyes that were revealed were narrow and +deeply intent. And by now, the frenzied coyote was not fifty feet +distant. + +All that had occurred since the animal charged had possibly taken five +seconds. Sometimes five seconds is just a breath; but as Lennox waited +for Dan to shoot, it seemed like a period wholly without limit. He +wondered if the younger man had fallen into that strange paralysis that +a great terror sometimes imbues. "Shoot!" he screamed again. + +But it is doubtful if Dan even heard his shout. At that instant his gun +slid into place, his head lowered, his eyes seemed to burn along the +glittering barrel. His finger pressed back against the trigger, and the +roar of the report rocked through the summer air. + +The gun was of large caliber; and no living creature could stand against +the furious, shocking power of the great bullet. The lead went straight +home, full through the neck and slanting down through the breast, and +the coyote recoiled as if an irresistible hand had smitten him. It is +doubtful if there was even a muscular quiver after Graycoat struck the +ground, not twenty feet from where Dan stood. And the rifle report +echoed back to find only silence. + +Lennox got up off the ground and moved over toward the dead coyote. He +looked a long time at the gray body. And then he stepped back to where +Dan waited on the trail. + +"I take it all back," he said simply. + +"You take what back?" + +"What I thought about you--that the Failing line had gone to the dogs. +I'll never call you a tenderfoot again." + +"You are very kind," Dan answered. He looked rather tired, but was +wholly unshaken. For an instant Lennox looked at his eyes and his steady +hands. + +"But tell me one thing," Lennox asked. "I saw the way you looked down +the barrel. I could see how firm you held the rifle--the way you kept +your head. And that is all like your grandfather. But why, when you had +a repeating rifle, did you wait so long to shoot?" + +"I just had one cartridge in my gun. I fired nine times back at the +trees and only re-loaded once. I didn't think of it until the coyote +charged." + +Lennox's answer was the last thing in the world to be expected. He +opened his straight mouth and uttered a great, boyish yell of joy. His +eyes seemed to light. It is a phenomenon that is ever so much oftener +imagined than really seen; but the sudden, elated sparkle that came in +those gray orbs was past denial. The eyes of the two men met, and Lennox +shook him by the shoulder. + +"You're not Dan Failing's grandson--you're Dan Failing himself!" he +shouted. "No one but him would have had the self-control to wait till +the game was almost on top of him--no one but him would have kept his +head in a time like this. You're Dan Failing himself, I tell you, come +back to earth. Grandson nothing! You're a throwback, and now you've got +those glasses off, I can see his eyes looking right out of yours. Step +on 'em, Dan. You'll never need 'em again. And give up that idea of dying +in four months right now; I'm going to make you live. We'll fight that +disease to a finish--and win!" + +And that is the way that Dan Failing came into his heritage in the land +of his own people, and in which a new spirit was born in him to +fight--and win--and live. + + + + +BOOK TWO + +THE DEBT + + + + +I + + +September was at its last days on the Umpqua Divide,--that far +wilderness of endless, tree-clad ridges where Dan Failing had gone for +his last days. September, in this place, was a season all by itself. It +wasn't exactly summer, because already a little silver sheath of ice +formed on the lakes in the morning; and the days were clamping down in +length so fast that Whisperfoot the cougar had time for a dozen killings +in a single night. Fall only begins when the rains start; and there +hadn't been a trickle of rain since April. It was rather a cross between +the two seasons,--the rag-tail of summer and the prelude of fall. + +It was true that the leaves were shedding from the underbrush. They came +yellow and they came red, and the north wind, always the first breath of +winter, blew them in all directions. They made a perfect background for +the tawny tints of Whisperfoot, and quite often the near-sighted deer +would walk right up to him without detecting him. But the cougar always +saw to it they didn't do it a second time. It had been a particularly +bad season for Whisperfoot, and he was glad that his luck had changed. +The woods were so dry from the long drought that even he--and as all men +know, he is one of the most silent creatures in the wilderness when he +wants to be, which are the times that he doesn't want to make as much +noise as a steam engine--found it hard to crawl down a deer trail +without being heard. The twigs would sometimes crack beneath his feet, +and this is a disgrace with any cougar. Their first lessons are to learn +to walk with silence. + +Woof the bear loved this month above all others. It wasn't that he +needed protective coloring. He was not a hunter at all, except of grubs +and berries and such small fry. He had a black coat and a clumsy stride; +and he couldn't have caught a deer if his life had depended upon it. But +he did like to shuffle through the fallen leaves and make beds of them +in the warm afternoons; and besides, the berries were always biggest and +ripest in September. The bee trees were almost full of honey. Even the +fat beetles under the stumps were many and lazy. + +Everywhere the forest people were preparing for the winter that would +fall so quickly when these golden September days were done. The Under +Plane of the forest--those smaller peoples that live in the dust and +have beautiful, tropical forests in the ferns--found themselves digging +holes and filling them with stores of food. Of course they had no idea +on earth why they were doing it, except that a quiver at the end of +their tails told them to do so; but the result was entirely the same. +They would have a shelter for the winter. Certain of the birds were +beginning to wonder what the land was like to the south, and now and +then waking up in the crisp dawns with decided longings for travel. The +young mallards on the lakes were particularly restless, and occasionally +a long flock of them would rise in the morning from the blue waters with +a glint of wings,--and quite fail to come back. And one night all the +forest listened to the wail of the first flock of south-going geese. But +the main army of waterfowl would of course not pass until fall came in +reality. + +But the most noticeable change of all, in these last days of summer, was +a distinct tone of sadness that sounded throughout the forest. Of course +the wilderness note is always somewhat sad; but now, as the leaves fell +and the grasses died, it seemed particularly pronounced. All the forest +voices added to it,--the wail of the geese, the sad fluttering of +fallen leaves, and even the whisper of the north wind. The pines seemed +darker, and now and then gray clouds gathered, promised rain, but passed +without dropping their burdens on the parched hillsides. Of course all +the tones and voices of the wilderness sound clearest at night--for that +is the time that the forest really comes to life--and Dan Failing, +sitting in front of Lennox's house, watching the late September moon +rise over Bald Mountain, could hear them very plainly. + +It was true that in the two months he had spent in the mountains he had +learned to be very receptive to the voices of the wilderness. Lennox had +not been mistaken in thinking him a natural woodsman. He had imagination +and insight and sympathy; but most of all he had a heritage of wood lore +from his frontiersmen ancestors. Two months before he had been a +resident of cities. Now the wilderness had claimed him, body and soul. + +These had been rare days. At first he had to limit his expeditions to a +few miles each day, and even then he would come in at night staggering +from weariness. He climbed hills that seemed to tear his diseased lungs +to shreds. Lennox wouldn't have been afraid, in a crisis, to trust his +marksmanship now. He had the natural cold nerve of a marksman, and one +twilight he brought the body of a lynx tumbling through the branches of +a pine at a distance of two hundred yards. A shotgun is never a +mountaineer's weapon--except a sawed-off specimen for family +contingencies--yet Dan acquired a certain measure of skill at small game +hunting, too. He got so he could shatter a grouse out of the air in the +half of a second or so in which its bronze wings glinted in the +shrubbery; and when a man may do this a fair number of times out of ten, +he is on the straight road toward greatness. + +Then there came a day when Dan caught his first steelhead in the North +Fork. There was no finer sport in the whole West than this,--the play of +the fly, the strike, the electric jar that carries along the line and +through the arm and into the soul from where it is never quite effaced, +and finally the furious strife and exultant throb when the fish is +hooked. There is no more beautiful thing in the wilderness world than a +steelhead trout in action. He simply seems to dance on the surface of +the water, leaping again and again, and racing at an unheard-of speed +down the ripples. He weighs only from three to fifteen pounds. But now +and again amateur fishermen without souls have tried to pull him in with +main strength, and are still somewhat dazed by the result. It might be +done with a steel cable, but an ordinary line or leader breaks like a +cobweb. When his majesty the steelhead takes the fly and decides to run, +it can be learned after a time that the one thing that may be done is to +let out all the line and with prayer and humbleness try to keep up with +him. + +Dan fished for lake trout in the lakes of the plateau; he shot waterfowl +in the tule marshes; he hunted all manner of living things with his +camera. But most of all he simply studied, as his frontiersmen ancestors +had done before him. He found unceasing delight in the sagacity of the +bear, the grace of the felines, the beauty of the deer. He knew the +chipmunks and the gray squirrels and the snowshoe rabbits. And every day +his muscles had hardened and his gaunt frame had filled out. + +He no longer wore his glasses. Every day his eyes had strengthened. He +could see more clearly now, with his unaided eyes, than he had ever seen +before with the help of the lens. And the moonlight came down through a +rift in the trees and showed that his face had changed too. It was no +longer so white. The eyes were more intent. The lips were straighter. + +"It's been two months," Silas Lennox told him, "half the four that you +gave yourself after you arrived here. And you're twice as good now as +when you came." + +Dan nodded. "Twice! Ten times as good! I was a wreck when I came. To-day +I climbed halfway up Baldy--within a half mile of Snowbird's +cabin--without stopping to rest." + +Lennox looked thoughtful. More than once, of late, Dan had climbed up +toward Snowbird's cabin. It was true that his guest and his daughter had +become the best of companions in the two months; but on second thought, +Lennox was not in the least afraid of complications. The love of the +mountain women does not go out to physical inferiors. "Whoever gets +her," he had said, "will have to tame her," and his words still held +good. The mountain women rarely mistook a maternal tenderness for an +appealing man for love. It wasn't that Dan was weak except from the +ravages of his disease; but he was still a long way from Snowbird's +ideal. + +And the explanation was simply that life in the mountains gets down to a +primitive basis, and its laws are the laws of the cave. Emotions are +simple and direct, dangers are real, and the family relations have +remained unchanged since the first days of the race. Men do not woo one +another's wives in the mountains. There is no softness, no compromise: +the male of the species provides, and the female keeps the hut. It is +good, the mountain women know, when the snows come, to have a strong arm +to lean upon. The man of strong muscles, of quick aim, of cool nerve in +a crisis is the man that can be safely counted on not to leave a +youthful widow to a lone battle for existence. Although Dan had courage +and that same rigid self-control that was an old quality in his breed, +he was still a long way from a physically strong man. It was still an +even break whether he would ever wholly recover from his malady. + +But Dan was not thinking about this now. All his perceptions had +sharpened down to the finest focal point, and he was trying to catch the +spirit of the endless forest that stretched in front of the house. The +moon was above the pines at last, and its light was a magic. He sat +breathless, his eyes intent on the silvery patches between the trees. +Now and then he saw a shadow waver. + +His pipe had gone out, and for a long time Lennox hadn't spoken. He +seemed to be straining too, with ineffective senses, trying to recognize +and name the faint sounds that came so tingling and tremulous out of the +darkness. As always, they heard the stir and rustle of the gnawing +people: the chipmunks in the shrubbery, the gophers who, like blind +misers, had ventured forth from their dark burrows; and perhaps even the +scaly glide of those most-dreaded poison people that had lairs in the +rock piles. + +Then, more distinct still, they heard the far-off yowl of a cougar. Yet +it wasn't quite like the cougar utterances that Dan had heard on +previous nights. It was not so high, so piercing and triumphant; but had +rather an angry, snarling tone made up of _ows_ and broad, nasal _yahs_. +It came tingling up through hundreds of yards of still forest; and both +of them leaned forward. + +"Another deer killed," Dan suggested softly. + +"No. Not this time. He missed, and he's mad about it. They often snarl +that way when they miss their stroke, just like an angry cat. But +listen--" + +Again they heard a sound, and from some far-lying ridge, they heard a +curious echo. So far it had come that only a tremor of it remained; yet +every accent and intonation was perfect, and Dan was dimly reminded of +some work of art cunningly wrought in miniature. In one quality alone it +resembled the cougar's cry. It was unquestionably a wilderness +voice,--no sound made by men or the instruments of men; and like the +cougar's cry, it was simply imbued with the barbaric spirit of the wild. +But while the cougar had simply yowled in disappointment, a sound wholly +without rhythm or harmony, this sound was after the manner of a song, +rising and falling unutterably wild and strange. + + + + +II + + +Dan felt that at last the wilderness itself was speaking to him. He had +waited a long time to hear its voice. His thought went back to the wise +men of the ancient world, waiting to hear the riddle of the universe +from the lips of the Sphinx, and how he himself--more in his unconscious +self, rather than conscious--had sought the eternal riddle of the +wilderness. It had seemed to him that if once he could make it speak, if +he could make it break for one instant its great, brooding silence, that +the whole mystery and meaning of life would be in a measure revealed. He +had asked questions--never in the form of words but only ineffable +yearnings of his soul--and at last it had responded. The strange rising +and falling song was its own voice, the articulation of the very heart +and soul of the wilderness. + +And because it was, it was also the song of life itself,--life in the +raw, life as it is when all the superficialities that blunt the vision +had been struck away. Dan had known that it would be thus. It brought +strange pictures to his mind. He saw the winter snows, the spirits of +Cold and Famine walking over them. He saw Fear in many guises--in the +forest fire, in the landslide, in the lightning cleaving the sky. In the +song were centered and made clear all the many lesser voices with which +the forest had spoken to him these two months and which he had but dimly +understood,--the passion, the exultation, the blood-lust, the strength, +the cruelty, the remorseless, unceasing struggle for existence that +makes the wilderness an eternal battle ground. But over it all was +sadness. He couldn't doubt that. He heard it all too plainly. The wild +was revealed to him as it never had been before. + +"It's the wolf pack," Lennox told him softly. "As long as I have been in +the mountains, it always hits me the same. The wolves have just joined +together for the fall rutting. There's not another song like it in the +whole world." + +Dan could readily believe it. The two men sat still a long time, hoping +that they might hear the song again. And then they got up and moved +across the cleared field to the ridge beyond. The silence closed deeper +around them. + +"Then it means the end of the summer?" Dan asked. + +"In a way, but yet we don't count the summer ended until the rains +break. Heavens, I wish they would start! I've never seen the hills so +dry, and I'm afraid that either Bert Cranston or some of his friends +will decide it's time to make a little money fighting forest fires. Dan, +I'm suspicious of that gang. I believe they've got a regular arson ring, +maybe with unscrupulous stockmen behind them, and perhaps just a +penny-winning deal of their own. I suppose you know about Landy +Hildreth,--how he's promised to turn State's evidence that will send +about a dozen of these vipers to the penitentiary?" + +"Snowbird told me something about it." + +"He's got a cabin over toward the marshes, and it has come to me that +he's going to start to-morrow, or maybe has already started to-day, down +into the valley to give his evidence. Of course, that is deeply +confidential between you and me. If the gang knew about it, he'd never +get through the thickets alive." + +But Dan was hardly listening. His attention was caught by the hushed, +intermittent sounds that are always to be heard, if one listens keenly +enough, in the wilderness at night. "I wish the pack would sound again," +he said. "I suppose it was hunting." + +"Of course. And there is no living thing in these woods that can stand +against a wolf pack in its full strength." + +"Except man, of course." + +"A strong man, with an accurate rifle, of course, and except possibly in +the starving times in winter he'd never have to fight them. All the +beasts of prey are out to-night. You see, Dan, when the moon shines, the +deer feed at night instead of in the twilights and the dawn. And of +course the wolves and the cougars hunt the deer. It may be that they are +running cattle, or even sheep." + +But Dan's imagination was afire. He wasn't content yet. "They couldn't +be--hunting man?" he asked. + +"No. If it was midwinter and the pack was starving, we'd have to listen +better. It always looked to me as if the wild creatures had a law +against killing men, just as humans have. They've learned it doesn't +pay--something the wolves and bear of Europe and Asia haven't found out. +The naturalists say that the reason is rather simple--that the European +peasant, his soul scared out of him by the government he lived under, +has always fled from wild beasts. They were tillers of the soil, and +they carried hoes instead of guns. They never put the fear of God into +the animals and as a result there are quite a number of true stories +about tigers and wolves that aren't pleasant to listen to. But our own +frontiersmen were not men to stand any nonsense from wolves or cougars. +They had guns, and they knew how to use them. And they were preceded by +as brave and as warlike a race as ever lived on the earth--armed with +bows and arrows. Any animal that hunted men was immediately killed, and +the rest found out it didn't pay." + +"Just as human beings have found out the same thing--that it doesn't pay +to hunt their fellow men. The laws of life as well as the laws of +nations are against it." + +But the words sounded weak and dim under the weight of the throbbing +darkness; and Dan couldn't get away from the idea that the codes of life +by which most men lived were forgotten quickly in the shadows of the +pines. Even as he spoke, man was hunting man on the distant ridge where +Whisperfoot had howled. + + * * * * * + +Bert Cranston, head of the arson ring that operated on the Umpqua +Divide, was not only beyond the pale in regard to the laws of the +valleys, but he could have learned valuable lessons from the beasts in +regard to keeping the laws of the hills. The forest creatures do not +hunt their own species, nor do they normally hunt men. The moon looked +down to find Bert Cranston waiting on a certain trail that wound down to +the settlements, his rifle loaded and ready for another kind of game +than deer or wolf. He was waiting for Landy Hildreth; and the greeting +he had for him was to destroy all chances of the prosecuting attorney in +the valley below learning certain names that he particularly wanted to +know. + +There is always a quality of unreality about a moonlit scene. Just what +causes it isn't easy to explain, unless the soft blend of light and +shadow entirely destroys the perspective. Old ruins will sometimes seem +like great, misty ghosts of long-dead cities; trees will turn to silver; +phantoms will gather in family groups under the cliffs; plain hills and +valleys will become, in an instant, the misty vales of Fairyland. The +scene on that distant ridge of the Divide partook of this quality to an +astounding degree; and it would have made a picture no mortal memory +could have possibly forgotten. + +There was no breath of wind. The great pines, tall and dark past belief, +stood absolutely motionless, like strange pillars of ebony. The whole +ridge was splotched with patches of moonlight, and the trail, dimming as +the eyes followed it, wound away into the utter darkness. Bert Cranston +knelt in a brush covert, his rifle loaded and ready in his lean, dark +hands. + +No wolf that ran the ridges, no cougar that waited on the deer trails +knew a wilder passion, a more terrible blood-lust than he. It showed in +his eyes, narrow and never resting from their watch of the trail; it was +in his posture; and it revealed itself unmistakably in the curl of his +lips. Something like hot steam was in his brain, blurring his sight and +heating his blood. + +The pine needles hung wholly motionless above his head; but yet the dead +leaves on which he knelt crinkled and rustled under him. Only the +keenest ear could have heard the sound; and possibly in his madness, +Cranston himself was not aware of it. And one would have wondered a long +time as to what caused it. It was simply that he was shivering all over +with hate and fury. + +A twig cracked, far on the ridge above him. He leaned forward, peering, +and the moonlight showed his face in unsparing detail. It revealed the +deep lines, the terrible, drawn lips, the ugly hair long over the dark +ears. His strong hands tightened upon the breech of the rifle. His wiry +figure grew tense. + +Of course it wouldn't do to let his prey come too close. Landy Hildreth +was a good shot too, young as Cranston, and of equal strength; and no +sporting chance could be taken in this hunting. Cranston had no +intention of giving his enemy even the slightest chance to defend +himself. If Hildreth got down into the valley, his testimony would make +short work of the arson ring. He had the goods; he had been a member of +the disreputable crowd himself. + +The man's steps were quite distinct by now. Cranston heard him fighting +his way through the brush thickets, and once a flock of grouse, +frightened from their perches by the approaching figure, flew down the +trail in front. Cranston pressed back the hammer of his rifle. The click +sounded loud in the silence. He had grown tense and still, and the +leaves no longer rustled. + +His eyes were intent on a little clearing, possibly one hundred yards up +the trail. The trail itself went straight through it. And in an instant +more, Hildreth pushed through the buckbrush and stood revealed in the +moonlight. + +If there is one quality that means success in the mountains it is +constant, unceasing self-control. Cranston thought that he had it. He +had known the hard schools of the hills; and he thought no circumstance +could break the rigid discipline in which his mind and nerves held his +muscles. But perhaps he had waited too long for Hildreth to come; and +the strain had told on him. He had sworn to take no false steps; that +every motion he made should be cool and sure. He didn't want to attract +Hildreth's attention by any sudden movement. All must be cautious and +stealthy. But in spite of all these good resolutions, Cranston's gun +simply leaped to his shoulder in one convulsive motion at the first +glimpse of his enemy as he emerged into the moonlight. + +The end of the barrel struck a branch of the shrubbery as it went up. It +was only a soft sound; but in the utter silence it traveled far. But a +noise in the brush might not have been enough in itself to alarm +Hildreth. A deer springing up in the trail, or even a lesser creature, +might make as pronounced a sound. It was true that even unaccompanied by +any other suspicious circumstances, the man would have become instantly +alert and watchful; but it was extremely doubtful that his muscular +reaction would have been the same. But the gun barrel caught the +moonlight as it leaped, and Hildreth saw its glint in the darkness. + +It was only a flash. But yet there is no other object in the material +world that glints exactly like a gun barrel in the light. It has a look +all its own. It is even more distinctive in the sunlight, and now and +again men have owed their lives to a momentary glitter across a +half-mile of forest. Of course the ordinary, peaceful, God-fearing man, +walking down a trail at night, likely would not have given the gleam +more than an instant's thought, a momentary breathlessness in which the +throat closes and the muscles set; and it is more than probable that the +sleeping senses would not have interpreted it at all. But Hildreth was +looking for trouble. He had dreaded this long walk to the settlements +more than any experience of his life. He didn't know why the letter he +had written, asking for an armed escort down to the courts, had not +brought results. But it was wholly possible that Cranston would have +answered this question for him. This same letter had fallen into a +certain soiled, deadly pair of hands which was the last place in the +world that Hildreth would have chosen, and it had been all the evidence +that was needed, at the meeting of the ring the night before, to adjudge +Hildreth a merciless and immediate end. Hildreth would have preferred to +wait in the hills and possibly to write another letter, but a chill that +kept growing at his finger tips forbade it. And all these things +combined to stretch his nerves almost to the breaking point as he stole +along the moonlit trail under the pines. + +A moment before the rush and whir of the grouse flock had dried the +roof of his mouth with terror. The tall trees appalled him, the shadows +fell upon his spirit. And when he heard this final sound, when he saw +the glint that might so easily have been a gun-barrel, his nerves and +muscles reacted at once. Not even a fraction of a second intervened. His +gun flashed up, just as a small-game shooter hurls his weapon when a +mallard glints above the decoys, and a little, angry cylinder of flame +darted, as a snake's head darts, from the muzzle. + +Hildreth didn't take aim. There wasn't time. The report roared in the +darkness; the bullet sang harmlessly and thudded into the earth; and +both of them were the last things in the world that Cranston had +expected. And they were not a moment too soon. Even at that instant, his +finger was closing down upon the trigger, Hildreth standing clear and +revealed through the sights. The nervous response that few men in the +world would be self-disciplined enough to prevent occurred at the same +instant that he pressed the trigger. His own fire answered, so near to +the other that both of them sounded as one report. + +Most hunters can usually tell, even if they cannot see their game fall, +whether they have hit or missed. This was one of the few times in his +life that Cranston could not have told. He knew that as his finger +pressed he had held as accurate a "bead" as at any time in his life. He +did not know still another circumstance,--that in the moonlight he had +overestimated the distance to the clearing, and instead of one hundreds +yards it was scarcely fifty. He had held rather high. And he looked up, +unknowing whether he had succeeded or whether he was face to face with +the prospect of a duel to the death in the darkness. + +And all he saw was Hildreth, rocking back and forth in the moonlight,--a +strange picture that he was never entirely to forget. It was a motion +that no man could pretend. And he knew he had not missed. + +He waited till he saw the form of his enemy rock down, face half-buried +in the pine needles. It never even occurred to him to approach to see if +he had made a clean kill. He had held on the breast and he had a world +of confidence in his great, shocking, big-game rifle. Besides, the rifle +fire might attract some hunter in the hills; and there would be time in +the morning to return to the body and make certain little investigations +that he had in mind. And running back down the trail, he missed the +sight of Hildreth dragging his wounded body, like an injured hare, into +the shelter of the thickets. + + + + +III + + +Whisperfoot, that great coward, came out of his brush-covert when the +moon rose. It was not his usual rising time. Ordinarily he found his +best hunting in the eerie light of the twilight hour; but for certain +reasons, his knowledge of which would be extremely difficult to explain, +he let this time go by in slumber. The general verdict of mankind has +decreed that animals cannot reason. Therefore it is somewhat awkward to +explain how Whisperfoot knew that he needn't be in a hurry, that the +moon would soon be up, and the deer would be feeding in their light. But +know all these things he did, act upon them he also did, and it all came +to the same in the end. Whether or not he could reason didn't affect the +fact that a certain chipmunk, standing at the threshold of his house to +glimpse the moonlit forest, saw him come slipping like a cloud of brown +smoke from his lair a full hour after the little creature had every +right to think that he had gone to his hunting,--and straightway tumbled +back into his house with a near attack of heart failure. + +But the truth was that the chipmunk was presuming upon his own +desirability as food. His fear really wasn't justified. It would not be +altogether true to say that Whisperfoot never ate chipmunks. Sometimes +in winter, and sometimes in the dawns after an unsuccessful hunt, he ate +things a great deal smaller and many times more disagreeable than +chipmunks. But the great cat is always very proud when he first leaves +his lair. He won't look at anything smaller than a horned buck. He is a +great deal like a human hunter who will pass up a lone teal on the way +out and slay a pair of his own live-duck decoys on the way back. + +Whisperfoot had slept almost since dawn. It is a significant quality in +the felines that they simply cannot keep in condition without hours and +hours of sleep. It is true that they are highly nervous creatures, +sensualists of the worst, and living intensely from twilight to dawn; +and they burn up more nervous energy in a night than Urson, the +porcupine, does in a year. In this matter of sleeping, they are in a +direct contrast to the wolves, who seemingly never sleep at all, unless +it is with one eye open, and in still greater contrast to the king of +all beasts, the elephant, who is said to slumber less per night than +that great electrical wizard whom all men know and praise. + +The great cat came out yawning, as graceful a thing as treads upon the +earth. He was almost nine feet long from the tip of his nose to the end +of his tail, and he weighed as much as many a full-grown man. And he +fairly rippled when he walked, seemingly without effort, almost without +resting his cushions on the ground. He stood and yawned insolently, for +all the forest world to see. He rather hoped that the chipmunk, staring +with beady eyes from his doorway, did see him. He would just as soon +that Woof's little son, the bear cub, should see him too. But he wasn't +so particular about Woof himself, or the wolf pack whose song had just +wakened him. And above all things, he wanted to keep out of the sight of +men. + +For when all things are said and done, there were few bigger cowards in +the whole wilderness world than Whisperfoot. A good many people think +that Graycoat the coyote could take lessons from him in this respect. +But others, knowing how a hunter is brought in occasionally with almost +all human resemblance gone from him because a cougar charged in his +death agony, think this is unfair to the larger animal. And it is true +that a full-grown cougar will sometimes attack horned cattle, something +that no American animal cares to do unless he wants a good fight on his +paws and of which the very thought would throw Graycoat into a spasm; +and there have been even stranger stories, if one could quite believe +them. A certain measure of respect must be extended to any animal that +will hunt the great bull elk, for to miss the stroke and get caught +beneath the churning, lashing, slashing, razor-edged front hoofs is +simply death, painful and without delay. But the difficulty lies in the +fact that these things are not done in the ordinary, rational blood of +hunting. What an animal does in its death agony, or to protect its +young, what great game it follows in the starving times of winter, can +be put to neither its debit nor its credit. A coyote will charge when +mad. A raccoon will put up a wicked fight when cornered. A hen will peck +at the hand that robs her nest. When hunting was fairly good, +Whisperfoot avoided the elk and steer almost as punctiliously as he +avoided men, which is saying very much indeed; and any kind of terrier +could usually drive him straight up a tree. + +But he did like to pretend to be very great and terrible among the +smaller forest creatures. And he was Fear itself to the deer. A human +hunter who would kill two deer a week for fifty-two weeks would be +called a much uglier name than poacher; but yet this had been +Whisperfoot's record, on and off, ever since his second year. Many a +great buck wore the scar of the full stroke,--after which Whisperfoot +had lost his hold. Many a fawn had crouched panting with terror in the +thickets at just a tawny light on the gnarled limb of a pine. Many a doe +would grow great-eyed and terrified at just his strange, pungent smell +on the wind. + +He yawned again, and his fangs looked white and abnormally large in the +moonlight. His great, green eyes were still clouded and languorous from +sleep. Then he began to steal up the ridge toward his hunting grounds. +Dry as the thickets were, still he seemed to traverse them with almost +absolute silence. It was a curious thing that he walked straight in the +face of the soft wind that came down from the snow fields, and yet there +wasn't a weathercock to be seen anywhere. And neither had the chipmunk +seen him wet a paw and hold it up, after the approved fashion of holding +up a finger. He had a better way of knowing,--a chill at the end of his +whiskers. + +In fact, the other forest creatures did not see him at all. He took very +great precautions that they shouldn't. Whisperfoot was not a +long-distance runner, and his whole success depended on a surprise +attack, either by stalking or from ambush. In this he is different from +his fellow cowards, the wolves. Whisperfoot catches his meat fresh, +before terror has time to steal out of the heart and poison it; and +thus, he tells his cubs, he is a higher creature than the wolves. He +kept to the deepest shadow, sometimes the long, strange profile of a +pine, sometimes just the thickets of buckbrush. + +And by now, he no longer cared to yawn. He was wide awake. The sleep had +gone out of his eyes and left them swimming in a curious, blue-green +fire. And the hunting madness was getting to him: that wild, exultant +fever that comes fresh to all the hunting creatures as soon as the night +comes down. + +The little, breathless night sounds in the brush around him seemed to +madden him. They made a song to him, a strange, wild melody that even +such frontiersmen as Dan and Lennox could not experience. A thousand +smells brushed down to him on the wind, more potent than any wine or +lust. He began to tremble all over with rapture and excitement. But +unlike Cranston's trembling, no wilderness ear was keen enough to hear +the leaves rustling beneath him. + +His excitement did not affect his hunting skill at all. In fact, he +couldn't succeed without it. A human hunter, with the same excitement +and fever, would have been rendered impotent long since. His aim would +be shattered, he would make false steps to frighten the game, and not +even Urson, the porcupine, would really have cause to fear him. The +reason is rather simple. Man has lived a civilized existence for so long +that many of the traits that make him a successful hunter have to be +laboriously re-learned. As soon as he becomes excited, he forgets his +training. The hunting cunning of a cougar, however, is inborn, and like +a great pianist, he can usually do better when he is warmed up to his +work. + +Men would cross many seas for a few minutes of such wild, nerve-tingling +rapture as Whisperfoot knew as he crept into his hunting grounds. Ever +he went more cautiously, his tawny body lowering. And just as he reached +the ridge top he heard his first game. + +It was just a rustle in the thickets at one side. Whisperfoot stopped +dead still, then slowly lowered his body. The only motion left was the +sinuous whipping of his tail. But he couldn't identify his game yet. He +peered with fiery eyes into the darkness. He was almost in leaping range +already. + +But at once he knew that the creature that grunted and stirred in the +brush was not a deer. A deer would have detected his presence long +since, as the animal was at one side of him, instead of in front, and +would have caught his scent. Then, the wind blowing straighter, he +recognized the creature. It was just old Urson, the porcupine. + +For very good reasons, Whisperfoot never attacked Urson except in +moments of utmost need. It was extremely doubtful that he spared him for +the same reason that he was spared by the wisest of the +mountaineers,--that he was game to be taken when starving and when no +other could be procured. It was rather that he was very awkward to kill +and considerably worse to eat. + +It is better to dine on nightshade, says a forest law, than to eat a +porcupine; for the former innocent-looking little berry is almost as +fast a death as a rifle bullet, and the flesh of the latter animal will +torture with a hundred red-hot fires in the vitals before its eater is +driven to its eternal lair. But it isn't that the porcupine's flesh is +poison. It is just that an incautious bite on its armored body will fill +the throat and mouth with spines, needle points that work ever deeper +until they result in death. And so it is quite a tribute to +Whisperfoot's intelligence that he had killed and devoured no less than +a dozen porcupines and still lived to tell the tale. + +He simply knew how to handle them. He knew an upward scoop with the end +of his claws that would tip the creature over; and then he would pounce +on the unprotected abdomen. But it was considerable trouble, and he had +to be careful of the spines all the time he was eating,--a particular +annoyance to one who habitually and savagely bolts his food. So he made +a careful detour about Urson and continued on his way. He heard the +latter squealing and rattling his quills behind him. + + + + +IV + + +Shortly after nine o'clock, Whisperfoot encountered his first herd of +deer. But they caught his scent and scattered before he could get up to +them. He met Woof, grunting through the underbrush, and again he +punctiliously, but with wretched spirit, left the trail. A fight with +Woof the bear was one of the most unpleasant experiences that could be +imagined. He had a pair of strong arms of which one embrace of a +cougar's body meant death in one long shriek of pain. Of course they +didn't fight often. They had entirely opposite interests. The bear was a +berry-eater and a honey-grubber, and the cougar cared too much for his +own life and beauty to tackle Woof in a hunting way. + +A fawn leaped from the thicket in front of him, startled by his sound in +the thicket. The truth was, Whisperfoot had made a wholly unjustified +misstep on a dry twig, just at the crucial moment. Perhaps it was the +fault of Woof, whose presence had driven Whisperfoot from the trail, +and perhaps because old age and stiffness was coming upon him. But +neither of these facts appeased his anger. He could scarcely suppress a +snarl of fury and disappointment. + +He continued along the ridge, still stealing, still alert, but his anger +increasing with every moment. The fact that he had to leave the trail +again to permit still another animal to pass, and a particularly +insignificant one too, didn't make him feel any better. This animal had +a number of curious stripes along his back, and usually did nothing more +desperate than steal eggs and eat bird fledglings. Whisperfoot could +have crushed him with one bite, but this was one thing that the great +cat, as long as he lived, would never try to do. He got out of the way +politely when Stripe-back was still a quarter of a mile away; which was +quite a compliment to the little animal's ability to introduce himself. +Stripe-back was familiarly known as a skunk. + +Shortly after ten, the mountain lion had a remarkably fine chance at a +buck. The direction of the wind, the trees, the thickets and the light +were all in his favor. It was old Blacktail, wallowing in the salt lick; +and Whisperfoot's heart bounded when he detected him. No human hunter +could have laid his plans with greater care. He had to cut up the side +of the ridge, mindful of the wind. Then there was a long dense thicket +in which he might approach within fifty feet of the lick, still with the +wind in his face. Just beside the lick was another deep thicket, from +which he could make his leap. + +Blacktail was wholly unsuspecting. No creature in the Oregon woods was +more beautiful than he. He had a noble spread of antlers, limbs that +were wings, and a body that was grace itself. He was a timid creature, +but he did not even dream of the tawny Danger that this instant was +creeping through the thickets upon him. + +Whisperfoot drew near, with infinite caution. He made a perfect stalk +clear to the end of the buckbrush. Thirty feet more--thirty feet of +particularly difficult stalking--and he would be in leaping range. If he +could only cross this last distance in silence, the game was his. + +His body lowered. The tail lashed back and forth, and now it had begun +to have a slight vertical motion that frontiersmen have learned to watch +for. He placed every paw with consummate grace, and few sets of human +nerves have sufficient control over leg muscles to move with such +astounding, exacting patience. He scarcely seemed to move at all. + +The distance slowly shortened. He was almost to the last thicket, from +which he might spring. His wild blood was leaping in his veins. + +But when scarcely ten feet remained to stalk, a sudden sound pricked +through the darkness. It came from afar, but it was no less terrible. It +was really two sounds, so close together that they sounded as one. +Neither Blacktail nor Whisperfoot had any delusions about them. They +recognized them at once, in strange ways under the skin that no man may +describe, as the far-off reports of a rifle. Just to-day Blacktail had +seen his doe fall bleeding when this same sound, only louder, spoke from +a covert from which Bert Cranston had poached her,--and he left the lick +in one bound. + +Terrified though he was by the rifle shot, still Whisperfoot sprang. But +the distance was too far. His outstretched paw hummed down four feet +behind Blacktail's flank. Then forgetting everything but his anger and +disappointment, the great cougar opened his mouth and howled. + +Howling, the forest people know, never helped one living thing. Of +course this means such howls as Whisperfoot uttered now, not that +deliberate long singsong by which certain of the beasts of prey will +sometimes throw a herd of game into a panic and cause them to run into +an ambush. All Whisperfoot's howl of anger achieved was to frighten all +the deer out of his territory and render it extremely unlikely that he +would have another chance at them that night. Even Dan and Lennox, too +far distant to hear the shots, heard the howl very plainly, and both of +them rejoiced that he had missed. + +The long night was almost done when Whisperfoot even got sight of +further game. Once a flock of grouse exploded with a roar of wings from +a thicket; but they had been wakened by the first whisper of dawn in the +wind, and he really had no chance at them. Soon after this, the moon +set. + +The larger creatures of the forest are almost as helpless in absolute +darkness as human beings. It is very well to talk of seeing in the dark, +but from the nature of things, even vertical pupils may only respond to +light. No owl or bat can see in absolute darkness. Although the stars +still burned, and possibly a fine filament of light had spread out from +the East, the descending moon left the forest much too dark for +Whisperfoot to hunt with any advantage. It became increasingly likely +that he would have to retire to his lair without any meal whatever. + +But still he remained, hoping against hope. After a futile fifteen +minutes of watching a trail, he heard a doe feeding on a hillside. Its +footfall was not so heavy as the sturdy tramp of a buck, and besides, +the bucks would be higher on the ridges this time of morning. He began a +cautious advance toward it. + +For the first fifty yards the hunt was in his favor. He came up wind, +and the brush made a perfect cover. But the doe unfortunately was +standing a full twenty yards farther, in an open glade. For a long +moment the tawny creature stood motionless, hoping that the prey would +wander toward him. But even in this darkness, he could tell that she was +making a half-circle that would miss him by forty yards, a course that +would eventually take her down wind in almost the direction that +Whisperfoot had come. + +Under ordinary circumstances, Whisperfoot would not have made an attack. +A cougar can run swiftly, but a deer is light itself. The big cat would +have preferred to linger, a motionless thing in the thickets, hoping +some other member of the deer herd to which the doe must have belonged +would come into his ambush. But the hunt was late, and Whisperfoot was +very, very angry. Too many times this night he had missed his kill. +Besides, the herd was certainly somewhere down wind, and for certain +very important reasons a cougar might as well hunt elephants as try to +stalk down wind. The breeze carries his scent more surely than a servant +carries a visiting card. In desperation, he leaped from the thicket and +charged the deer. + +In spite of the preponderant odds against him, the charge was almost a +success. He went fully half the distance between them before the deer +perceived him. Then she leaped. There seemed to be no interlude of time +between the instant that she beheld the dim, tawny figure in the air and +that in which her long legs pushed out in a spring. But she didn't leap +straight ahead. She knew enough of the cougars to know that the great +cat would certainly aim for her head and neck in the same way that a +duck-hunter leads a fast-flying duck,--hoping to intercept her leap. +Even as her feet left the ground she seemed to whirl in the air, and the +deadly talons whipped down in vain. Then, cutting back in front, she +raced down wind. + +It is usually the most unmitigated folly for a cougar to chase a deer +against which he has missed his stroke; and it is also quite fatal to +his dignity. And whoever doubts for a minute that the larger creatures +have no dignity, and that it is not very dear to them, simply knows +nothing about the ways of animals. They cling to it to the death. And +nothing is quite so amusing to old Woof, the bear--who, after all, has +the best sense of humor in the forest--as the sight of a tawny, majestic +mountain lion, rabid and foaming at the mouth, in an effort to chase a +deer that he can't possibly catch. But to-night it was too dark for Woof +to see. Besides, one disappointment after another had crumbled, as the +rains crumble leaves, the last vestige of Whisperfoot's self-control. +Snarling in fury, he bounded after the doe. + +She was lost to sight at once in the darkness, but for fully thirty +yards he raced in her pursuit. And it is true that deep down in his own +well of instincts--those mysterious waters that the events of life can +hardly trouble--he really didn't expect to overtake her. If he had +stopped to think, it would have been one of the really great surprises +of his life to hear the sudden, unmistakable stir and movement of a +large, living creature not fifteen feet distant in the thicket. + +He didn't stop to think at all. He didn't puzzle on the extreme +unlikelihood of a doe halting in her flight from a cougar. It is +doubtful whether, in the thickets, he had any perceptions of the +creature other than its movements. He was running down wind, so it is +certain that he didn't smell it. If he saw it at all, it was just as a +shadow, sufficiently large to be that of a deer. It was moving, crawling +as Woof sometimes crawled, seemingly to get out of his path. And +Whisperfoot leaped straight at it. + +It was a perfect shot. He landed high on its shoulders. His head lashed +down, and the white teeth closed. All the long life of his race he had +known that pungent essence that flowed forth. His senses perceived it, a +message shot along his nerves to his brain. And then he opened his mouth +in a high, far-carrying squeal of utter, abject terror. + +He sprang a full fifteen feet back into the thickets; then crouched. The +hair stood still at his shoulders, his claws were bared; he was prepared +to fight to the death. He didn't understand. He only knew the worst +single terror of his life. It was not a doe that he had attacked in the +darkness. It was not Urson, the porcupine, or even Woof. It was that +imperial master of all things, man himself. Unknowing, he had attacked +Landy Hildreth, lying wounded from Cranston's bullet beside the trail. +Word of the arson ring would never reach the settlements, after all. + +And as for Whisperfoot,--the terror that choked his heart with blood +began to wear off in a little while. The man lay so still in the +thickets. Besides, there was a strange, wild smell in the air. +Whisperfoot's stroke had gone home so true there had not even been a +fight. The darkness began to lift around him, and a strange exultation, +a rapture unknown before in all his hunting, began to creep into his +wild blood. Then, as a shadow steals, he went creeping back to his +dead. + + + + +V + + +Dan Failing had been studying nature on the high ridges; and he went +home by a back trail that led to old Bald Mountain. Many a man of longer +residence in the mountains wouldn't have cared to strike off through the +thickets with no guide except his own sense of direction. The ridges are +too many, and they look too much alike. It is very easy to walk in a +great circle--because one leg tires before the other--with no hope +whatever of anything except the spirit ever rising above the barrier of +the pines. But Dan always knew exactly where he was. It was part of his +inheritance from his frontiersmen ancestors, and it freed his wings in +the hills. + +The trail was just a narrow serpent in the brush; and it had not been +made by gangs of laborers, working with shovels and picks. Possibly half +a dozen white men, in all, had ever walked along it. It was just the +path of the wild creatures, worn down by hoof and paw and cushion since +the young days of the world. + +It was covered, like a sheep lane, with little slit triangles in the +yellow dirt. Some of them were hardly larger than the print of a man's +thumb, and they went all the way up to a great imprint that Dan could +scarcely cover with his open hand. All manner of deer, from seasonal +fawns with spotted coats and wide, startled eyes to the great bull elk, +monarch of the forest, had passed that way before him. Once he found the +traces of an old kill, where a cougar had dined and from which the +buzzards had but newly departed. And once he saw where Woof had left his +challenge in the bark of a great pine. + +This is a very common thing for Woof to do,--to go about leaving +challenges as if he were the most warlike creature in the world. In +reality, he never fights until he is driven to it, and then his big, +furry arms turn out to be steel compressors of the first order; he is +patient and good-natured and ordinarily all he wants to do is sleep in +the leaves and grunt and soliloquize and hunt berries. But woe to the +man or beast who meets him in a rough-and-tumble fight. Unlike his great +cousin the Grizzly, that American Adamzad that not only walks like a man +but kills cattle like a butcher, he almost never eats meat. No one ever +pays any attention to his challenges either, and likely he never +thought any one would. They seemed to be the result of an inherited +tendency with him, just as much as to grow drowsy in winter, or to +scratch fleas from his furry hide. + +He sees a tree that suits his fancy and immediately stands on his hind +legs beside it. Then he scratches the bark, just as high up as he can +reach. The idea seemed to be that if any other bear should journey along +that way, should find that he couldn't reach as high, he would +immediately quit the territory. But it doesn't work out in practice. +Nine times out of ten there will be a dozen Woofs in the same +neighborhood, no two of equal size, yet they hunt their berries and rob +their bee trees in perfect peace. Perhaps the impulse still remains, a +dim, remembered instinct, long after it has outlived its +usefulness,--just as man, ten thousand years after his arboreal +existence, will often throw his arms into the air as if to seize a tree +branch when he is badly frightened. + +It was a roundabout trail home, but yet it had its advantages. It took +him within two miles of Snowbird's lookout station, and at this hour of +day he had been particularly fortunate in finding her at a certain +spring on the mountain side. It was a rather singular coincidence. Along +about four he would usually find himself wandering up that way. +Strangely enough, at the same time, it was true that she had an +irresistible impulse to go down and sit in the green ferns beside the +same spring. They always seemed to be surprised to see one another. In +reality, either of them would have been considerably more surprised had +the other failed to put in an appearance. And always they had long +talks, as the afternoon drew to twilight. + +"But I don't think you ought to wait so late before starting home," the +girl would always say. "You're not a human hawk, and it is easier to get +lost than you think." + +And this solicitude, Dan rightly figured, was a good sign. There was +only one objection to it. It resulted in an unmistakable inference that +she considered him unable to take care of himself,--and that was the +last thing on earth that he wanted her to think. He understood her well +enough to know that her standards were the standards of the mountains, +valuing strength and self-reliance above all things. He didn't stop to +question why, every day, he trod so many weary miles to be with her. + +She was as natural as a fawn; and many times she had quite taken away +his breath. And once she did it literally. He didn't think that so long +as death spared him he would ever be able to forget that experience. It +was her birthday, and knowing of it in time he had arranged for the +delivery of a certain package, dear to a girlish heart, at her father's +house. In the trysting hour he had come trudging over the hills with it, +and few experiences in his life had ever yielded such unmitigated +pleasure as the sight of her, glowing white and red, as she took off its +wrapping paper. It was a jolly old gift, he recollected.--And when she +had seen it, she fairly leaped at him. Her warm, round arms around his +neck, and the softest, loveliest lips in the world pressed his. But in +those days he didn't have the strength that he had now. He felt he could +endure the same experience again with no embarrassment whatever. His +first impression then, besides abounding, incredible astonishment, was +that she had quite knocked out his breath. But let it be said for him +that he recovered with notable promptness. His own arms had gone up and +closed around,--and the girl had wriggled free. + +"But you mustn't do that!" she told him. + +"But, good Lord, girl! You did it to me! Is there no justice in women?" + +"But I did it to thank you for this lovely gift. For remembering me--for +being so good--and considerate. You haven't any cause to thank me." + +He had many very serious difficulties in thinking it out. And only one +conclusion was obtainable,--that Snowbird kissed as naturally as she did +anything else, and the kiss meant exactly what she said it did and no +more. But the fact remained that he would have walked a good many miles +farther if he thought there was any possibility of a repeat. + +But all at once his fantasies were suddenly and rudely dispelled by the +intrusion of realities. Even a man in the depths of concentration cannot +be inattentive to the wild sounds of the mountains. They have a +commanding, a penetrating quality all their own. A mathematician cannot +walk over a mountain trail pondering on the fourth dimension when some +living creature is consistently cracking brush in the thickets beside +him. Human nature is directly opposed to such a thing, and it is too +much to expect of any man. He has too many race memories of saber-tooth +tigers, springing from their lairs, and likely he has heard too many +bear stories in his youth. + +Dan had been walking silently himself in the pine needles. As Lennox had +wondered at long ago, he knew how by instinct; and instinctively he +practiced this attainment as soon as he got out into the wild. The +creature was fully one hundred yards distant, yet Dan could hear him +with entire plainness. And for a while he couldn't even guess what +manner of thing it might be. + +A cougar that made so much noise would be immediately expelled from the +union. A wolf pack, running by sight, might crack brush as freely; but a +wolf pack would also bay to wake the dead. Of course it might be an elk +or a steer, and still more likely, a bear. He stood still and listened. +The sound grew nearer. + +Soon it became evident that the creature was either walking with two +legs, or else was a four-footed animal putting two feet down at the same +instant. Dan had learned to wait. He stood perfectly still. And +gradually he came to the conclusion that he was listening to the +footfall of another man. + +But it was rather hard to imagine what a man might be doing on this +lonely hill. Of course it might be a deer hunter; but few were the +valley sportsmen who had penetrated to this far land. The footfall was +much too heavy for Snowbird. The steps were evidently on another trail +that intersected his own trail one hundred yards farther up the hill. He +had only to stand still, and in an instant the man would come in sight. + +He took one step into the thickets, prepared to conceal himself if it +became necessary. Then he waited. Soon the man stepped out on the +trail. + +Even at the distance of one hundred yards, Dan had no difficulty +whatever in recognizing him. He could not mistake this tall, dark form, +the soiled, slouchy clothes, the rough hair, the intent, dark features. +It was a man about his own age, his own height, but weighing fully +twenty pounds more, and the dark, narrow eyes could belong to no one but +Bert Cranston. He carried his rifle loosely in his arms. + +He stopped at the forks in the trail and looked carefully in all +directions. Dan had every reason to think that Cranston would see him at +first glance. Only one clump of thicket sheltered him. But because Dan +had learned the lesson of standing still, because his olive-drab +sporting clothes blended softly with the colored leaves, Cranston did +not detect him. He turned and strode on down the trail. + +He didn't move quite like a man with innocent purposes. There was +something stealthy, something sinister in his stride, and the way he +kept such a sharp lookout in all directions. Yet he never glanced to the +trail for deer tracks, as he would have done had he been hunting. +Without even waiting to meditate on the matter, Dan started to shadow +him. + +Before one hundred yards had been traversed, he could better understand +the joy the cougar takes in his hunting. It was the same process,--a +cautious, silent advance in the trail of prey. He had to walk with the +same caution, he had to take advantage of the thickets. He began to feel +a curious excitement. + +Cranston seemed to be moving more carefully now, examining the brush +along the trail. Now and then he glanced up at the tree tops. And all at +once he stopped and knelt in the dry shrubbery. + +At first all that Dan could see was the glitter of a knife blade. +Cranston seemed to be whittling a piece of dead pine into fine shavings. +Now he was gathering pine needles and small twigs, making a little pile +of them. And then, just as Cranston drew his match, Dan saw his purpose. + +Cranston was at his old trade,--setting a forest fire. + + + + +VI + + +For two very good reasons, Dan didn't call to Cranston at once. The two +reasons were that Cranston had a rifle and that Dan was unarmed. It +might be extremely likely that Cranston would choose the most plausible +and effective means of preventing an interruption of his crime, and by +the same token, prevent word of the crime ever reaching the authorities. +The rifle contained five cartridges, and only one was needed. + +But the idea of backing out, unseen, never even occurred to Dan. The +fire would have a tremendous headway before he could summon help. +Although it was near the lookout station, every condition pointed to a +disastrous fire. The brush was dry as tinder, not so heavy as to choke +the wind, but yet tall enough to carry the flame into the tree tops. The +stiff breeze up the ridge would certainly carry the flame for miles +through the parched Divide before help could come. In the meantime stock +and lives and homes would be endangered, besides the irreparable loss of +timber. There were many things that Dan might do, but giving up was not +one of them. + +After all, he did the wisest thing of all. He simply came out in plain +sight and unconcernedly walked down the trail toward Cranston. At the +same instant, the latter struck his match. + +As Dan was no longer stalking, Cranston immediately heard his step. He +whirled, recognized Dan, and for one long instant in which the world +seemed to have time in plenty to make a complete revolution, he stood +perfectly motionless. The match flared in his dark fingers, his +eyes--full of singular conjecturing--rested on Dan's face. No instant of +the latter's life had ever been fraught with greater peril. He +understood perfectly what was going on in Cranston's mind. The +fire-fiend was calmly deciding whether to shoot or whether to bluff it +out. One required no more moral courage than the other. It really didn't +make a great deal of difference to Cranston. + +He had been born in the hills, and his spirit was the spirit of the +wolf,--to kill when necessary, without mercy or remorse. Besides, Dan +represented, in his mind, all that Cranston hated,--the law, gentleness, +the great civilized world that spread below. But in spite of it, he +decided that the killing was not worth the cartridge. The other course +was too easy. He did not even dream that Dan had been shadowing him and +had seen his intention. He would have laughed at the idea that a +"tenderfoot" could thus walk behind him, unheard. Without concern, he +scattered with his foot the little heap of kindling, and slipping his +pipe into his mouth, he touched the flaring match to it. It was a wholly +admirable little piece of acting, and would have deceived any one who +had not seen his previous preparations. The fact that the pipe was empty +mattered not one way or another. Then he walked on down the trail toward +Dan. + +Dan stopped and lighted his own pipe. It was a curious little truce. And +then he leaned back against the great, gray trunk of a fallen tree. + +"Well, Cranston," he said civilly. The men had met on previous +occasions, and always there had been the same invisible war between +them. + +"How do you do, Failing," Cranston replied. No perceptions could be so +blunt as to miss the premeditated insult in the tone. He didn't speak in +his own tongue at all, the short, guttural "Howdy" that is the greeting +of the mountain men. He pronounced all the words with an exaggerated +precision, an unmistakable mockery of Dan's own tone. In his accent he +threw a tone of sickly sweetness, and his inference was all too plain. +He was simply calling Failing a milksop and a white-liver; just as +plainly as if he had used the words. + +The eyes of the two men met. Cranston's lips were slightly curled in an +unmistakable leer. Dan's were very straight. And in one thing at least, +their eyes looked just the same. The pupils of both pairs had contracted +to steel points, bright in the dark gray of the irises. Cranston's +looked somewhat red; and Dan's were only hard and bright. + +Dan felt himself straighten; and the color mounted somewhat higher in +his brown cheeks. But he did not try to avenge the insult--yet. Cranston +was still fifteen feet distant, and that was too far. A man may swing a +rifle within fifteen feet. The fact that they were in no way physical +equals did not even occur to him. When the insult is great enough, such +considerations cannot possibly matter. Cranston was hard as steel, one +hundred and seventy pounds in weight. Dan did not touch one hundred and +fifty, and a deadly disease had not yet entirely relinquished its hold +upon him. + +"I do very well, Cranston," Dan answered in the same tone. "Wouldn't you +like another match? I believe your pipe has gone out." + +Very little can be said for the wisdom of this remark. It was simply +human,--that age-old creed to answer blow for blow and insult for +insult. Of course the inference was obvious,--that Dan was accusing him, +by innuendo, of his late attempt at arson. Cranston glanced up quickly, +and it might be true that his fingers itched and tingled about the +barrel of his rifle. He knew what Dan meant. He understood perfectly +that Dan had guessed his purpose on the mountain side. And the curl at +his lips became more pronounced. + +"What a smart little boy," he scorned. "Going to be a Sherlock Holmes +when he grows up." Then he half turned and the light in his eyes blazed +up. He was not leering now. The mountain men are too intense to play at +insult very long. Their inherent savagery comes to the surface, and they +want the warmth of blood upon their fingers. The voice became guttural. +"Maybe you're a spy?" he asked. "Maybe you're one of those city rats--to +come up and watch us, and then run and tell the forest service. There's +two things, Failing, that I want you to know." + +Dan puffed at his pipe, and his eyes looked curiously bright through the +film of smoke. "I'm not interested in hearing them," he said. + +"It might pay you," Cranston went on. "One of 'em is that one man's word +is good as another's in a court--and it wouldn't do you any good to run +down and tell tales. A man can light his pipe on the mountain side +without the courts being interested. The second thing is--just that I +don't think you'd find it a healthy thing to do." + +"I suppose, then, that is a threat?" + +"It ain't just a threat." Cranston laughed harshly,--a single, grim +syllable that was the most terrible sound he had yet uttered. "It's a +fact. Just try it, Failing. Just make one little step in that direction. +You couldn't hide behind a girl's skirts then. Why, you city sissy, I'd +break you to pieces in my hands!" + +Few men can make a threat without a muscular accompaniment. Its very +utterance releases pent-up emotions, part of which can only pour forth +in muscular expression. And anger is a primitive thing, going down to +the most mysterious depths of a man's nature. As Cranston spoke, his lip +curled, his dark fingers clenched on his thick palm, and he half leaned +forward. + +Dan knocked out his pipe on the log. It was the only sound in that whole +mountain realm; all the lesser sounds were stilled. The two men stood +face to face, Dan tranquil, Cranston shaken by passion. + +"I give you," said Dan with entire coldness, "an opportunity to take +that back. Just about four seconds." + +He stood very straight as he spoke, and his eyes did not waver in the +least. It would not be the truth to say that his heart was not leaping +like a wild thing in his breast. A dark mist was spreading like madness +over his brain; but yet he was striving to keep his thoughts clear. It +was hard to do, under insult. But he knew that only by craft, by cool +thinking and planning, could he even hope to stand against the brawny +Cranston. He kept a remorseless control over his voice and face. +Stealthily, without seeming to do so, he was setting his muscles for a +spring. + +The only answer to his words was a laugh,--a roaring laugh of scorn from +Cranston's dark lips. In his laughter, his intent, catlike vigilance +relaxed. Dan saw a chance; feeble though it was, it was the only chance +he had. And his long body leaped like a serpent through the air. + +Physical superior though he was, Cranston would have repelled the attack +with his rifle if he had had a chance. His blood was already at the +murder heat--a point always quickly reached in Cranston--and the dark, +hot fumes in his brain were simply nothing more nor less than the most +poisonous, bitter hatred. No other word exists. If his class of +degenerate mountain men had no other accomplishment, they could hate. +All their lives they practiced the emotion: hatred of their neighbors, +hatred of law, hatred of civilization in all its forms. Besides, this +kind of hillman habitually fought his duels with rifles. Hands were not +deadly enough. + +But Dan was past his guard before he had time to raise his gun. The +whole attack was one of the most astounding surprises of Cranston's +life. Dan's body struck his, his fists flailed, and to protect himself, +Cranston was obliged to drop the rifle. They staggered, as if in some +weird dance, on the trail; and their arms clasped in a clinch. + +For a long instant they stood straining, seemingly motionless. +Cranston's powerful body had stood up well under the shock of Dan's +leap. It was a hand-to-hand battle now. The rifle had slid on down the +hillside, to be caught in a clump of brush twenty feet below. Dan called +on every ounce of his strength, because he knew what mercy he might +expect if Cranston mastered him. The battles of the mountains were +battles to the death. + +They flung back and forth, wrenching shoulders, lashing fists, teeth and +feet and fingers. There were no Marquis of Queensbury rules in this +battle. Again and again Dan sent home his blows; but they all seemed +ineffective. By now, Cranston had completely overcome the moment's +advantage the other had obtained by the power of his leap. He hurled Dan +from the clinch and lashed at him with hard fists. + +It is a very common thing to hear of a silent fight. But it is really a +more rare occurrence than most people believe. It is true that serpents +will often fight in the strangest, most eerie silence; but human beings +are not serpents. They partake more of the qualities of the +meat-eaters,--the wolves and the felines. After the first instant, the +noise of the fight aroused the whole hillside. The sound of blows was in +itself notable, and besides, both of the men were howling the primordial +battle cries of hatred and vengeance. + +For two long minutes Dan fought with the strength of desperation, +summoning at last all that mysterious reserve force with which all men +are born. But he was playing a losing game. The malady with which he had +suffered had taken too much of his vigor. Even as he struggled, it +seemed to him that the vista about him, the dark pines, the colored +leaves of the perennial shrubbery, the yellow path were all obscured in +a strange, white mist. A great wind roared in his ears,--and his heart +was evidently about to shiver to pieces. + +But still he fought on, not daring to yield. He could no longer parry +Cranston's blows. The latter's arms went around him in one of those +deadly holds that wrestlers know; and Dan struggled in vain to free +himself. Cranston's face itself seemed hideous and unreal in the mist +that was creeping over him. He did not recognize the curious thumping +sound as Cranston's fists on his flesh. And now Cranston had hurled him +off his feet. + +Nothing mattered further. He had fought the best he could. This cruel +beast could pounce on him at will and hammer away his life. But still he +struggled. Except for the constant play of his muscles, his almost +unconscious effort to free himself that kept one of Cranston's arms busy +holding him down, that fight on the mountain path might have come to a +sudden end. Human bodies can stand a terrific punishment; but Dan's was +weakened from the ravages of his disease. Besides, Cranston would soon +have both hands and both feet free for the work, and when these four +terrible weapons are used at once, the issue--soon or late--can never be +in doubt. + +But even now, consciousness still lingered. Dan could hear his enemy's +curses,--and far up the trail, he heard another, stranger sound. It was +that second of acute sensibilities that usually immediately precedes +unconsciousness, and he heard it very plainly. It sounded like some one +running. + +And then he dimly knew that Cranston was climbing from his body. Voices +were speaking,--quick, commanding voices just over him. Above Cranston's +savage curses another voice rang clear, and to Dan's ears, glorious +beyond all human utterance. + +He opened his tortured eyes. The mists lifted from in front of them, and +the whole drama was revealed. It had not been sudden mercy that had +driven Cranston from his body, just when his victim's falling +unconsciousness would have put him completely in his power. Rather it +was something black and ominous that even now was pointed squarely at +Cranston's breast. + +None too soon, a ranger of the hill had heard the sounds of the +struggle, and had left the trysting place at the spring to come to Dan's +aid. It was Snowbird, very pale but wholly self-sufficient and +determined and intent. Her pistol was quite cocked and ready. + + + + +VII + + +Dan Failing was really not badly hurt. The quick, lashing blows had not +done more than severely bruise the flesh of his face; and the mists of +unconsciousness that had been falling over him were more nearly the +result of his own tremendous physical exertion. Now these mists were +rising. + +"Go--go away," the girl was commanding. "I think you've killed him." + +Dan opened his eyes to find her kneeling close beside him, but still +covering Cranston with her pistol. Her hand was resting on his bruised +cheek. He couldn't have believed that a human face could be as white, +while life still remained, as hers was then. All the lovely tints that +had been such a delight to him, the play of soft reds and browns, had +faded as an after-glow fades on the snow. + +Dan's glance moved with hers to Cranston. He was standing easily at a +distance of a dozen feet; and except for the faintest tremble all over +his body, a muscular reaction from the violence of his passion, he had +entirely regained his self-composure. This was quite characteristic of +the mountain men. They share with the beasts a passion of living that is +wholly unknown on the plains; but yet they have a certain quality of +imperturbability known nowhere else. Nor is it limited to the +native-born mountaineers. No man who intimately knows a member of that +curious, keen-eyed little army of naturalists and big-game hunters who +go to the north woods every fall, as regularly and seemingly as +inexorably as the waterfowl go in spring, can doubt this fact. They seem +to have acquired from the silence and the snows an impregnation of that +eternal calm and imperturbability that is the wilderness itself. +Cranston wasn't in the least afraid. Fear is usually a matter of +uncertainty, and he knew exactly where he stood. + +It is extremely doubtful if a plainsman would have possessed this +knowledge. But a plainsman has not the knowledge of life itself that the +mountaineer has, simply because he does not see it in the raw. And he +has not half the intimate knowledge of death, an absolute requisite of +self-composure. The mountaineer knows life in its simple phases with +little tradition or convention to blur the vision. Death is a very +intimate acquaintance that may be met in any snowdrift, on any rocky +trail; and these conditions are very deadly to any delusions that he has +in regard to himself. He acquires an ability to see just where he +stands, and of course that means self-possession. This quality had +something to do with the remarkable record that the mountain men, such +as that magnificent warrior from Tennessee, made in the late war. + +Cranston knew exactly what Snowbird would do. Although of a higher +order, she was a mountain creature, even as himself. She meant exactly +what she said. If he hadn't climbed from Dan's prone body, she would +have shot quickly and very straight. If he tried to attack either of +them now, her finger would press back before he could blink an eye, and +she wouldn't weep any hysterical tears over his dead body. If he kept +his distance, she wouldn't shoot at all. He meant to keep his distance. +But he did know that he could insult her without danger to himself. And +by now his lips had acquired their old curl of scorn. + +"I'll go, Snowbird," he said. "I'll leave you with your sissy. But I +guess you saw what I did to him--in two minutes." + +"I saw. But you must remember he's sick. Now go." + +"If he's sick, let him stay in bed--and have a wet nurse. Maybe you can +be that." + +The lids drooped halfway over her gray eyes, and the slim finger curled +more tightly about the trigger. "Oh, I wish I could shoot you, Bert!" +she said. She didn't whisper it, or hiss it, or hurl it, or do any of +the things most people are supposed to do in moments of violent emotion. +She simply said it, and her meaning was all the clearer. + +"But you can't. And I'll pound that milksop of yours to a jelly every +time I see him. I'd think, Snowbird, that you'd want a _man_." + +He started up the trail; and then she did a strange thing. "He's more of +a man than you are, right now, Bert," she told him. "He'll prove it some +day." Then her arm went about Dan's neck and lifted his head upon her +breast; and in Cranston's plain sight, she bent and kissed him, softly, +on the lips. + +Cranston's answer was an oath. It dripped from his lips, more poisonous, +more malicious than the venom of a snake. His late calm, treasured so +much, dropped from him in an instant. His features seemed to tighten, +the dark lips drew away from his teeth. No words could have made him +such an effective answer as this little action of hers. And as he turned +up the trail, he called down to her a name,--that most dreadful epithet +that foul tongues have always used to women held in greatest scorn. + +Dan struggled in her arms. The kiss on his lips, the instant before, had +not called him out of his half-consciousness. It had scarcely seemed +real, rather just an incident in a blissful dream. But the word called +down the trail shot out clear and vivid from the silence, just as a +physician's face will often leap from the darkness after the anesthesia. +The whole scene in an instant became incredibly vivid,--the dark figure +on the trail, the girl's white face above him, narrow-eyed and +drawn-lipped, and the dark pines, silent and sad, overhead. Something +infinitely warm and tender was holding him, pressing him back against a +holy place that throbbed and gave him life and strength; but he knew +that this word had to be answered. And only actions, not other words, +could be its payment. All the voices of his body called to him to lie +still, but the voices of the spirit, those higher, nobler promptings +from which no man, to the glory of the breed from which he sprung, can +ever quite escape, were stronger yet. He tugged upward, straining. But +he didn't even have the strength to break the hold that the soft arm had +about his neck. + +"Oh, if I could only pull the trigger!" she was crying. "If I could only +kill him--" + +"Let me," he pleaded. "Give me the pistol. I'll kill him--" + +And he would. There was no flinching in the gray eyes that looked up to +her. She leaned forward, as if to put the weapon in his hands, but at +once drew it back. And then a single sob caught at her throat. An +instant later, they heard Cranston's laughter as he vanished around the +turn of the trail. + +For long minutes the two of them were still. The girl still held the +man's head upon her breast. The pistol had fallen in the pine needles, +and her nervous hand plucked strangely at the leaves of a mountain +flower. To Dan's eyes, there was something trancelike, a hint of +paralysis and insensibility about her posture. He had never seen her +eyes like this. The light that he had always beheld in them had +vanished. Their utter darkness startled him. + +He sat up straight, and her arm that had been about his neck fell at her +side. He took her hand firmly in his, and their eyes met. + +"We must go home, Snowbird," he told her simply. "I'm not so badly hurt +but that I can make it." + +She nodded; but otherwise scarcely seemed to hear. Her eyes still +flowed with darkness. And then, before his own eyes, their dark pupils +began to contract. The hand he held filled and throbbed with life, and +the fingers closed around his. She leaned toward him. + +"Listen, Dan," she said quickly. "You heard--didn't you--the last thing +that he said?" + +"I couldn't help but hear, Snowbird." + +Her other hand sought for his. "Then if you heard--payment must be made. +You see what I mean, Dan. Maybe you can't see, knowing the girls that +live on the plains. You were the cause of his saying it, and you must +answer--" + +It seemed to Dan that some stern code of the hills, unwritten except in +the hearts of their children, inexorable as night, was speaking through +her lips. This was no personal thing. In some dim, half-understood way, +it went back to the basic code of life. + +"People must fight their own fights, up here," she told him. "The laws +of the courts that the plains' people can appeal to are all too far +away. There's no one that can do it, except you. Not my father. My +father can't fight your battles here, if your honor is going to stand. +It's up to you, Dan. You can't pretend that you didn't hear him. Such as +you are, weak and sick to be beaten to a pulp in two minutes, you alone +will have to make him answer for it. I came to your aid--and now you +must come to mine." + +Her fingers no longer clasped his. Strength had come back to him, and +his fingers closed down until the blood went out of hers, but she was +wholly unconscious of the pain. In reality, she was conscious of nothing +except the growing flame in his face. It held her eyes, in passionate +fascination. His pupils were contracting to little bright dots in the +gray irises. The jaw was setting, as she had never seen it before. + +"Do you _think_, Snowbird, that you'd even have to ask me?" he demanded. +"Don't you think I understand? And it won't be in your defense--only my +own duty." + +"But he is so strong--and you are so weak--" + +"I won't be so weak forever. I never really cared much about living +before. I'll try now, and you'll see--oh, Snowbird, wait and trust me: I +understand everything. It's my own fight--when you kissed me, and he +cried down that word in anger and jealousy, it put the whole thing on +me. No one else can make him answer; no one else has the right. It's my +honor, no one else's, that stands or falls." + +He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it again and again. + +And for the first time he saw the tears gathering in her dark eyes. "But +you _fought_ here, didn't you, Dan?" she asked with painful slowness. +"You didn't put up your arms--or try to run away? I didn't come till he +had you done, so I didn't see." She looked at him as if her whole joy of +life hung on his answer. + +"Fought! I would have fought till I died! But that isn't enough, +Snowbird. It isn't enough just to fight, in a case like this. A man's +got to win! I would have died if you hadn't come. And that's another +debt that I have to pay--only that debt I owe to _you_." + +She nodded slowly. The lives of the mountain men are not saved by their +women without incurring obligation. She attempted no barren denials. She +made no effort to pretend he had not incurred a tremendous debt when she +had come with her pistol. It was an unavoidable fact. A life for a life +is the code of the mountains. + +"Two things I must do, before I can ever dare to die," he told her +soberly. "One of them is to pay you; the other is to pay Cranston for +the thing he said. Maybe the chance will never come for the first of the +two; only I'll pray that it will. Maybe it would be kinder to you to +pray that it wouldn't; yet I pray that it will! Maybe I can pay that +debt only by being always ready, always watching for a chance to save +you from any danger, always trying to protect you. You didn't come in +time to see the fight I made. Besides--I lost, and little else matters. +And that debt to you can't be paid until sometime I fight again--for +you--and win." He gasped from his weakness, but went on bravely. "I'll +never be able to feel at peace, Snowbird, until I'm tested in the fire +before your eyes! I want to show you the things Cranston said of me are +not true--that my courage can stand the test. + +"It wouldn't be the same, perhaps, with an Eastern girl. Other things +matter in the valleys. But I see how it is here; that there is only one +standard for men and by that standard they rise or fall. Things in the +mountains are down to the essentials." + +He paused and struggled for strength to continue. "And I know what you +said to him," he went on. "Half-unconscious as I was, I remember every +word. Each word just seems to burn into me, Snowbird, and I'll make +every one of them good. You said I am a better man than he, and sometime +it would be proved--and it's the truth! Maybe in a month, maybe in a +year. I'm not going to die from this malady of mine now, Snowbird. I've +got too much to live for--too many debts to pay. In the end, I'll prove +your words to him." + +His eyes grew earnest, and the hard fire went out of them. "It's almost +as if you were a queen, a real queen of some great kingdom," he told +her, tremulous with a great awe that was stealing over him, as a mist +steals over water. "And because I had kissed your fingers, for ever and +ever I was your subject, living only to fight your fights--maybe with a +dream in the end to kiss your fingers again. When you bent and kissed me +on that hillside--for him to see--it was the same: that I was sworn to +you, and nothing mattered in my life except the service and love I could +give to you. And it's more than you ever dream, Snowbird. It's all +yours, for your battles and your happiness." + +The great pines were silent above them, shadowed and dark. Perhaps they +were listening to an age-old story, those vows of service and +self-gained worth by which the race has struggled upward from the +darkness. + +"But I kissed you--once before," she reminded him. The voice was just a +whisper, hardly louder than the stir of the leaves in the wind. + +"But that kiss didn't count," he told her. "It wasn't at all the same. I +loved you then, I think, but it didn't mean what it did to-day." + +"And what--" she leaned toward him, her eyes full on his, "does it mean +now?" + +"All that's worth while in life, all that matters when everything is +said that can be said, and all is done that can be done. And it means, +please God, when the debts are paid, that I may have such a kiss again." + +"Not until then," she told him, whispering. + +"Until then, I make oath that I won't even ask it, or receive it if you +should give it. It goes too deep, dearest--and it means too much." + +This was their pact. Not until the debts were paid and her word made +good would those lips be his again. There was no need for further words. +Both of them knew. The soldier of the queen must be tried with fire, +before he may return to kiss her fingers. The light burns clear in this. +No instances of degeneracy, no exceptions brought to pass by thwarted +nature, can affect the truth of this. + +In the skies, the gray clouds were gathering swiftly, as always in the +mountains. The rain-drops were falling one and one, over the forest. The +summer was done, and fall had come in earnest. + + + + +VIII + + +The rains fell unceasingly for seven days: not a downpour but a constant +drizzle that made the distant ridges smoke. The parched earth seemed to +smack its lips, and little rivulets began to fall and tumble over the +beds of the dry streams. The Rogue and the Umpqua flooded and the great +steelhead began to ascend their smaller tributaries. Whisperfoot hunted +with ease, for the wet shrubbery did not crack and give him away. The +air was filled with the call of the birds of passage. + +All danger of forest fire was at once removed, and Snowbird was no +longer needed as a lookout on old Bald Mountain. She went to her own +home, her companion back to the valley; and now that his sister had +taken his place as housekeeper, Bill had gone down to the lower +foothills with a great part of the live stock. Dan spent these rainy +days in toil on the hillsides, building himself physically so that he +might pay his debts. + +It was no great pleasure, these rainy days. He would have greatly liked +to have lingered in the square mountain house, listening to the quiet +murmur of the rain on the roof and watching Snowbird at her household +tasks. She could, as her father had said, make a biscuit. She could also +roll up sleeves over trim, brown arms and with entire good humor do a +week's laundry for three hardworking men. He would have liked to sit +with her, through the long afternoons, as she knitted beside the +fireplace--to watch the play of her graceful fingers and perhaps, now +and then, to touch her hands when he held the skeins. But none of these +things transpired. He drove himself from daylight till dark, developing +his body for the tests that were sure to come. + +The first few days nearly killed him. He over-exercised in the chill +rain, and one anxious night he developed all the symptoms of pneumonia. +Such a sickness would have been the one thing needed to make the +doctor's prophecy come true. But with Snowbird's aid, and numerous hot +drinks, he fought it off. + +She had made him go to bed, and no human memory could be so dull as to +forget the little, whispered message that she gave him with his last +spoonful of medicine. She said she'd pray for him, and she meant it +too,--literal, entreating prayer that could not go unheard. She was a +mountain girl, and her beliefs were those of her ancestors,--simple and +true and wholly without affectation. But he hadn't relaxed thereafter. +He knew the time had come to make the test. Night after night he would +go to bed half-sick from fatigue, but the mornings would find him fresh. +And after two weeks, he knew he had passed the crisis and was on the +direct road to complete recovery. + +Sometimes he cut wood in the forest: first the felling of some tall +pine, then the trimming and hewing into two-foot lengths. The blisters +came on his hands, broke and bled, but finally hardened into +callosities. He learned the most effective stroke to hurl a shower of +chips from beneath the blade. His back and limbs hardened from the +handling of heavy wood--and the cough was practically gone. + +Sometimes he mended fences and did other manual labor about the ranch; +but not all his exercise was taken out in work. He didn't forget his +friends in the forest, creatures of talon and paw and wing. He spent +long days roaming the ridges and fighting through the buckbrush, and the +forest yielded up its secrets, one by one. But he knew that no mortal +span of years was long enough to absorb them all. Sometimes he shot +ducks over the marshes; and there was no greater sport for him in the +wilds than the first sight of a fine, black-pencil line upon the +distant sky, the leap through the air that it made until, in an +instant's flash, it evolved into a flock of mallard passing with the +wind; and then the test of eye and nerve as he saw them over the sights. + +His frame filled out. His face became swarthy from constant exposure. He +gained in weight. A month glided by, and he began to see the first +movement of the largest forest creatures down to the foothills. For not +even the animals, with the exception of the hardy wolf pack, can survive +if unprotected from the winter snow and cold of the high levels. The +first snow sifted from the gray sky and quickly melted on the wet pine +needles. And then the migration of the deer began in earnest. Before +another week was done, Whisperfoot had cause to marvel where they had +all gone. + +One cloudy afternoon in early November found Silas Lennox cutting wood +on the ridge behind his house. It was still an open question with him +whether he and his daughter would attempt to winter on the Divide. Dan +of course wanted to remain, yet there were certain reasons, some very +definite and others extremely vague, why the prospect of the winter in +the snow fields did not appeal to the mountaineer. In the first place, +all signs pointed to a hard season. Although the fall had come late, +the snows were exceptionally early. The duck flight was completed two +weeks before its usual time, and the rodents had dug their burrows +unusually deep. Besides, too many months of snow weigh heavily upon the +spirit. The wolf packs sing endlessly on the ridges, and many unpleasant +things may happen. On previous years, some of the cabins on the ridges +below had human occupants; this winter the whole region, for nearly +seventy miles across the mountains to the foothills, would be wholly +deserted by human beings. Even the ranger station, twelve miles across a +steep ridge, would soon be empty. Of course a few ranchers had homes a +few miles beyond the river, but the wild cataracts did not freeze in the +coldest of seasons, and there were no bridges. Besides, most of the more +prosperous farmers wintered in the valleys. Only a few more days would +the road be passable for his car; and no time must be lost in making his +decision. + +Once the snows came in reality, there was nothing to do but stay. +Seventy miles across the uncharted ridges on snowshoes is an undertaking +for which even a mountaineer has no fondness. It might be the wisest +thing, after all, to load Snowbird and Dan into his car and drive down +to the valleys. The fall round-up would soon be completed, Bill would +return for a few days from the valleys with new equipment to replace the +broken lighting system on the car, and they could avoid the bitter cold +and snow that Lennox had known so long. Of course he would miss it +somewhat. He had a strong man's love for the endless drifts, the +crackling dawns and the hushed, winter forest wherein not even Woof or +Whisperfoot dares to go abroad. He chopped at a great log and wondered +what would suit him better,--the comfort and safety of the valleys or +the rugged glory of the ridges. + +But at that instant, the question of whether or not he would winter on +the Divide was decided for him. And an instant was all that was needed. +For the period of one breath he forgot to be watchful,--and a certain +dread Spirit that abides much in the forest saw its chance. Perhaps he +had lived too long in the mountains and grown careless of them: an +attitude that is usually punished with death. He had just felled a tree, +and the trunk was still attached to the stump by a stripe of bark to +which a little of the wood adhered. He struck a furious blow at it with +his ax. + +He hadn't considered that the tree lay on a steep slope. As the blade +fell, the great trunk simply seemed to leap. Lennox leaped too, in a +frenzied effort to save his life; but already the leafy bows, like the +tendrils of some great amphibian, had whipped around his legs. He fell, +struggling; and then a curious darkness, streaked with flame, dropped +down upon him. + +An hour later he found himself lying on the still hillside, knowing only +a great wonderment. At first his only impulse was to go back to sleep. +He didn't understand the grayness that had come upon the mountain world, +his own strange feeling of numbness, of endless soaring through infinite +spaces. But he was a mountain man, and that meant he was schooled, +beyond all things, to keep his self-control. He made himself remember. +It was the cruelest work he had ever done, and it seemed to him that his +brain would shiver to pieces from the effort. Yes--he had been cutting +wood on the hillside, and the shadows had been long. He had been +wondering whether or not they should go down to the valleys. + +He remembered now: the last blow and the rolling log. He tried to turn +his head to look up to the hill. + +He found himself wholly unable to do it. Something wracked him in his +neck when he tried to move. But he did glance down. And yes, he could +turn in this direction. And he saw the great tree trunk lying twenty +feet below him, wedged in between the young pines. + +He was surrounded by broken fragments of limbs, and it was evident that +the tree had not struck him a full blow. The limbs had protected him to +some extent. No man is of such mold as to be crushed under the solid +weight of the trunk and live to remember it. He wondered if this were +the frontier of death,--the grayness that lingered over him. He seemed +to be soaring. + +He brought himself back to earth and tried again to remember. Of course, +the twilight had fallen. It had been late afternoon when he had cut the +tree. His hand stole along his body; and then, for the first time, a +hideous sickness came upon him. His hand was warm and wet when he +brought it up. The other hand he couldn't stretch at all. + +The forest was silent around him, except a bird calling somewhere near +the house--a full voice, rich and clear, and it seemed to him that it +had a quality of distress. Then he recognized it. It was the voice of +his own daughter, Snowbird, calling for him. He tried to answer her. + +It was only a whisper, at first. Yet she was coming nearer; and her own +voice sounded louder. "Here, Snowbird," he called again. She heard him +then: he could tell by the startled tone of her reply. The next instant +she was at his side, her tears dropping on his face. + +With a tremendous effort of will, he recalled his speeding faculties. "I +don't think I'm badly hurt," he told her very quietly. "A few ribs +broken--and a leg. But we'll have to winter here on the Divide, Snowbird +mine." + +"What does it matter, if you live," she cried. She crawled along the +pine needles beside him, and tore his shirt from his breast. He was +rapidly sinking into unconsciousness. The thing she dreaded most--that +his back might be broken--was evidently not true. There were, as he +said, broken ribs and evidently one severe fracture of the leg bone. +Whether he had sustained internal injuries that would end his life +before the morning, she had no way of knowing. + +At that point, the problem of saving her father's life fell wholly into +her hands. It was perfectly plain that he could not aid himself in the +slightest way. It was evident, also, he could not be moved, except +possibly for the distance to the house. She banished all impulse toward +hysteria and at once began to consider all phases of the case. + +His broken body could not be carried over the mountain road to +physicians in the valleys. They must be transported to the ranch. It +would take them a full day to make the trip, even if she could get word +to them at once; and twenty-four hours without medical attention would +probably cost her father his life. The nearest telephone was at the +ranger station, twelve miles distant over a mountain trail. The +telephone line to Bald Mountain, four miles off, had been disconnected +when the rains had ended the peril of the forest fire. + +It all depended upon her. Bill was driving cattle into the valleys, and +he and his men had in use all the horses on the ranch with one +exception. The remaining horse had been ridden by Dan to some distant +marshes, and as Dan would shoot until sunset, that meant he would not +return until ten o'clock. There was no road for a car to the ranger +station, only a rough steep trail, and she remembered, with a sinking +heart, that one of Bill's missions in the valley was to procure a new +lighting system. By no conceivable possibility could she drive down that +mountain road in the darkness. But she was somewhat relieved by the +thought that in all probability she could walk twelve miles across the +mountains to the ranger station in much less time than she could drive, +by automobile, seventy miles down to the ranches at the foothills about +the valley. + +Besides, she remembered with a gladdening heart that Richards, one of +the rangers, had been a student at a medical college and had taken a +position with the Forest Service to regain his health. She would cross +the ridge to the station, 'phone for a doctor in the valleys, and would +return on horseback with Richards for such first aid as he could give. +The only problem that remained was that of getting her father into the +house. + +He was stirring a little now. Evidently consciousness was returning to +him. And then she thanked Heaven for the few simple lessons in first aid +that her father had taught her in the days before his carelessness had +come upon him. He had been wise enough to know that rare would be her +fortune if sometime she did not have need of such knowledge. + +One of his lessons had been that of carrying an unconscious human +form,--a method by which even a woman may carry, for a short distance, a +heavy man. It was approximately the method used in carrying wounded in +No Man's Land: the body thrown over the shoulders, one arm through the +fork of the legs to the wounded man's hand. Her father was not a +particularly heavy man, and she was an exceptionally strong young woman. +She knew at once that this problem was solved. + +The hardest part was lifting him to her shoulders. Only by calling upon +her last ounce of strength, and tugging upward with her arms, was she +able to do it. But it was fairly easy, in her desperation, to carry him +down the hill. What rest she got she took by leaning against a tree, the +limp body still across her shoulders. + +It was a distance of one hundred yards in all. No muscles but those +trained by the outdoors, no lungs except those made strong by the +mountain air, could have stood that test. She laid him on his own bed, +on the lower floor, and set his broken limbs the best she could. She +covered him up with thick, fleecy blankets, and set a bottle of whisky +beside the bed. Then she wrote a note to Dan and fastened it upon one of +the interior doors. + +She had learned, long ago, the value of frequent rests. She did not fly +at once to her long tramp. For three minutes she lay perfectly limp on +the fireplace divan, resting from the exertion of carrying her father +down the hill. Then she drew on her hob-nailed boots--needed sorely for +the steep climb--and pocketed her pistol. She thrust a handful of jerked +venison into the pocket of her coat and lighted the lantern. The forest +night had fallen, soft and vibrant and tremulous, over the heads of the +dark trees when she started out. + +Far away on a distant hillside, Whisperfoot the cougar howled and +complained because he could find no deer. + + + + +IX + + +Snowbird felt very glad of her intimate, accurate knowledge of the whole +region of the Divide. In her infancy the winding trails had been her +playground, and long ago she had acquired the mountaineer's sixth sense +for traversing them at night. She had need of that knowledge now. The +moon was dim beneath thin clouds, and the lantern she carried did not +promise much aid. The glass was rather smoked from previous burnings, +and its flame glowed dully and threatened to go out altogether. It cast +a few lame beams on the trail beneath her feet; but they perished +quickly in the expanse of darkness. + +She slipped into her free, swinging stride; and the last beams from the +windows of the house were soon lost in the pines behind her. It was one +of those silent, breathless nights with which no mountaineer is entirely +unacquainted, and for a long tune the only sound she could hear was her +own soft tramp in the pine needles. The trees themselves were +motionless. That peculiar sound, not greatly different from that of +running water which the wind often makes in the pine tops, was entirely +lacking. Not that she could be deceived by it,--as stories tell that +certain tenderfeet, dying of thirst in the barren hills, have been. But +she always liked the sound; and she missed it especially to-night. + +She felt that if she would stop to listen, there would be many faint +sounds in the thickets,--those little hushed noises that the wild things +make to remind night-wanderers of their presence. But she did not in the +least care to hear these sounds. They do not tend toward peace of mind +on a long walk over the ridges. + +The wilderness began at once. Whatever influence toward civilization her +father's house had brought to the wilds chopped off as beneath a blade +in the first fringe of pines. This is altogether characteristic of the +Oregon forests. They are much too big and too old to be tamed in any +large degree by the presence of one house. No one knew this fact better +than Lennox himself who, in a hard winter of four years before, had +looked out of his window to find the wolf pack ranged in a hungry circle +about his house. Within two hundred yards after she had passed through +her father's door, she was perfectly aware that the wild was stirring +and throbbing with life about her. At first she tried very hard to think +of other things. But the attempt wasn't entirely a success. And before +she had covered the first of the twelve miles, the sounds that from the +first had been knocking at the door of her consciousness began to make +an entrance. + +If a person lies still long enough, he can usually hear his heart +beating and the flow of his blood in his arteries. Any sound, no matter +how faint, will make itself heard at last. It was this way with a very +peculiar noise that crept up through the silence from the trail behind +her. She wouldn't give it any heed at first. But in a very little while +indeed, it grew so insistent that she could no longer disregard it. + +Some living creature was trotting along on the trail behind, keeping +approximately the same distance between them. + +Foregoing any attempt to ignore it, she set her cool young mind to +thinking what manner of beast it might be. Its step was not greatly +different from that of a large dog,--except possibly a dog would have +made slightly more noise. Yet she couldn't even be sure of this basic +premise, because this animal, whatever it might be, had at first +seemingly moved with utmost caution, but now took less care with its +step than is customary with the wild denizens of the woods. A wolf, for +instance, can simply drift when it wishes, and the silence of a cougar +is a name. Yet unless her pursuer were a dog, which seemed entirely +unlikely, it was certainly one of these two. She would have liked very +much to believe the step was that of Old Woof, the bear, suddenly +curious as to what this dim light of hers might be; but she couldn't +bring herself to accept the lie. Woof, except when wounded or cornered, +is the most amiable creature in the Oregon woods, and it would give her +almost a sense of security to have him waddling along behind her. The +wolves and cougar, remembering the arms of Woof, would not be nearly so +curious. But unfortunately, the black bear had never done such a thing +in the memory of man, and if he had, he would have made six times as +much noise. He can go fairly softly when he is stalking, but when he is +obliged to trot--as he would be obliged to do to keep up with a +swift-walking human figure--he cracks twigs like a rolling log. She had +the impression that the animal behind had been passing like smoke at +first, but wasn't taking the trouble to do it now. + +The sound was a soft _pat-pat_ on the trail,--sometimes entirely +obliterated but always recurring when she began to believe that she had +only fancied its presence. Sometimes a twig, rain-soaked though it was, +cracked beneath a heavy foot, and again and again she heard the brush +crushing and rustling as something passed through. Behind it all, a +weird _motif_, remained the _pat-pat_ of cushioned feet. Sometimes, when +the trail was covered with soft pine needles, it was practically +indistinguishable. She had to strain to hear it,--and it is not pleasing +to the spirit to have to strain to hear any sound. On the bare, +rain-packed earth, even untrained plainsmen's ears could not possibly +doubt the reality of the sound. + +The animal was approximately one hundred feet behind. It wasn't a wolf, +she thought. The wolves ran in packs this season, and except in winter +were more afraid of human beings than any other living creature. It +wasn't a lynx--one of those curiosity-devoured little felines that will +mew all day on a trail and never dare come near. It was much too large +for a lynx. The feet fell too solidly. She had already given up the idea +that it could be Woof. There were no dogs in the mountains to follow at +heel; and she had no desire whatever to meet Shag, the faithful hybrid +that used to be her guardian in the hills. For Shag had gone to his +well-deserved rest several seasons before. Two other possibilities +remained. One was that this follower was a human being, the other that +it was a cougar. + +Ordinarily a human being is much more potentially dangerous to a woman +in the hills at night than a cougar. A cougar is an abject coward and +some men are not. But Snowbird felt herself entirely capable of handling +any human foes. They would have no advantage over her; they would have +no purpose in killing from ambush; and she trusted to her own +marksmanship implicitly. While it is an extremely difficult thing to +shoot at a cougar leaping from the thicket, a tall man standing on a +trail presents an easy target. Besides, she had a vague sense of +discomfort that if this animal were a cougar, he wasn't acting true to +form. He was altogether too bold. + +She knew perfectly that many times since men came to live in the +pine-clad mountains they have been followed by the great, tawny cats. +Curiosity had something to do with it, and perhaps less pleasing +reasons. But any dreadful instincts that such a cat may have, he utterly +lacks courage to obey. He has an inborn fear of men, a fear that goes +down to the roots of the world, and he simply doesn't dare make an +attack. It was always a rather distressing experience, but nothing ever +came of it except a good tale around a fireside. But most of these +episodes, Snowbird remembered, occurred either in daylight or in the dry +season. The reason was obviously that in the damp woods or at night a +stalking cougar cannot be perceived by human senses. Her own senses +could perceive this animal all too plainly,--and the fact suggested +unpleasant possibilities. + +The animal on the trail behind her was taking no care at all to go +silently. He was simply pat-patting along, wholly at his ease. He acted +as if the fear that men have instilled in his breed was somehow missing. +And that is why she instinctively tried to hurry on the trail. + +The step kept pace. For a long mile, up a barren ridge, she heard every +step it made. Then, as the brush closed deeper around her, she couldn't +hear it at all. + +She hurried on, straining to the silence. No, the sound was stopped. +Could it be that the animal, fearful at last, had turned from her trail? +And then for the first time a gasp that was not greatly different from a +despairing sob caught at her throat. She heard the steps again, and they +were in the thickets just beside her. + + * * * * * + +Two hours before Snowbird had left the house, on her long tramp to the +ranger station, Dan had started home. He hadn't shot until sunset, as he +had planned. The rear guard of the waterfowl--hardy birds who spent most +of the winter in the Lake region and which had come south in the great +flight that had been completed some weeks before--had passed in hundreds +over his blind, and he had obtained the limit he had set upon +himself--ten drake mallards--by four o'clock in the afternoon. If he had +stayed to shoot longer, his birds would have been wasted. So he started +back along a certain winding trail that led through the thickets and +which would, if followed long enough, carry him to the road that led to +the valleys. + +He rode one of Lennox's cattle ponies, the only piece of horse-flesh +that Bill had not taken to the valleys when he had driven down the +livestock. She was a pretty bay, a spirited, high-bred mare that could +whip about on her hind legs at the touch of the rein on her neck. She +made good time along the trail. And an hour before sunset he passed the +only human habitation between the marsh and Lennox's house,--the cabin +that had been recently occupied by Landy Hildreth. + +He glanced at the place as he passed and saw that it was deserted. No +smell of wood smoke remained in the air. Evidently Landy had gone down +to the settlements with his precious testimony in regard to the arson +ring. Yet it was curious that no word had been heard of him. As far as +Dan knew, neither the courts nor the Forest Service had taken action. + +He hurried on, four miles farther. The trail entered the heavy thickets, +and he had to ride slowly. It was as wild a section as could be found on +the whole Divide. Once a deer leaped from the trail, and once he heard +Woof grunting in the thickets. And just as he came to a little cleared +space, three strange, dark birds flung up on wide-spreading wings. + +He knew them at once. All mountaineers come to know them before their +days are done. They were the buzzards, the followers of the dead. And +what they were doing in the thicket just beside the trail, Dan did not +dare to think. + +Of course they might be feeding on the body of a deer, mortally wounded +by some hunter. He resolved to ride by without investigating. He glanced +up. The buzzards were hovering in the sky, evidently waiting for him to +pass. Then, mostly to relieve a curious sense of discomfort in his own +mind, he stopped his horse and dismounted. + +The twilight had started to fall, and already its first grayness had +begun to soften the harder lines of forest and hill. And after his +first glance at the curious white heap beside the trail, he was +extremely glad that it had. But there was no chance to mistake the +thing. The elements and much more terrible agents had each wrought their +change, yet there was grisly evidence in plenty to show what had +occurred. Dan didn't doubt for an instant but that it was the skeleton +of Landy Hildreth. + +He forced himself to go nearer. The buzzards were almost done, and one +white bone from the shoulder gave unmistakable evidence of the passage +of a bullet. What had happened thereafter, he could only guess. + +He got back quickly on his horse. He understood, now, why nothing had +been heard of the evidence that Landy Hildreth was to turn over to the +courts as to the activities of the arson ring. Some one--probably Bert +Cranston himself--had been waiting on the trail. Others had come +thereafter. And his lips set in his resolve to let this murder measure +in the debt he had to pay Cranston. + +The Lennox house seemed very silent when, almost an hour later, he +turned his horse into the corral. He had rather hoped that Snowbird +would be at the door to meet him. The darkness had just fallen, and all +the lamps were lighted. He strode into the living room, warming his +hands an instant beside the fireplace. The fire needed fuel. It had +evidently been neglected for nearly an hour. + +Then he called Snowbird. His voice echoed in the silent room, +unanswered. He called again, then went to look for her. At the door of +the dining room he found the note that she had left for him. + +It told, very simply and plainly, that her father lay injured in his +bed, and he was to remain and do what he could for him. She had gone for +help to the ranger station. + +He leaped through the rooms to Lennox's door, then went in on tiptoe. +And the first thing he saw when he opened the door was the grizzled +man's gray face on the pillow. + +"You're home early, Dan," he said. "How many did you get?" + +It was entirely characteristic. Shaggy old Woof is too proud to howl +over the wounds that lay him low, and this gray old bear on the bed had +partaken of his spirit. + +"Good Lord," Dan answered. "How badly are you hurt?" + +"Not so bad but that I'm sorry that Snowbird has gone drifting twelve +miles over the hills for help. It's dark as pitch." + +And it was. Dan could scarcely make out the outline of the somber ridges +against the sky. + +They talked on, and their subject was whether Dan should remain to take +care of Lennox, or whether he should attempt to overtake Snowbird with +the horse. Of course the girl had ordered him to stay. Lennox, on the +other hand, said that Dan could not help him in the least, and desired +him to follow the girl. + +"I'm not often anxious about her," he said slowly. "But it is a long +walk through the wildest part of the Divide. She's got nothing but a +pistol and a lantern that won't shine. Besides--I've had bad dreams." + +"You don't mean--" Dan's words came hard--"that she's in any danger from +the animals--the cougars--or the wolves?" + +"Barring accidents, no. But, Dan--I want you to go. I'm resting fairly +easily, and there's whisky on the table in case of a pinch. Someway--I +can't bar accidents to-night. I don't like to think of her on those +mountains alone." + +And remembering what had lain beside the trail, Dan felt the same. He +had heard, long ago, that any animal that has once tasted human flesh +loses its fear of men and is never to be trusted again. Some wild animal +that still hunted the ridges had, in the last month, done just that +thing. He left the room and walked softly to the door. + +The night lay silent and mysterious over the Divide. He stood listening. +The girl had started only an hour before, and it was unlikely that she +could have traversed more than two miles of the steep trail in that +time. He could fancy her toiling ever upward, somewhere on the dark +ridge that lay beyond. Although the horse ordinarily did not climb a +hill more swiftly than a human being, he didn't doubt but that he could +overtake her before she went three miles farther. But where lay his +duty,--with the injured man in the house or with the daughter on her +errand of mercy in the darkness? + +Then the matter was decided for him. So faint that it only whispered at +the dim, outer frontiers of hearing, a sound came pricking through the +darkness. Only his months of listening to the faint sounds of the +forest, and the incredible silence of the night enabled him to hear it +at all. But he knew what it was, the report of a pistol. Snowbird had +met an enemy in the darkness. + +He called once to Lennox, snatched the shotgun that still stood where he +had placed it in the corner of the room, and hastened to the corral. The +mare whickered plaintively when he took her from her food. + + + + +X + + +Even in the darkest night, there is one light that never brings hope or +cannot lead. It is not a twinkling, joyous light like that mysterious +will-o'-the-wisp that now and again has lured travelers into the marshes +to their death. Nor can any one ever mistake it, or be soothed and +cheered by it. It always appears the same way,--two green circles, close +together, in the darkness. + +When Snowbird first heard the step in the thickets beside her, she +halted bravely and held her lantern high. She understood at last. The +very extremity of the beams found a reflection in two very curious +circles of greenish fire: a fire that was old upon the world before man +ever rubbed two sticks together to strike a flame. Of course the dim +rays had simply been reflected on the eyes of some great beast of prey. + +She identified it at once. Only the eyes of the felines, with vertical +pupils, have this identical greenish glare. The eyes of the wolves glow +in the darkness, but the circles are usually just bright points. Of +course it was a cougar. + +She didn't cry out again. Realizing at last the reality of her peril, +her long training in the mountains came to her aid. That did not mean +she was not truly and terribly afraid. The sight of the eyes of a +hunting animal in the darkness calls up memories from the +germ-plasm,--deep-buried horrors of thousands of generations past, when +such lights glowed all about the mouth of the cave. Besides, the beast +was hunting _her_. She couldn't doubt this fact. Curiosity might make a +lion follow her, but it would never beget such a wild light of madness +in his eyes as this she had just seen. Only the frenzied pulse of wild +blood through the fine vessels of the corneas could occasion such a glow +as this. She simply clamped down all her moral strength on her rising +hysteria and looked her situation in the face. Her hand flew +instinctively to her side, and the pistol leaped in the lantern light. + +But the eyes had already blinked out before she could raise the weapon. +She shot twice. The echoes roared back, unbelievably loud in the +silence, and then abruptly died; and the only sound was a rustling of +leaves as the cougar crouched. She sobbed once, then hurried on. + +She was afraid to listen at first. She wanted to believe that her pistol +fire would frighten the animal from her trail. She knew, under ordinary +conditions, that it would. If he still followed, it could mean but one +thing,--that some unheard-of incident had occurred to destroy his fear +of men. It would mean that he had knowingly set upon her trail and was +hunting her with all the age-old remorselessness that is the code of the +mountains. + +For a little while all was silence. Then out of the hush the thickets +suddenly crashed and shook on the opposite side of the trail. She fired +blindly into the thicket. Then she caught herself with a sob. But two +shells remained in her pistol, and they must be saved for the test. + +Whisperfoot the cougar, remembering the lessons of his youth, turned +from the trail when he had first heard Snowbird's step. He had crouched +and let her pass. She was walking into the wind; and as she was at the +closest point a message had blown back to him. + +The hair went straight on his shoulders and along his spine. His blood, +running cold an instant before from fear, made a great leap in his +veins. A picture came in his dark mind: the chase for a deer when the +moon had set, the stir of a living thing that broke twigs in the +thickets, and the leap he had made. There had been blood, that +night,--the wildness and the madness and the exultation of the kill. Of +course there had been terror first, but the terror had soon departed and +left something lying warm and still in the thickets. It was the same +game that walked his trail in front--game that died easily and yet, in a +vague way he did not understand, the noblest game of all. It was living +flesh, to tear with talon and fang. + +All his training, all the instincts imbued in him by a thousand +generations of cougars who knew this greatest fear, were simply +obliterated by the sudden violence of his hunting-madness. He had tasted +this blood once, and it could never be forgotten. The flame leaped in +his eyes. And then he began the stalk. + +A cougar, trying to creep silently on its game, does not move quickly. +It simply steals, as a serpent steals through the grass. Whisperfoot +stalked for a period of five minutes, to learn that the prey was farther +away from him at every step. + +He trotted forward until he came close, and again he stalked. Again he +found, after a few minutes of silent creeping through the thickets, that +he had lost distance. Evidently this game did not feed slowly, like the +deer. It was to be a chase then. Again he trotted within one hundred +feet of the girl. + +Three times more he tried to stalk before he finally gave it up +altogether. This game was like the porcupine,--simply to be chased down +and taken. As in the case of all animals that hunt their game by +overtaking it, there was no longer any occasion for going silently. The +thing to do was to come close and spring from the trail behind. + +Though the fear was mostly gone, the cougar retained enough of that +caution that most wild animals exhibit when hunting a new game so that +he didn't attempt to strike Snowbird down at once. But as the chase went +on, his passion grew upon him. Ever he crept nearer. And at last he +sprang full into the thickets beside her. + +At that instant she had shot for the first time. Because the light had +left his eyes before she could find aim, both shots had been clean +misses. And terrible as the reports were, he was too engrossed in the +chase to be frightened away by mere sound. This was the cry the man-pack +always made,--these sudden, startling sounds in the silence. But he felt +no pain. He crouched a moment, shivering. Then he bounded on again. + +The third shot was a miss too: in fact, there had been no chance for a +hit. A sound in the darkness is as unreliable a target as can possibly +be imagined. And it didn't frighten him as much as the others. + +Three times he crouched, preparing for a spring, and three times his +tawny tail began that little up-and-down motion that is always the +warning before his leap. But each time, as he waited to find his +courage, the game had hurried on. + +Now she had her back to a tree and was holding the lantern high. It +glinted on his eyes. And the fourth time she shot, and something hot and +strange singed by close to his head. But it wasn't the pain of one quill +from a porcupine, and it only increased his anger. He waited, crouching, +and the girl started on. + +She was making other sounds now--queer, whimpering sounds not greatly +different from the bleat that the fawn utters when it dies. It was a +fear-sound, and if there is one emotion with which the wild beasts are +acquainted, in all its phases, it is fear. She was afraid of him then, +and that meant he need no longer be in the least afraid of her. His skin +began to twitch all over with that terrible madness and passion of the +flesh-hunters. + +This game was like the deer, and the thing to do was lie in wait. There +was only one trail. He was simply following his instincts, no conscious +intelligence, when he made a long circle about her and turned back to +the trail two hundred yards in front. He wasn't afraid of losing her in +the darkness. She was neither fleet like the deer nor courageous like +Woof, the bear. He had only to wait and leap from the darkness when she +passed. + +And because this was his own way of hunting, because the experiences of +a thousand generations of cougars had taught him that it was the safest +way, that even an elk may be downed by a surprise leap from ambush, the +last of his fear went out of him. The step drew nearer, and he knew he +would not again be afraid to give his stroke. + + * * * * * + +When Dan Failing, riding like mad over the mountain trail, heard the +third shot from Snowbird's pistol, he felt that one of the debts he owed +had come due at last. He seemed to know, as the darkness pressed around +him, that he was to be tried in the fire. And the horse staggered +beneath him as he tried to hasten. + +He showed no mercy to his mount. Horseflesh isn't made for carrying a +heavy man over such a trail as this, and she was red-nostriled and +lathered before half a mile had been covered. He made her leap up the +rocks, and on the fairly level stretches he loosed the reins and lashed +her into a gallop. Only a mountain horse could have stood that test. To +Dan's eyes, the darkness was absolute; yet she kept straight to the +trail. He made no attempt to guide her. She bounded over logs that he +couldn't see, and followed turn after turn in the trail without ever a +misstep. + +He gave no thought to his own safety. His courage was at the test, and +no risk of his own life must interfere with his attempt to save Snowbird +from the danger that threatened her. He didn't know when the horse would +fall with him and precipitate him down a precipice, and he was perfectly +aware that to crash into a low-hanging limb of one of the great trees +beside the trail would probably crush his skull. But he took the chance. +And before the ride was done he found himself pleading with the horse, +even as he lashed her sides with his whip. + +The lesser forest creatures sprang from his trail; and once the mare +leaped high to miss a dark shadow that crossed in front. As she caught +her stride, Dan heard a squeal and a rattle of quills that identified +the creature as a porcupine. + +By now he had passed the first of the worst grades, coming out upon a +long, easy slope of open forest. Again he urged his horse, leaving to +her keen senses alone the choosing of the path between the great tree +trunks. He rode almost in silence. The deep carpet of pine needles, wet +from the recent rains, dulled the sound of the horse's hoofs. + +Then he heard Snowbird fire for the fourth time; and he knew that he had +almost overtaken her. The report seemed to smash the air. And he lashed +his horse into the fastest run she knew,--a wild, sobbing figure in the +darkness. + +"She's only got one shot more," he said. He knew how many bullets her +pistol carried; and the danger--whatever it was--must be just at hand. +Underbrush cracked beneath him. And then the horse drew up with a jerk +that almost hurled him from the saddle. + +He lashed at her in vain. She was not afraid of the darkness and the +rocks of the trail, but some Terror in the woods in front had in an +instant broken his control over her. She reared, snorting; then danced +in an impotent circle. Meanwhile, precious seconds were fleeing. + +He understood now. The horse stood still, shivering beneath him, but +would not advance a step. The silence deepened. Somewhere in the +darkness before him a great cougar was waiting by the trail, and +Snowbird, hoping for the moment that it had given up the chase, was +hastening through the shadows squarely into its ambush. + +Whisperfoot crouched lower: and again his long serpent of a tail began +the little vertical motion that always precedes his leap. He had not +forgotten the wild rapture of that moment he had inadvertently sprung on +Landy Hildreth,--or how, after his terror had died, he had come creeping +back. He hunted his own way, waiting on the trail; and his madness was +at its height. He was not just Whisperfoot; the coward, that runs at the +shadow of a tall form in the thickets. The consummation was complete, +and that single experience of a month before had made of him a hunter of +men. His muscles set for the leap. + +So intent was he that his keen senses didn't detect the fact that there +was a curious echo to the girl's footsteps. Dan Failing had slipped down +from his terrified horse and was running up the trail behind her, +praying that he could be in time. + +Snowbird heard the pat, pat of his feet; but at first she did not dare +to hope that aid had come to her. She had thought of Dan as on the +far-away marshes; and her father, the only other living occupant of this +part of the Divide, might even now be lying dead in his house. In her +terror, she had lost all power of interpretation of events. The sound +might be the cougar's mate, or even the wolf pack, jealous of his game. +Sobbing, she hurried on into Whisperfoot's ambush. + +Then she heard a voice, and it seemed to be calling to her. +"Snowbird--I'm coming, Snowbird," a man's strong voice was shouting. She +whirled with a sob of thankfulness. + +At that instant the cougar sprang. + +Terrified though she was, Snowbird's reflexes had kept sure and true. +Even as the great cat leaped, a long, lithe shadow out of the shadow, +her finger pressed back against the trigger of her pistol. She had been +carrying her gun in front of her, and she fired it, this last time, with +no conscious effort. It was just a last instinctive effort to defend +herself. + +One other element affected the issue. She had whirled to answer Dan's +cry just as the cougar left the ground. But she had still been in range. +The only effect was to lessen, in some degree, the accuracy of the +spring. The bullet caught the beast in mid-air; but even if it had +reached its heart, the momentum of the attack was too great to be +completely overcome. Snowbird only knew that some vast, resistless power +had struck her, and that the darkness seemed to roar and explode about +her. + +Hurled to her face in the trail, she did not see the cougar sprawl on +the earth beside her. The flame in the lantern almost flicked out as it +fell from her hand, then flashed up and down, from the deepest gloom to +a vivid glare with something of the effect of lightning flickering in +the sky. Nor did she hear the first frenzied thrashing of the wounded +animal. Kindly unconsciousness had fallen, obscuring this and also the +sight of the great cat, in the agony of its wound, creeping with broken +shoulder and bared claws across the pine needles toward her defenseless +body. + +But the terrible fangs were never to know her white flesh. Some one had +come between. There was no chance to shoot: Whisperfoot and the girl +were too near together for that. But one course remained; and there was +not even time to count the cost. In this most terrible moment of Dan +Failing's life, there was not even an instant's hesitation. He did not +know that Whisperfoot was wounded. He saw the beast creeping forward in +the weird dancing light of the fallen lantern, and he only knew that his +flesh, not hers, must resist its rending talons. Nothing else mattered. +No other considerations could come between. + +It was the test; and Dan's instincts prompted coolly and well. He +leaped with all his strength. The cougar bounded into his arms, not upon +the prone body of the girl. And she opened her eyes to hear a curious +thrashing in the pine needles, a strange grim battle that, as the +lantern flashed out, was hidden in the darkness. + +And that battle, in the far reaches of the Divide, passed into a legend. +It was the tale of how Dan Failing, his gun knocked from his hands as he +met the cougar's leap, with his own unaided arms kept the life-giving +breath from the animal's lungs and killed him in the pine needles. Claw +and fang and the frenzy of death could not matter at all. + +Thus Failing established before all men his right to the name he bore. +And thus he paid one of his debts--life for a life, as the code of the +forest has always decreed--and in the fire of danger and pain his metal +was tried and proven. + + + + +BOOK THREE + +THE PAYMENT + + + + +I + + +The Lennox home, in the far wilderness of the Umpqua Divide, looked +rather like an emergency hospital for the first few days after Dan's +fight with Whisperfoot. Its old sounds of laughter and talk were almost +entirely lacking. Two injured men and a girl recovering from a nervous +collapse do not tend toward cheer. + +But the natural sturdiness of all three quickly came to their aid. Of +course Lennox had been severely injured by the falling log, and many +weeks would pass before he would be able to walk again. He could sit up +for short periods, however; had the partial use of one arm; and could +propel himself--after the first few weeks--at a snail's pace through the +rooms in a rude wheel chair that Bill's ingenuity had contrived. The +great livid scratches that Dan bore on his body quickly began to heal; +and before a week was done, he began to venture forth on the hills +again. Snowbird had remained in bed for three days: then she had hopped +out, one bright afternoon, swearing never to go back into it again. +Evidently the crisp, fall air of the mountains had been a nerve tonic +for them all. + +Of course there had been medical attention. A doctor and a nurse had +motored up the day after the accident; the physician had set the bones +and departed, and the nurse remained for a week, to see the grizzled +mountaineer well on the way of convalescence. But it was an anxious +wait, and Lennox's car was kept constantly in readiness to speed her +away in case the snows should start. At last she had left him in +Snowbird's hands, and Bill had driven her back to the settlements in his +father's car. The die was now cast as to whether or not Dan and the +remainder of the family should winter in the mountains. The snow clouds +deepened every day, the frost was ever heavier in the dawns, and the +road would surely remain open only a few days more. + +Once more the three seemingly had the Divide all to themselves. Bert +Cranston had evidently deserted his cabin and was working a trap-line on +the Umpqua side. The rangers left the little station, all danger of fire +past, and went down to their offices in the Federal building of one of +the little cities below. Because he was worse than useless in the deep +snows that were sure to come, one of the ranch hands that had driven up +with Bill rode away to the valleys the last of the live stock,--the +horse that Dan had ridden to Snowbird's defense. + +Nothing had been heard of Landy Hildreth, who used to live on the trail +to the marsh, and both Lennox and his daughter wondered why. There were +also certain officials who had begun to be curious. As yet, Dan had told +no one of the grim find he had made on his return from hunting. And he +would have found it an extremely difficult fact to explain. + +It all went back to those inner springs of motive that few men can see +clearly enough within themselves to recognize. Even the first day, when +he lay burning from his wounds, he worked out his own explanation in +regard to the murder mystery. He hadn't the slightest doubt but that +Cranston had killed Hildreth to prevent his testimony from reaching the +courts below. Of course any other member of the arson ring of hillmen +might have been the murderer; yet Dan was inclined to believe that +Cranston, the leader of the gang, usually preferred to do such dangerous +work as this himself. If it were true, somewhere on that tree-clad ridge +clues would be left. By a law that went down to the roots of life, he +knew, no action is so small but that it leaves its mark. Moreover, it +was wholly possible that the written testimony Hildreth must have +gathered had never been found or destroyed. Dan didn't want the aid of +the courts to find these clues. He wanted to work out the case himself. +It resolved itself into a simple matter of vengeance: Dan had his debt +to pay, and he wanted to bring Cranston to ruin by his own hand alone. + +While it was true that he took rather more than the casual interest that +most citizens feel in the destruction of the forest by wanton fire, and +had an actual sense of duty to do all that he could to stop the +activities of the arson ring, his motives, stripped and bare, were +really not utilitarian. He had no particular interest in Hildreth's +case. He remembered him simply as one of Cranston's disreputable gang, a +poacher and a fire bug himself. When all is said and done, it remained +really a personal issue between Dan and Cranston. And personal issues +are frowned upon by law and society. Civilization has toiled up from the +darkness in a great measure to get away from them. But human nature +remains distressingly the same, and Dan's desire to pay his debt was a +distinctly human emotion. Sometime a breed will live upon the earth that +can get clear away from personal vengeance--from that age-old code of +the hills that demands a blow for a blow and a life for a life--but the +time is not yet. And after all, by all the standards of men as men, not +as read in idealistic philosophies, Dan's debt was entirely real. By the +light held high by his ancestors, he could not turn his other cheek. + +Just as soon as he was able, he went back to the scene of the murder. He +didn't know when the snow would come to cover what evidence there was. +It threatened every hour. Every wind promised it. The air was sharp and +cold, and no drop of rain could fall through it without crystallizing +into snow. The deer had all gone, and the burrowing people had sought +their holes. The bees worked no more in the winter flowers. Of all the +greater forest creatures, only the wolves and the bear remained,--the +former because their fear of men would not permit them to go down to the +lower hills, and the latter because of his knowledge that when food +became scarce, he could always burrow in the snow. No bear goes into +hibernation from choice. Wise old bachelor, he much prefers to keep just +as late hours as he can--as long as the eating places in the berry +thickets remain open. The cougars had all gone down with the deer, the +migratory birds had departed, and even the squirrels were in hiding. + +The scene didn't offer much in the way of clues. Of the body itself, +only a white heap of bones remained; for many and terrible had been the +agents at work upon them. The clothes, however, particularly the coat, +were practically intact. Gripping himself, Dan thrust his fingers into +its pockets, then into the pockets of the shirt and trousers. All papers +that would in any way serve to identify the murdered man, or tell what +his purpose had been in journeying down the trail the night of the +murder had been removed. Only one explanation presented itself. Cranston +had come before him, and searched the body himself. + +Dan looked about for tracks, and he was considerably surprised to find +the blurred, indistinct imprint of a shoe other than his own. He hadn't +the least hope that the tracks themselves would offer a clue to a +detective. They were too dim for that. The surprising fact was that +since the murder had been committed immediately before the fall rains, +the water had not completely washed them out. The only possibility +remaining was that Cranston had returned to the body after the week's +rain-fall. The track had been dimmed by the lighter rains that had +fallen since. + +But yet it was entirely to be expected that the examination of the body +would be an after-thought on Cranston's part. Possibly at first his +only thought was to kill and, following the prompting that has sent so +many murderers to the gallows, he had afterwards returned to the scene +of the crime to destroy any clues he might have left and to search the +body for any evidence against the arson ring. + +Dan's next thought was to follow along the trail and find Cranston's +ambush. Of course it would be in the direction of the settlement from +the body, as the bullet had entered from the front. He found it hard to +believe that Hildreth had fallen in the exact spot where the body lay. +Men journeying at night keep to the trail, and the white heap itself was +fully forty feet back from the trail in the thickets. Perhaps Cranston +had dragged it there to hide it from the sight of any one who might pass +along the lonely trail again; and it was a remote possibility that +Whisperfoot, coming in the night, had tugged it into the thickets for +dreadful purposes of his own. Likely the shot was fired when Hildreth +was in an open place on the trail; and Dan searched for the ambush with +this conclusion in mind. He walked back, looking for a thicket from +which such a spot would be visible. Something over fifty yards down he +found it; and he knew it by the empty brass rifle cartridge that lay +half buried in the wet leaves. + +The shell was of the same caliber as Cranston's hunting rifle. Dan's +hand shook as he put it in his pocket. + +Encouraged by this amazing find, he turned up the trail toward +Hildreth's cabin. It might be possible, he thought, that Hildreth had +left some of his testimony--perhaps such rudely scrawled letters as +Cranston had written him--in some forgotten drawer in his hut. It was +but a short walk for Dan's hardened legs, and he made it before +mid-afternoon. + +The search itself was wholly without result. But because he had time to +think as he climbed the ridge, because as he strode along beneath that +wintry sky he had a chance to consider every detail of the case, he was +able to start out on a new tack when, just before sunset, he returned to +the body. This new train of thought had as its basis that Cranston's +shot had not been deadly at once; that wounded, Hildreth had himself +crawled into the thickets where Whisperfoot had found him. And that +meant that he had to enlarge his search for such documents as Hildreth +had carried to include all the territory between the trail and the +location of the body. + +It was possibly a distance of forty feet, and getting down on his hands +and knees, Dan looked for any break in the shrubbery that would +indicate the path that the wounded Hildreth had taken. And it was ten +minutes well rewarded, as far as clearing up certain details of the +crime. His senses had been trained and sharpened by his months in the +wilderness, and he was able to back-track the wounded man from the +skeleton clear to the clearing on the trail where he had first fallen. +But as no clues presented themselves, he started to turn home. + +He walked twelve feet, then turned back. Out of the corner of his eye it +seemed to him that he had caught a flash of white, near the end of a +great, dead log beside the path that the wounded Hildreth had taken. It +was to the credit of his mountain training alone that his eye had been +keen enough to detect it; that it had been so faithfully recorded on his +consciousness; and that, knowing at last the importance of details, he +had turned back. For a moment he searched in vain. Evidently a yellow +leaf had deceived him. Once more he retraced his steps, trying to find +the position from which his eye had caught the glimpse of white. Then he +dived straight for the rotten end of the log. + +Into a little hollow in the bark, on the underside of the log, some hand +had thrust a small roll of papers. They were rain soaked now, and the +ink had dimmed and blotted; but Dan realized their significance. They +were the complete evidence that Hildreth had accumulated against the +arson ring,--letters that had passed back and forth between himself and +Cranston, a threat of murder from the former if Hildreth turned State's +evidence, and a signed statement of the arson activities of the ring by +Hildreth himself. They were not only enough to break up the ring and +send its members to prison; with the aid of the empty shell and other +circumstantial evidence, they could in all probability convict Bert +Cranston of murder. + +For a long time he stood with the shadows of the pines lengthening about +him, his gray eyes in curious shadow. For the moment a glimpse was given +him into the deep wells of the human soul; and understanding came to +him. Was there no balm for hatred even in the moment of death? Were men +unable to forget the themes and motives of their lives, even when the +shadows closed down upon them? Hildreth had known what hand had struck +him down. And even on the frontier of death, his first thought was to +hide his evidence where Cranston could not find it when he searched the +body, but where later it might be found by the detectives that were sure +to come. It was the old creed of a life for a life. He wanted his +evidence to be preserved,--not that right should be wronged, but so that +Cranston would be prosecuted and convicted and made to suffer. His +hatred of Cranston that had made him turn State's evidence in the first +place had been carried with him down into death. + +As Dan stood wondering, he thought he heard a twig crack on the trail +behind him, and he wondered what forest creature was still lingering on +the ridges at the eve of the snows. + + + + +II + + +The snow began to fall in earnest at midnight,--great, white flakes that +almost in an instant covered the leaves. It was the real beginning of +winter, and all living creatures knew it. The wolf pack sang to it from +the ridge,--a wild and plaintive song that made Bert Cranston, sleeping +in a lean-to on the Umpqua side of the Divide, swear and mutter in his +sleep. But he didn't really waken until Jim Gibbs, one of his gang, +returned from his secret mission. + +They wasted no words. Bert flung aside the blankets, lighted a candle, +and placed it out of the reach of the night wind. It cast queer shadows +in the lean-to and found a curious reflection in the steel points of his +eyes. His face looked swarthy and deep-lined in its light. + +"Well?" he demanded. "What did you find?" + +"Nothin'," Jim Gibbs answered gutturally. "If you ask me what I found +_out_, I might have somethin' to answer." + +"Then--" and Bert, after the manner of his kind, breathed an oath--"what +did you find out?" + +His tone, except for an added note of savagery, remained the same. Yet +his heart was thumping a great deal louder than he liked to have it. He +wasn't amused by his associate's play on words. Nor did he like the +man's knowing tone and his air of importance. Realizing that the snows +were at hand, he had sent Gibbs for a last search of the body, to find +and recover the evidence that Hildreth had against him and which had not +been revealed either on Hildreth's person or in his cabin. He had become +increasingly apprehensive about those letters he had written Hildreth, +and certain other documents that had been in his possession. He didn't +understand why they hadn't turned up. And now the snows had started, and +Jim Gibbs had returned empty-handed, but evidently not empty-minded. + +"I've found out that the body's been uncovered--and men are already +searchin' for clues. And moreover--I think they've found them." He +paused, weighing the effect of his words. His eyes glittered with +cunning. Rat that he was, he was wondering whether the time had arrived +to leave the ship. He had no intention of continuing to give his +services to a man with a rope-noose closing about him. And Cranston, +knowing this fact, hated him as he hated the buzzard that would claim +him in the end and tried to hide his apprehension. + +"Go on. Blat it out," Cranston ordered. "Or else go away and let me +sleep." + +It was a bluff; but it worked. If Gibbs had gone without speaking, +Cranston would have known no sleep that night. But the man became more +fawning. + +"I'm tellin' you, fast as I can," he went on, almost whining. "I went to +the cabin, just as you said. But I didn't get a chance to search it--" + +"Why not?" Cranston thundered. His voice reechoed among the snow-wet +pines. + +"I'll tell you why! Because some one else--evidently a cop--was already +searchin' it. Both of us know there's nothin' there anyway. We've gone +over it too many times. After a while he went away--but I didn't turn +back yet. That wouldn't be Jim Gibbs. I shadowed him, just as you'd want +me to. And he went straight back to the body." + +"Yes?" Cranston had hard work curbing his impatience. Again Gibbs' eyes +were full of ominous speculations. + +"He stopped at the body, and it was plain he'd been there before. He +went crawling through the thickets, lookin' for clues. He done what you +and me never thought to do--lookin' all the way between the trail and +the body. He'd already found the brass shell you told me to get. At +least, it wasn't there when I looked, after he'd gone. You should've +thought of it before. But he found somethin' else a whole lot more +important--a roll of papers that Hildreth had chucked into an old pine +stump when he was dyin'. It was your fault, Cranston, for not gettin' +them that night. You needn't 've been afraid of any one hearin' the shot +and catching you red-handed. This detective stood and read 'em on the +trail. And you know--just as well as I do--what they were." + +"Damn you, I went back the next morning, as soon as I could see. And the +mountain lion had already been there. I went back lots of times since. +And that shell ain't nothing--but all the time I supposed I put it in my +pocket. You know how it is--a fellow throws his empty shell out by +habit." + +Gibbs' eyes grew more intent. What was this thing? Cranston's tone, +instead of commanding, was almost pleading. But the leader caught +himself at once. + +"I don't see why I need to explain any of that to you. What I want to +know is this: why you didn't shoot and get those papers away from him?" + +For an instant their eyes battled. But Gibbs had never the strength of +his leader. If he had, it would have been asserted long since. He sucked +in his breath, and his gaze fell away. It rested on Cranston's rifle, +that in some manner had been pulled up across his knees. And at once he +was cowed. He was never so fast with a gun as Cranston. + +"Blood on my hands, eh--same as on yours?" he mumbled, looking down. +"What do you think I want, a rope around my neck? These hills are big, +but the arm of the law has reached up before, and it might again. You +might as well know first as last I'm not goin' to do any killin's to +cover up your murders." + +"That comes of not going myself. You fool--if he gets that evidence down +to the courts, you're broken the same as me." + +"But I wouldn't get more'n a year or so, at most--and that's a heap +different from the gallows. I did aim at him--" + +"But you just lacked the guts to pull the trigger!" + +"I did, and I ain't ashamed of it. But besides--the snows are here now, +and he won't be able to even get word down to the valleys in six +months. If you want him killed so bad, do it yourself." + +This was a thought indeed. On the other hand, another murder might not +be necessary. Months would pass before the road would be opened, and in +the meantime Cranston could have a thousand chances to steal back the +accusing letters. Perhaps they would be guarded closely at first, but by +the late winter months they would be an old story, and a single raid on +the house might turn the trick. He didn't believe for an instant that +the man Gibbs had seen a detective. He had kept too close watch over the +roads for that. + +"A tall chap, in outing clothes--dark-haired and clean-shaven?" + +"Yes?" + +"Wears a tan hat?" + +"That's the man." + +"I know him--and I wish you'd punctured him. Why, you could've taken +those papers away from him and slapped his face, and he wouldn't have +put up his arms. And now he'll hide 'em somewhere--afraid to carry 'em +for fear he meets me. That's Failing--the tenderfoot that's been staying +at Lennox's. He's a lunger." + +"He didn't look like no lunger to me." + +"But no matter about that--it's just as I thought. And I'll get 'em +back--mark my little words." + +In the meantime the best thing to do was to move at once to his winter +trapping grounds,--a certain neglected region on the lower levels of the +North Fork. If at any time within the next few weeks, Dan should attempt +to carry word down to the settlements, he would be certain to pass +within view of this camp. But he knew that the chance of Dan starting +upon any such journey before the snow had melted was not one in a +thousand. To be caught in the Divide in the winter means to be snowed in +as completely as the Innuits of upper Greenland. No word could pass +except by a man on snowshoes. Really there was no urgency about this +matter of the evidence. + +Yet if the chance did come, if the house should be left unguarded, it +might play Cranston to make an immediate search. Dan would have no +reason for supposing that Cranston suspected his possession of the +letters; he would not be particularly watchful, and would probably +pigeonhole them until spring in Lennox's desk. + +And the truth was that Cranston had reasoned out the situation almost +perfectly. When Dan wakened in the morning, and the snow lay already a +foot deep over the wilderness world, he knew that he would have no +chance to act upon the Cranston case until the snows melted in the +spring. So he pushed all thought of it out of his mind and turned his +attention to more pleasant subjects. It was true that he read the +documents over twice as he lay in bed. Then he tied them into a neat +packet and put them away where they would be quickly available. Then he +thrust his head out of the window and let the great snowflakes sift down +upon his face. It was winter at last, the season that he loved. + +He didn't stir from the house, that first day of the storm. Snowbird and +he found plenty of pleasant things to do and talk about before the +roaring fire that he built in the grate. He was glad of the great pile +of wood that lay outside the door. It meant life itself, in this season. +Then Snowbird led him to the windows, and they watched the white drifts +pile up over the low underbrush. + +When finally the snowstorm ceased, five days later, the whole face of +the wilderness was changed. The buckbrush was mostly covered, the fences +were out of sight; the forest seemed a clear, clean sweep of white, +broken only by an occasional tall thicket and by the great, snow-covered +trees. + +When the clouds blew away, and the air grew clear, the temperature +began to fall. Dan had no way of knowing how low it went. Thermometers +were not considered essential at the Lennox home. But when his eyelids +congealed with the frost, and his mittens froze to the logs of firewood +that he carried through the door, and the pine trees exploded and +cracked in the darkness, he was correct in his belief that it was very, +very cold. + +But he loved the cold, and the silence and austerity that went with it. +The wilderness claimed him as never before. The rugged breed that were +his ancestors had struggled through such seasons as this and passed a +love of them down through the years to him. + +When the ice made a crust over the snow, he learned to walk on +snowshoes. At first there were pained ankles and endless floundering in +the drifts. But between the fall of fresh snow and the thaws that +softened the crust, he slowly mastered the art. Snowbird--and Dan never +realized the full significance of her name until he saw her flying with +incredible grace over the snow--laughed at him at first and ran him +races that would usually end in his falling head-first into a ten-foot +snowbank. She taught him how to ski and more than once she would stop in +the middle of an earnest bit of pedagogy to find that he wasn't +listening at all. He would seem to be fairly devouring her with his +eyes, delighting in the play of soft pinks and reds in her cheeks, and +drinking, as a man drinks wine, the amazing change of light and shadow +in her eyes. + +She seemed to blossom under his gaze. Not one of those short winter days +went by without the discovery of some new trait or little vanity to +astonish or delight him,--sometimes an unlooked-for tenderness toward +the weak, often a sweet, untainted philosophy of life, or perhaps just a +lowering of her eyelids in which her eyes would show lustrous through +the lashes, or some sweeping, exuberant gesture startlingly graceful. + +Lennox wakened one morning with the realization that this was one of the +hardest winters of his experience. More snow had fallen in the night and +had banked halfway up his windows. The last of the shrubbery--except for +the ends of a few tall bushes that would not hold the snow--was covered, +and the roofs of some of the lower outbuildings had somewhat the +impression of drowning things, striving desperately to keep their heads +above water. He began to be very glad of the abundant stores of +provisions that overcrowded his pantry--savory hams and bacons, dried +venison, sacks of potatoes and evaporated vegetables, and, of course, +canned goods past counting. With the high fire roaring in the grate, the +season held no ills for them. But sometimes, when the bitter cold came +down at twilight, and the moon looked like a thing of ice itself over +the snow, he began to wonder how the wild creatures who wintered on the +Divide were faring. Of course most of them were gone. Woof, long since, +had grunted and mumbled his way into a winter lair. But the wolves +remained, strange gray shadows on the snow, and possibly a few of the +hardier smaller creatures. + +More than once in those long winter nights their talk was chopped off +short by the song of the pack on some distant ridge. Sometime, when the +world is old, possibly a man will be born that can continue to talk and +keep his mind on his words while the wolf pack sings. But he is +certainly an unknown quantity to-day. The cry sets in vibration curious +memory chords, and for a moment the listener sees in his mind's eye his +ancient home in an ancient world,--Darkness and Fear and Eyes shining +about the cave. It carries him back, and he knows the wilderness as it +really is; and to have such knowledge dries up all inclination to talk, +as a sponge dries water. Of course the picture isn't entirely plain. It +is more a thing guessed at, a photograph in some dark part of an +under-consciousness that has constantly grown more dim as the centuries +have passed. Possibly sometime it will fade out altogether; and then a +man may continue to discuss the weather while the Song from the ridge +shudders in at the windows. But the world will be quite cold by then, +and no longer particularly interesting. And possibly even the wolves +themselves will then be tamed to play dead and speak pieces,--which +means the wilderness itself will be tamed. For as long as the wild +lasts, the pack will run through it in the winter. They were here in the +beginning, and in spite of constant war and constant hatred on the part +of men, they will be here in the end. The reason is just that they are +the symbol of the wilderness itself, and the idea of it continuing to +exist without them is stranger than that of a nation without a flag. + +It wasn't quite the same song that Dan had listened to in the first days +of fall. It had been triumphant then, and proud with the wilderness +pride. Of course it had been sad then, too, but it was more sad now. And +it was stranger, too, and crept farther into the souls of its listeners. +It was the song of strength that couldn't avail against the snow, +possibly of cold and the despair and courage of starvation. These three +that heard it were inured to the wilderness; but a moment was always +needed after its last note had died to regain their gayety. + +"They're getting lean and they're getting savage," Lennox said one +night, stretched on his divan before the fireplace. He was still unable +to walk; but the fractures were knitting slowly and the doctor had +promised that the summer would find him well. "If we had a dog, I +wouldn't offer much for his life. One of these days we'll find 'em in a +big circle around the house--and then we'll have to open up with the +rifles." + +But this picture appalled neither of his two young listeners. No wolf +pack can stand against three marksmen, armed with rifles and behind +oaken walls. + +Christmas came and passed, and January brought clear days and an +ineffective sun shining on the snow. These were the best days of all. +Every afternoon Dan and Snowbird would go out on their skis or on +snowshoes, unarmed except for the pistol that Snowbird carried in the +deep pocket of her mackinaw. "But why not?" Dan replied to Lennox's +objection. "She could kill five wolves with five shots, or pretty near +it, and you know well enough that that would hold 'em off till we got +home. They'd stop to eat the five. I have hard enough time keeping up +with her as it is, without carrying a rifle." And Lennox was content. +In the first place, the wolf pack has to be desperate indeed before it +will even threaten human beings; and knowing the coward that the wolf is +in the other three seasons, he couldn't bring himself to believe that +this point was reached. In the second, Dan had told the truth when he +said that five deaths, or even fewer, would repel the attack of any wolf +pack he had ever seen. There was just one troubling thought. He had +heard, long ago, and he had forgotten who had told him, that in the most +severe winters the wolves gather in particularly large packs; and a +quality in the song that they had heard at night seemed to bear it out. +The chorus had been exceptionally loud and strong, and he had been +unable to pick out individual voices. + +The snow was perfect for skiing. Previously their sport had been many +times interrupted either by the fall of fresh snow or a thaw that had +softened the snow crust; but now every afternoon was too perfect to +remain indoors. They shouted and romped in the silences, and they did +not dream but that they had the wilderness all to themselves. The fact +that one night Lennox's keen eyes had seen what looked like the glow of +a camp fire in the distance didn't affect this belief of theirs at all. +It was evidently just the phosphorus glowing in a rotten log from which +the winds had blown the snow. + +Once or twice they caught glimpses of wild life: once a grouse that had +buried in the snow flushed from their path and blew the snow-dust from +its wings; and once or twice they saw snowshoe rabbits bounding away on +flat feet over the drifts. But just one day they caught sight of a wolf. +They were on snowshoes on a particularly brilliant afternoon late in +January. + +He was a lone male, evidently a straggler from the pack, and he leaped +from the top of a tall thicket that had remained above the snow. The man +and the girl had entirely different reactions. Dan's first impression +was amazement at the animal's condition. It seemed to be in the last +stages of starvation: unbelievably gaunt, with rib bones showing plainly +even through the furry hide. Ordinarily the heavily furred animals do +not show signs of famine; but even an inexperienced eye could not make a +mistake in this case. The eyes were red, and they carried Dan back to +his first adventure in the Oregon forest--the day he had shot the mad +coyote. Snowbird thought of the beast only as an enemy. The wolves +killed her father's stock; they were brigands of the worst order; and +she shared the hatred of them that is a common trait of all primitive +peoples. Her hand whipped back, seized her pistol, and she fired twice +at the fleeing figure. + +The second shot was a hit: both of them saw the wolf go to its side, +then spring up and race on. Shouting, both of them sped after him. + +In a few moments he was out of sight among the distant trees, but they +found the blood-trail and mushed over the ridge. They expected at any +moment to find him lying dead; but the track led them on clear down the +next canyon. And now they cared not at all whether they found him: it +was simply a tramp in the out-of-doors; and both of them were young with +red blood in their veins. + +But all at once Dan stopped in his tracks. The girl sped on for six +paces before she missed the sound of his snowshoes; then she turned to +find him standing, wholly motionless, with eyes fixed upon her. + +It startled her, and she didn't know why. A companion abruptly freezing +in his path, his muscles inert, and his eyes filling with speculations +is always startling. When this occurs, it means simply that a thought so +compelling and engrossing that even the half-unconscious physical +functions, such as walking, cannot continue, has come into his mind. And +it is part of the old creed of self-preservation to dislike greatly to +be left out on any such thought as this. If danger is present, the +sooner it is identified the better. + +"What is it?" she demanded. + +He turned to her, curiously intent. "How many shells have you in that +pistol?" + +She took one breath and answered him. "It holds five, and I shot twice. +I haven't any others." + +"And I don't suppose it ever occurred to you to carry extra ones in your +pocket?" + +"Father is always telling me to--and several times I have. But I'd shoot +them away at target practice and forget to take any more. There was +never any danger--except that night with a cougar. I did intend to--but +what does it matter now?" + +"We're a couple of wise ones, going after that wolf with only three +shots to our name. Of course by himself he's harmless--but he's likely +enough to lead us straight toward the pack. And Snowbird--I didn't like +his looks. He's too gaunt, and he's too hungry--and I haven't a bit of +doubt he waited in that brush for us to come, intending to attack +us--and lost his nerve the last thing. That shows he's desperate. I +don't like him, and I wouldn't like his pack. And a whole pack might not +lose _its_ nerve." + +"Then you think we'd better turn back?" + +"Yes, I do, and not come out any more without a whole pocket of shells. +I'm going to carry my rifle, too, just as Lennox has always advised. +He's only got a flesh-wound. You saw what you did with two +cartridges--got in one flesh-wound. Three of 'em against a pack wouldn't +be a great deal of aid. I don't mean to say you can't shoot, but a +jumping, lively wolf is worse than a bird in the air. We've gone over +three miles; and he'd lead us ten miles farther--even if he didn't go to +the pack. Let's go back." + +"If you say so. But I don't think there's the least bit of danger. We +can always climb a tree." + +"And have 'em make a beautiful circle under it! They've got more +patience than we have--and we'd have to come down sometime. Your father +can't come to our help, you know. It's the sign of the tenderfoot not to +think there's any danger--and I'm not going to think that way any more." + +They turned back and mushed in silence a long time. + +"I suppose you'll think I'm a coward," Dan asked her humbly. + +"Only prudent, Dan," she answered, smiling. Whether she meant it, he did +not know. "I'm just beginning to understand that you--living here only a +few months--really know and understand all this better than I do." She +stretched her arms wide to the wilderness. "I guess it's your +instincts." + +"And I do understand," he told her earnestly. "I sensed danger back +there just as sure as I can see your face. That pack--and it's a big +one--is close; and it's terribly hungry. And you know--you can't help +but know--that the wolves are not to be trusted in famine times." + +"I know it only too well," she said. + +Then she paused and asked him about a strange grayness, like snow blown +by the wind, on the sky over the ridge. + + + + +III + + +Bert Cranston waited in a clump of exposed thicket on the hillside until +he saw two black dots, that he knew were Dan and Snowbird, leave the +Lennox home. He lay very still as they circled up the ridge, noticing +that except for the pistol that he knew Snowbird always carried, they +were unarmed. There was no particular reason why he should be interested +in that point. It was just the mountain way always to look for weapons, +and it is rather difficult to trace the mental processes behind this +impulse. Perhaps it can be laid to the fact that many mountain families +are often at feud with one another, and anything in the way of violence +may happen before the morning. + +The two passed out of his sight, and after a long time he heard the +crack of Snowbird's pistol. He guessed that she had either shot at some +wild creature, or else was merely at target practice,--rather a common +proceeding for the two when they were on the hills together. Thus it is +to be seen that Cranston knew their habits fairly well. And since he had +kept a close watch upon them for several days, this was to be expected. + +He had no intention of being interrupted in this work he was about to +do. He had planned it all very well. At first the intermittent +snow-storms and the thaws between had delayed him. He needed a perfect +snow crust for the long tramp over the ridge; and at last the bright +days and the icy dawns had made it. The elder Lennox was still helpless. +He had noticed that when Dan and Snowbird went out, they were usually +gone from two to four hours; and that gave him plenty of time for his +undertaking. The moment had come at last to make a thorough search of +Lennox's house for those incriminating documents that Dan had found near +the body of Landy Hildreth. + +The only really dangerous part of his undertaking was his approach. If +by any chance Lennox were looking out of the window, he might be found +waiting with a rifle across his arms. It would be quite like the old +mountaineer to have his gun beside him, and to shoot it quick and +exceptionally straight, without asking questions, at any stealing figure +in the snow. Yet Cranston felt fairly sure that Lennox was still too +helpless to raise a gun to a shooting position. + +He had observed that the mountaineer spent his time either on the +fireplace divan or on his own bed. Neither of these places was available +to the rear windows of the house. So, very wisely, he made his attack +from the rear. + +He came stealing across the snow,--a musher of the first degree. Very +silently and swiftly he slipped off his snowshoes at the door. The door +itself was unlocked, just as he had supposed. In an instant more he was +tiptoeing, a dark, silent figure, through the corridors of the house. He +held his rifle ready in his hands. + +He peered into Lennox's bedroom first. The room was unoccupied. Then the +floor of the corridor creaked beneath his step; and he knew nothing +further was to be gained by waiting. If Lennox suspected his presence, +he might be waiting with aimed rifle as he opened the door of the living +room. + +He glided faster. He halted once more,--a moment at the living-room door +to see if Lennox had been disturbed. He was lying still, however, so +Cranston pushed through. + +Lennox glanced up from his magazine to find that unmistakable thing, the +barrel of a rifle, pointed at his breast. Cranston was one of those +rare marksmen who shoots with both eyes open,--and that meant that he +kept his full visual powers to the last instant before the hammer fell. + +"I can't raise my arms," Lennox said simply. "One of 'em won't work at +all--besides, against the doctor's orders." + +Cranston stole over toward him, looking closely for weapons. He pulled +aside the woolen blanket that Lennox had drawn up over his body, and he +pushed his hand into the cushions of the couch. A few deft pats, holding +his rifle through the fork of his arm, finger coiled into the trigger +guard, assured him that Lennox was not "heeled" at all. Then he laughed +and went to work. + +"I thought I told you once," Lennox began with perfect coldness, "that +the doors of my house were no longer open to you." + +"You did say that," was Cranston's guttural reply. "But you see I'm here +just the same, don't you? And what are you going to do about it?" + +"I probably felt that sooner or later you would come to steal--just as +you and your crowd stole the supplies from the forest station last +winter--and that probably influenced me to give the orders. I didn't +want thieves around my house, and I don't want them now. I don't want +coyotes, either." + +"And I don't want any such remarks out of you, either," Cranston +answered him. "You lie still and shut up, and I suspect that sissy +boarder of yours will come back, after he's through embracing your +daughter in the snow, and find you in one piece. Otherwise not." + +"If I were in one piece," Lennox answered him very quietly, "instead of +a bundle of broken bones that can't lift its arms, I'd get up off this +couch, unarmed as I am, and stamp on your lying lips." + +But Cranston only laughed and tied Lennox's feet with a cord from the +window shade. + + * * * * * + +He went to work very systematically. First he rifled Lennox's desk in +the living room. Then he looked on all the mantels and ransacked the +cupboards and the drawers. He was taunting and calm at first. But as the +moments passed, his passion grew upon him. He no longer smiled. The +rodent features became intent; the eyes narrowed to curious, bright +slits under the dark lashes. He went to Dan's room, searched his bureau +drawer and all the pockets of the clothes hanging in his closet. He +upset his trunk and pawed among old letters in the suitcase. Then, +stealing like some creature of the wilderness, he came back to the +living room. + +Lennox was not on the divan where he had left him. He lay instead on the +floor near the fireplace; and he met the passion-drawn face with entire +calmness. His motives were perfectly plain. He had just made a desperate +effort to procure Dan's rifle that hung on two sets of deer horns over +the fireplace, and was entirely exhausted from it. He had succeeded in +getting down from the couch, though wracked by agony, but had been +unable to lift himself up in reach of the gun. + +Cranston read his intention in one glance. Lennox knew it, but he simply +didn't care. He had passed the point where anything seemed to matter. + +"Tell me where it is," Cranston ordered him. Again he pointed his rifle +at Lennox's wasted breast. + +"Tell you where what is? My money?" + +"You know what I want--and it isn't money. I mean those letters that +Failing found on the ridge. I'm through fooling, Lennox. Dan learned +that long ago, and it's time you learned it now." + +"Dan learned it because he was sick. He isn't sick now. Don't presume +too much on that." + +Cranston laughed with harsh scorn. "But that isn't the question. I said +I've wasted all the time I'm going to. You are an old man and helpless; +but I'm not going to let that stand in the way of getting what I came to +get. They're hidden somewhere around this house. They wouldn't be out in +the snow, because he'd want 'em where he could get them. By no means +would he carry them on his person--fearing that some day he'd meet me on +the ridge. He's a fool, but he ain't that much of a fool. I've watched, +and he's had no chance to take them into town. I'll give you--just five +seconds to tell me where they're hidden." + +"And I give you," Lennox replied, "one second less than that--to go to +Hell!" + +Both of them breathed hard in the quiet room. Cranston was trembling +now, shivering just a little in his arms and shoulders. "Don't get me +wrong, Lennox," he warned. + +"And don't have any delusions in regard to me, either," Lennox replied. +"I've stood worse pain, from this accident, than any man can give me +while I yet live, no matter what he does. If you want to get on me and +hammer me in the approved Cranston way, I can't defend myself--but you +won't get a civil answer out of me. I'm used to pain, and I can stand +it. I'm not used to fawning to a coyote like you, and I can't stand it." + +But Cranston hardly heard. An idea had flamed in his mind and cast a red +glamour over all the scene about him. It was instilling a poison in his +nerves and a madness in his blood, and it was searing him, like fire, in +his dark brain. Nothing seemed real. He suddenly bent forward, tense. + +"That's all right about you," he said. "But you'd be a little more +polite if it was Snowbird--and Dan--that would have to pay." + +Perhaps the color faded slightly in Lennox's face; but his voice did not +change. + +"They'll see your footprints before they come in and be ready," Lennox +replied evenly. "They always come by the back way. And even with a +pistol, Snowbird's a match for you." + +"Did you think that was what I meant?" Cranston scorned. "I know a way +to destroy those letters, and I'll do it--in the four seconds that I +said, unless you tell. I'm not even sure I'm goin' to give you a chance +to tell now; it's too good a scheme. There won't be any witnesses then +to yell around in the courts. What if I choose to set fire to this +house?" + +"It wouldn't surprise me a great deal. It's your own trade." Lennox +shuddered once on his place on the floor. + +"I wouldn't have to worry about those letters then, would I? They are +somewhere in the house, and they'd be burned to ashes. But that isn't +all that would be burned. You could maybe crawl out, but you couldn't +carry the guns, and you couldn't carry the pantry full of food. You're +nearly eighty miles up here from the nearest occupied house, with two +pair of snowshoes for the three of you and one dinky pistol. And you +can't walk at all. It would be a nice pickle, wouldn't it? Wouldn't you +have a fat chance of getting down to civilization?" + +The voice no longer held steady. It trembled with passion. This was no +idle threat. The brain had already seized upon the scheme with every +intention of carrying it out. Outside the snow glittered in the +sunlight, and pine limbs bowed with their load; overhung with that +curious winter silence that, once felt, returns often in dreams. The +wilderness lay stark and bare, stripped of all delusion--not only in the +snow world outside but in the hearts of these two men, its sons. + +"I have only one hope," Lennox replied. "I hope, unknown to me, that Dan +has already dispatched those letters. The arm of the law is long, +Cranston. It's easy to forget that fact up here. It will reach you in +the end." + +Cranston turned through the door, into the kitchen. He was gone a long +time. Lennox heard him at work: the crinkle of paper and then a pouring +sound around the walls. Then he heard the sharp crack of a match. An +instant later the first wisp of smoke came curling, pungent with burning +oil, through the corridor. + +"You crawled from your couch to reach that gun," Cranston told him when +he came in. "Let's see you crawl out now." + +Lennox's answer was a curse,--the last, dread outpouring of an unbroken +will. He didn't look again at the glittering eyes. He scarcely watched +Cranston's further preparations: the oil poured on the rugs and +furnishings, the kindling placed at the base of the curtains. Cranston +was trained in this work. He was taking no chances on the fire being +extinguished. And Lennox began to crawl toward the door. + +He managed to grasp the corner of the blanket on the divan as he went, +and he dragged it behind him. Pain wracked him, and smoke half-blinded +him. But he made it at last. And by the time he had crawled one hundred +feet over the snow crust, the whole structure was in flames. The red +tongues spoke with a roar. + +Cranston, the fire-madness on his face, hurried to the outbuildings. +There he repeated the work. He touched a match to the hay in the barn, +and the wind flung the flame through it in an instant. The sheds and +other outbuildings were treated with oil. And seeing that his work was +done, he called once to the prone body of Lennox on the snow and mushed +away into the silences. + +Lennox's answer was not a curse this time. Rather it was a prayer, +unuttered, and in his long years Lennox had not prayed often. When he +prayed at all, the words were burning fire. His prayer was that of +Samson,--that for a moment his strength might come back to him. + + + + +IV + + +Two miles across the ridges, Dan and Snowbird saw a faint mist blowing +between the trees. They didn't recognize it at first. It might be fine +snow, blown by the wind, or even one of those mysterious fogs that +sometimes sweep over the snow. + +"But it looks like smoke," Snowbird said. + +"But it couldn't be. The trees are too wet to burn." + +But then a sound that at first was just the faintest whisper in which +neither of them would let themselves believe, became distinct past all +denying. It was that menacing crackle of a great fire, that in the whole +world of sounds is perhaps the most terrible. They were trained by the +hills, and neither of them tried to mince words. They had learned to +face the truth, and they faced it now. + +"It's our house," Snowbird told him. "And father can't get out." + +She spoke very quietly. Perhaps the most terrible truths of life are +always spoken in that same quiet voice. Then both of them started across +the snow, fast as their unwieldy snowshoes would permit. + +"He can crawl a little," Dan called to her. "Don't give up, Snowbird +mine. I think he'll be safe." + +They mounted to the top of the ridge; and the long sweep of the forest +was revealed to them. The house was a singular tall pillar of flame, +already glowing that dreadful red from which firemen, despairing, turn +away. Then the girl seized his hands and danced about him in a mad +circle. + +"He's alive," she cried. "You can see him--just a dot on the snow. He +crawled out to safety." + +She turned and sped at a breakneck pace down the ridge. Dan had to race +to keep up with her. But it wasn't entirely wise to try to mush so fast. +A dead log lay beneath the snow with a broken limb stretched almost to +its surface, and it caught her snowshoe. The wood cracked sharply, and +she fell forward in the snow. But she wasn't hurt, and the snowshoe +itself, in spite of a small crack in the wood, was still serviceable. + +"Haste makes waste," he told her. "Keep your feet on the ground, +Snowbird; the house is gone already and your father is safe. Remember +what lies before us." + +The thought sobered and halted her. She glanced once at the dark face of +her companion. Dan couldn't understand the strange light that suddenly +leaped to her eyes. Perhaps she herself couldn't have explained the wave +of tenderness that swept over her,--with no cause except the look in +Dan's earnest gray eyes and the lines that cut so deep. Since the world +was new, it has been the boast of the boldest of men that they looked +their Fate in the face. And this is no mean looking. For fate is a sword +from the darkness, a power that reaches out of the mystery, and cannot +be classed with sights of human origin. It burns out the eyes of all but +the strongest men. Yet Dan was looking at his fate now, and his eyes +held straight. + +They walked together down to the ruined house, and the three of them sat +silent while the fire burned red. Then Lennox turned to them with a +half-smile. + +"You're wasting time, you two," he said. "Remember all our food is gone. +If you start now, and walk hard, maybe you can make it out." + +"There are several things to do first," Dan answered simply. + +"I don't know what they are. It isn't going to be any picnic, Dan. A man +can travel only so far without food to keep up his strength, +particularly over such ridges as you have to cross. It will be easy to +give up and die. It's the test, man; it's the test." + +"And what about you?" his daughter asked. + +"Oh, I'll be all right. Besides--it's the only thing that can be done. I +can't walk, and you can't carry me on your backs. What else remains? +I'll stay here--and I'll scrape together enough wood to keep a fire. +Then you can bring help." + +He kept his eyes averted when he talked. He was afraid for Dan to see +them, knowing that he could read the lie in them. + +"How do you expect to find wood--in this snow?" Dan asked him. "It will +take four days to get out; do you think you could lie here and battle +with a fire for four days, and then four days more that it will take to +come back? You'd have two choices: to burn green wood that I'd cut for +you before I left, or the rain-soaked dead wood under the snow. You +couldn't keep either one of them burning, and you'd die in a night. +Besides--this is no time for an unarmed man to be alone in the hills." + +Lennox's voice grew pleading. "Be sensible, Dan!" he cried. "That +Cranston's got us, and got us right. I've only one thing more I care +about--and that is that you pay the debt! I can't hope to get out +myself. I say that I can't even hope to. But if you bring my daughter +through--and when the spring comes, pay what we owe to Cranston--I'll be +content. Heavens, son--I've lived my life. The old pack leader dies when +his time comes, and so does a man." + +His daughter crept to him and sheltered his gray head against her +breast. "I'll stay with you then," she cried. + +"Don't be a little fool, Snowbird," he urged. "My clothes are wet +already from the melted snow. It's too long a way--it will be too hard a +fight, and children--I'm old and tired out. I don't want to make the +try--hunger and cold; and even if you'd stay here and grub wood, +Snowbird, they'd find us both dead when they came back in a week. We +can't live without food, and work and keep warm--and there isn't a +living creature in the hills." + +"Except the wolves," Dan reminded him. + +"Except the wolves," Lennox echoed. "Remember, we're unarmed--and they'd +find it out. You're young, Snowbird, and so is Dan--and you two will be +happy. I know how things are, you two--more than you know +yourselves--and in the end you'll be happy. But me--I'm too tired to +make the try. I don't care about it enough. I'm going to wave you +good-by, and smile, and lie here and let the cold come down. You feel +warm in a little while--" + +But she stopped his lips with her hand. And he bent and kissed it. + +"If anybody's going to stay with you," Dan told them in a clear, firm +voice, "it's going to be me. But aren't any of the cabins occupied?" + +"You know they aren't," Lennox answered. "Not even the houses beyond the +North Fork, even if we could get across. The nearest help is over +seventy miles." + +"And Snowbird, think! Haven't any supplies been left in the ranger +station?" + +"Not one thing," the girl told him. "You know Cranston and his crowd +robbed the place last winter. And the telephone lines were disconnected +when the rangers left." + +"Then the only way is for me to stay here. You can take the pistol, and +you'll have a fair chance of getting through. I'll grub wood for our +camp meanwhile, and you can bring help." + +"And if the wolves come, or if help didn't come in time," Lennox +whispered, passion-drawn for the first time, "who would pay what we owe +to Cranston?" + +"But her life counts--first of all." + +"I know it does--but mine doesn't count at all. Believe me, you two. I'm +speaking from my own desires when I say I don't want to make the fight. +Snowbird would never make it through alone. There are the wolves, and +maybe Cranston too--the worst wolf of all. A woman can't mush across +those ridges four days without food, without some one who loves her and +forces her on! Neither can she stay here with me and try to make green +branches burn in a fire. She's got three little pistol balls--and we'd +all die for a whim. Oh, please, please--" + +But Dan leaped for his hand with glowing eyes. "Listen, man!" he cried. +"I know another way yet. I know more than one way; but one, if we've got +the strength, is almost sure. There is an ax in the kitchen, and the +blade will still be good." + +"Likely dulled with the fire--" + +"I'll cut a limb with my jackknife for the handle. There will be nails +in the ashes, plenty of them. We'll make a rude sledge, and we'll get +you out too." + +Lennox seemed to be studying his wasted hands. "It's a chance, but it +isn't worth it," he said at last. "You'll have fight enough, without +tugging at a heavy sled. It will take all night to build it, and it +would cut down your chances of getting out by pretty near half. Remember +the ridges, Dan--" + +"But we'll climb every ridge--besides, its a slow, down grade most of +the way. Snowbird--tell him he must do it." + +Snowbird told him, overpowering him with her enthusiasm. And Dan shook +his shoulders with rough hands. "You're hurting, boy!" Lennox warned. +"I'm a bag of broken bones." + +"I'll tote you down there if I have to tie you in," Dan Failing replied. +"Before, I've bowed to your will; but this time you have to bow to mine. +I'm not going to let you stay here and die, no matter if you beg on your +knees! It's the test--and I'm going to bring you through." + +He meant what he said. If mortal strength and sinew could survive such a +test, he would succeed. There was nothing in these words to suggest the +physical weakling that both of them had known a few months before. The +eyes were earnest, the dark face intent, the determined voice did not +waver at all. + +"Dan Failing speaks!" Lennox replied with glowing eyes. He was recalling +another Dan Failing of the dead years, a boyhood hero, and his +remembered voice had never been more determined, more masterful than +this he had just heard. + +"And Cranston didn't get his purpose, after all." To prove his words, +Dan thrust his hand into his inner coat pocket. He drew forth a little, +flat package, half as thick as a pack of cards. He held it up for them +to see. "The thing Bert Cranston burned the house down to destroy," he +explained. "I'm learning to know this mountain breed, Lennox. I kept it +in my pocket where I could fight for it, at any minute." + +Cranston had been mistaken, after all, in thinking that in fear of +himself Dan would be afraid to keep the packet on his person, and would +cravenly conceal it in the house. He would have been even more surprised +to know that Dan had lived in constant hope of meeting Cranston on the +ridges, showing him what it contained, and fighting him for it, hands to +hands. And even yet, perhaps the day would come when Cranston would know +at last that Snowbird's words, after the fight of long ago, were true. + +The twilight was falling over the snow, so Snowbird and Dan turned to +the toil of building a sled. + + + + +V + + +The snow was steel-gray in the moonlight when the little party made +their start down the long trail. Their preparations, simple and crude as +they were, had taken hours of ceaseless labor on the part of the three. +The ax, its edge dulled by the flame and its handle burned away, had +been cooled in the snow, and with his one sound arm, Lennox had driven +the hot nails that Snowbird gathered from the ashes of one of the +outbuildings. The embers of the house itself still glowed red in the +darkness. + +Dan had cut the green limbs of the trees and planed them with his ax. +The sled had been completed, handles attached for pushing it, and a +piece of fence wire fastened with nails as a rope to pull it. The warm +mackinaws of both of them as well as the one blanket that Lennox had +saved from the fire were wrapped about the old frontiersman's wasted +body,--Dan and Snowbird hoping to keep warm by the exercise of +propelling the sled. Except for the dull ax and the half-empty pistol, +their only equipment was a single charred pot for melting snow that Dan +had recovered from the ashes of the kitchen. + +The three had worked almost in silence. Words didn't help now. They +wasted no sorely-needed breath. But they did have one minute of talk +when they got to the top of the little ridge that had overlooked the +house. + +"We'll travel mostly at night," Dan told them. "We can see in the snow, +and by taking our rest in the daytime, when the sun is bright and warm, +we can save our strength. We won't have to keep such big fires then--and +at night our exertion will keep us as warm as we can hope for. Getting +up all night to cut green wood with this dull ax in the snow would break +us to pieces very soon, for remember that we haven't any food. I know +how to build a fire even in the snow--especially if I can find the dead, +dry heart of a rotten log--but it isn't any fun to keep it going with +green wood. We don't want to have to spend any more of our strength +stripping off wet bark and hacking at saplings than we can help; and +that means we'd better do our resting in the heat of the day. After all, +it's a fight against starvation more than anything else." + +"Just think," the girl told them, reproaching herself, "if I'd just shot +straight at that wolf to-day, we could have gone back and got his body. +It might have carried us through." + +Neither of the others as much as looked surprised at these amazing +regrets over the lost, unsavory flesh of a wolf. They were up against +realities, and they didn't mince words. Dan smiled at her gently, and +his great shoulder leaned against the traces. + +They moved through a dead world. The ever-present manifestations of wild +life that had been such a delight to Dan in the summer and fall were +quite lacking now. The snow was trackless. Once they thought they saw a +snowshoe rabbit, a strange shadow on the snow, but he was too far away +for Snowbird to risk a pistol shot. The pound or two of flesh would be +sorely needed before the journey was over, but the pistol cartridges +might be needed still more. She didn't let her mind rest on certain +possibilities wherein they might be needed. Such thoughts stole the +courage from the spirit, and courage was essential beyond all things +else to bring them through. + +Once a flock of wild geese, stragglers from the main army of waterfowl, +passed overhead on their southern migration. They were many months too +late. They called down their eerie cries,--that song that they had +learned from the noise the wind makes, blowing over the bleak marshes. +It wailed down to them a long time after the flock was hidden by the +distant tree tops, and seemed to shiver, with curious echoes, among the +pines. Trudging on, they listened to its last note. And possibly they +understood the cry as never before. It was one of the untamed, primitive +voices of the wilderness, and they could realize something of its +sadness, its infinite yearning and complaint. They knew the wilderness +now, just as the geese themselves did. They knew its cold, its hunger, +its remorselessness, and beyond all, the fear that was bright eyes in +the darkness. No man could have crossed that first twenty miles with +them and remained a tenderfoot. The wild was sending home its lessons, +one after another, until the spirit broke beneath them. It was showing +its teeth. It was reminding them, very clearly, that in spite of houses +built on the ridges and cattle pens and rifles and all the tools and +aids of civilization, it was still unconquered. + +Mostly the forest was heavily laden with silence. And silence, in this +case, didn't seem to be merely an absence of sound. It seemed like a +substance in itself, something that lay over the snow, in which all +sound was immediately smothered and extinguished. They heard their own +footfalls in the snow and the crunch of the sled. But the sound only +went a little way. Once in a long time distant trees cracked in the +frost; and they all stood still a moment, trying to fight down the vain +hope that this might be some hunter from the valleys who would come to +their aid. A few times they heard the snow sliding, with the dull sound +of rolling window shade, down from the overburdened limbs. The trees +were inert with their load of snow. + +As the dawn came out, they all stood still and listened to the wolf +pack, singing on the ridge somewhere behind them. It was a large pack. +They couldn't make out individual voices,--neither the more shrill cry +of the females, the yapping of the cubs, or the low, clear +G-below-middle-C note of the males. + +"If they should cross our tracks--" Lennox suggested. + +"No use worrying about that now--not until we come to it," Dan told him. + +The morning broke, the sun rose bright in a clear sky. But still they +trudged on. In spite of the fact that the sled was heavy and broke +through the snow crust as they tugged at it, they had made good time +since their departure. But now every step was a pronounced effort. It +was the dreadful beginning of fatigue that only food and warmth and rest +could rectify. + +"We'll rest now," Dan told them at ten o'clock. "The sun is warm enough +so that we won't need much of a fire. And we'll try to get five hours' +sleep." + +"Too long, if we're going to make it out," Lennox objected. + +"That leaves a work-day of nineteen hours," Dan persisted. "Not any too +little. Five hours it will be." + +He found where the snow had drifted against a great, dead log, leaving +the white covering only a foot in depth on the lee side. He began to +scrape the snow away, then hacked at the log with his ax until he had +procured a piece of comparatively dry wood from its center. They all +stood breathless while he lighted the little pile of kindling and heaped +it with green wood,--the only wood procurable. But it didn't burn +freely. It smoked fitfully, threatening to die out, and emitting very +little heat. + +But they didn't particularly care. The sun was warm above, as always in +the mountain winters of Southern Oregon. Snowbird and Dan cleared spaces +beside the fire and slept. Lennox, who had rested on the journey, lay on +his sled and with his uninjured arm tried to hack enough wood from the +saplings that Dan had cut to keep the fire burning. + +At three they got up, still tired and aching in their bones from +exposure. Twenty-four hours had passed since they had tasted food, and +their unreplenished systems complained. There is no better engine in the +wide world than the human body. It will stand more neglect and abuse +than the finest steel motors ever made by the hands of European +craftsmen. A man may fast many days if he lies quietly in one place and +keeps warm. But fasting is a deadly proposition while pulling sledges +over the snow. + +Dan was less hopeful now. His face told what his words did not. The +lines cleft deeper about his lips and eyes; and Snowbird's heart ached +when he tried to encourage her with a smile. It was a wan, strange smile +that couldn't quite hide the first sickness of despair. + +The shadows quickly lengthened--simply leaping over the snow from the +fast-falling sun. Soon it dropped down behind the ridge; and the gray of +twilight began to deepen among the more distant trees. It blurred the +outline and dulled the sight. With the twilight came the cold, first +crisp, then bitter and penetrating to the vitals. The twilight deepened, +the snow turned gray, and then, in a vague way, the journey began to +partake of a quality of unreality. It was not that the cold and the +snow and their hunger were not entirely real, or that the wilderness +was no longer naked to their eyes. It was just that their whole effort +seemed like some dreadful, emburdened journey in a dream,--a stumbling +advance under difficulties too many and real to be true. + +The first sign was the far-off cry of the wolf pack. It was very faint, +simply a stir in the ear drums, yet it was entirely clear. That clear, +cold mountain air was a perfect telephone system, conveying a message +distinctly, no matter how faintly. There were no tall buildings or +cities to disturb the ether waves. And all three of them knew at the +same instant it was not exactly the cry they had heard before. + +They couldn't have told just why, even if they had wished to talk about +it. In some dim way, it had lost the strange quality of despair that it +had held before. It was as if the pack were running with renewed life, +that each wolf was calling to another with a dreadful sort of +exultation. It was an excited cry too,--not the long, sad song they had +learned to listen for. It sounded immediately behind them. + +They couldn't help but listen. No human ears could have shut out the +sound. But none of them pretended that they had heard. And this was the +worst sign of all. Each one of the three was hoping against hope in his +very heart; and at the same time, hoping that the others did not +understand. + +For a long time, as the darkness deepened about them, the forests were +still. Perhaps, Dan thought, he had been mistaken after all. His +shoulders straightened. Then the chorus blared again. + +The man looked back at the girl, smiling into her eyes. Lennox lay as if +asleep, the lines of his dark face curiously pronounced. And the girl, +because she was of the mountains, body and soul, answered Dan's smile. +Then they knew that all of them knew the truth. Not even an +inexperienced ear could have any delusions about the pack song now. It +was that oldest of wilderness songs, the hunting-cry,--that frenzied +song of blood-lust that the wolf pack utters when it is running on the +trail of game. It had found the track of living flesh at last. + +"There's no use stopping, or trying to climb a tree," Dan told them +simply. "In the first place, Lennox can't do it. In the second, we've +got to take a chance--for cold and hunger can get up a tree where the +wolf pack can't." + +He spoke wholly without emotion. Once more he tightened the traces of +the sled. + +"I've heard that sometimes the pack will chase a man for days without +attacking," Lennox told them. "It all depends on how long they've gone +without food. Keep on and try to forget 'em. Maybe we can keep 'em +bluffed." + +But as the hours passed, it became increasingly difficult to forget the +wolf pack. It was only a matter of turning the head and peering for an +instant into the shadows to catch a glimpse of one of the creatures. +Their forms, when they emerged from the shadows of the tree trunks, were +entirely visible against the snow. They no longer yapped and howled. +They acted very intent and stealthy. They had spread out in a great +wing, slipping from shadow and shadow, and what were their mental +processes no human being may even guess. It was a new game; and they +seemed to be seeking the best means of attack. Their usual fear of men, +always their first emotion, had given way wholly to a hunting cunning: +an effort to procure their game without too great risk of their own +lives. In the desperation of their hunger they could not remember such +things as the fear of men. They spread out farther, and at last Dan +looked up to find one of the gray beasts waiting, like a shadow himself, +in the shadow of a tree not one hundred feet from the sled. Snowbird +whipped out her pistol. + +"Don't dare!" Dan's voice cracked out to her. He didn't speak loudly; +yet the words came so sharp and commanding, so like pistol fire itself, +that they penetrated into her consciousness and choked back the nervous +reflexes that in an instant might have lost them one of their three +precious shells. She caught herself with a sob. Dan shouted at the wolf, +and it melted into the shadows. + +"You won't do it again, Snowbird?" he asked her very humbly. But his +meaning was clear. He was not as skilled with a pistol as she; but if +her nerves were breaking, the gun must be taken from her hands. The +three shells must be saved to the moment of utmost need. + +"No," she told him, looking straight into his eyes. "I won't do it +again." + +He believed her. He knew that she spoke the truth. He met her eyes with +a half smile. Then, wholly without warning, Fate played its last trump. + +Again the wilderness reminded them of its might, and their brave spirits +were almost broken by the utter remorselessness of the blow. The girl +went on her face with a crack of wood. Her snowshoe had been cracked by +her fall of the day before, when running to the fire, and whether she +struck some other obstruction in the snow, or whether the cracked wood +had simply given way under her weight, mattered not even enough for them +to investigate. As in all great disasters, only the result remained. The +result in this case was that her snowshoe, without which she could not +walk at all in the snow, was irreparably broken. + + + + +VI + + +"Fate has stacked the cards against us," Lennox told them, after the +first moment's horror from the broken snowshoe. + +But no one answered him. The girl, white-faced, kept her wide eyes on +Dan. He seemed to be peering into the shadows beside the trail, as if he +were watching for the gray forms that now and then glided from tree to +tree. In reality, he was not looking for wolves. He was gazing down into +his own soul, measuring his own spirit for the trial that lay before +him. + +The girl, unable to step with the broken snowshoe, rested her weight on +one foot and hobbled like a bird with broken wings across to him. No +sight of all this terrible journey had been more dreadful in her +father's eyes than this. It seemed to split open the strong heart of the +man. She touched her hand to his arm. + +"I'm sorry, Dan," she told him. "You tried so hard--" + +Just one little sound broke from his throat--a strange, deep gasp that +could not be suppressed. Then he caught her hand in his and kissed +it,--again and again. "Do you think I care about that?" he asked her. "I +only wish I could have done more--and what I have done doesn't count. +Just as in my fight with Cranston, nothing counts because I didn't win. +It's just fate, Snowbird. It's no one's fault, but maybe, in this world, +nothing is ever any one's fault." For in the twilight of those winter +woods, in the shadow of death itself, perhaps he was catching +glimmerings of eternal truths that are hidden from all but the most +far-seeing eyes. + +"And this is the end?" she asked him. She spoke very bravely. + +"No!" His hand tightened on hers. "No, so long as an ounce of strength +remains. To fight--never to give up--may God give me spirit for it till +I die." + +And this was no idle prayer. His eyes raised to the starry sky as he +spoke. + +"But, son," Lennox asked him rather quietly, "what can you do? The +wolves aren't going to wait a great deal longer, and we can't go on." + +"There's one thing more--one more trial to make," Dan answered. "I +thought about it at first, but it was too long a chance to try if there +was any other way. And I suppose you thought of it too." + +"Overtaking Cranston?" + +"Of course. And it sounds like a crazy dream. But listen, both of you. +If we have got to die, up here in the snow--and it looks like we +had--what is the thing you want done worst before we go?" + +Lennox's hands clasped, and he leaned forward on the sled. "Pay +Cranston!" he said. + +"Yes!" Dan's voice rang. "Cranston's never going to be paid unless we do +it. There will be no signs of incendiarism at the house, and no proofs. +They'll find our bodies in the snow, and we'll just be a mystery, with +no one made to pay. The evidence in my pocket will be taken by Cranston, +sometime this winter. If I don't make him pay, he never will pay. And +that's one reason why I'm going to try to carry out this plan I've got. + +"The second reason is that it's the one hope we have left. I take it +that none of us are deceived on that point. And no man can die +tamely--if he is a man--while there's a chance. I mean a young man, like +me,--not one who is old and tired. It sounds perfectly silly to talk +about finding Cranston's winter quarters, and then, with my bare hands, +conquering him, taking his food and his blankets and his snowshoes and +his rifle to fight away these wolves, and bringing 'em back here." + +"You wouldn't be barehanded," the girl reminded him. "You could have the +pistol." + +He didn't even seem to hear her. "I've been thinking about it. It's a +long, long chance--much worse than the chance we had of getting out by +straight walking. I think we could have made it, if the wolves had kept +off and the snowshoe hadn't broken. It would have nearly killed us, but +I believe we could have got out. That's why I didn't try this other way +first. A man with his bare hands hasn't much of a chance against another +with a rifle, and I don't want you to be too hopeful. And of course, the +hardest problem is finding his camp. + +"But I do feel sure of one thing: that he is back to his old trapping +line on the North Fork--somewhere south of here--and his camp is +somewhere on the river. I think he would have gone there so that he +could cut off any attempt I might make to get through with those +letters. My plan is to start back at an angle that will carry me between +the North Fork and our old house. Somewhere in there I'll find his +tracks, the tracks he made when he first came over to burn up the house. +I suppose he was careful to mix 'em up after once he arrived there, but +the first part of the way he likely walked straight toward the house +from his camp. Somewhere, if I go that way, I'll cross his +trail--within ten miles at least. Then I'll back-track him to his camp." + +"And never come back!" the girl cried. + +"Maybe not. But at least everything that can be done will be done. +Nothing will be left. No regrets. We will have made the last trial. I'm +not going to waste any time, Snowbird. The sooner we get your fire built +the better." + +"Father and I are to stay here--?" + +"What else can you do?" He went back to his traces and drew the sled one +hundred yards farther. He didn't seem to see the gaunt wolf that backed +off into the shadows as he approached. He refused to notice that the +pack seemed to be steadily growing bolder. Human hunters usually had +guns that could blast and destroy from a distance; but even an animal +intelligence could perceive that these three seemed to be without this +means of inflicting death. A wolf is ever so much more intelligent than +a crow,--yet a crow shows little fear of an unarmed man and is wholly +unapproachable by a boy with a gun. The ugly truth was simply that in +their increasing madness and excitement and hunger, they were becoming +less and less fearful of these three strange humans with the sled. + +It was not a good place for a camp. They worked a long time before they +cleared a little patch of ground of its snow mantle. Dan cut a number of +saplings--laboriously with his ax--and built a fire with the +comparatively dry core of a dead tree. True, it was feeble and +flickering, but as good as could be hoped for, considering the +difficulties under which he worked. The dead logs under the snow were +soaked with water from the rains and the thaws. The green wood that he +cut smoked without blazing. + +"No more time to be lost," Dan told Snowbird. "It lies in your hands to +keep the fire burning. And don't leave the circle of the firelight +without that pistol in your hand." + +"You don't mean," she asked, unbelieving, "that you are going to go out +there to fight Cranston--unarmed?" + +"Of course, Snowbird. You must keep the pistol." + +"But it means death; that's all it means. What chance would you have +against a man with a rifle? And as soon as you get away from this fire, +the wolves will tear you to pieces." + +"And what would you and your father do, if I took it? You can't get him +into a tree. You can't build a big enough fire to frighten them. Please +don't even talk about this matter, Snowbird. My mind's made up. I think +the pack will stay here. They usually--God knows how--know who is +helpless and who isn't. Maybe with the gun, you will be able to save +your lives." + +"What's the chance of that?" + +"You might--with one cartridge--kill one of the devils; and the +others--but you know how they devour their own dead. That might break +their famine enough so that they'd hold off until I can get back. That's +the prize I'm playing for." + +"And what if you don't get back?" + +He took her hand in one of his, and with the other he caressed, for a +single moment, the lovely flesh of her throat. The love he had for her +spoke from his eyes,--such speech as no human vision could possibly +mistake. Both of them were tingling and breathless with a great, sweet +wonder. + +"Never let those fangs tear that softness, while you live," he told her +gently. "Never let that brave old man on the sled go to his death with +the pack tearing at him. Cheat 'em, Snowbird! Beat 'em the last minute, +if no other way remains! Show 'em who's boss, after all--of all this +forest." + +"You mean--?" Her eyes widened. + +"I mean that you must only spend one of those three shells in fighting +off the wolves. Save that till the moment you need it most. The other +two must be saved--for something else." + +She nodded, shuddering an instant at a menacing shadow that moved within +sixty feet of the fire. The firelight half-blinded them, dim as it was, +and they couldn't see into the darkness as well as they had before. +Except for strange, blue-yellow lights, close together and two and two +about the fire, they might have thought that the pack was gone. + +"Then good-by, Dan!" she told him. And she stretched up her arms. "The +thing I said--that day on the hillside--doesn't hold any more." + +His own arms encircled her, but he made no effort to claim her lips. +Lennox watched them quietly; in this moment of crisis not even +pretending to look away. Dan shook his head to her entreating eyes. "It +isn't just a kiss, darling," he told her soberly. "It goes deeper than +that. It's a symbol. It was your word, too, and mine; and words can't be +broken, things being as they are. Can't I make you understand?" + +She nodded. His eyes burned. Perhaps she didn't understand, as far as +actual functioning of the brain was concerned. But she reached up to +him, as women--knowing life in the concrete rather than the +abstract--have always reached up to men; and she dimly caught the gleam +of some eternal principle and right behind his words. This strong man of +the mountains had given his word, had been witness to her own promise to +him and to herself, and a law that goes down to the roots of life +prevented him from claiming the kiss. + +Many times, since the world was new, comfort--happiness--life itself +have been contingent on the breaking of a law. Yet in spite of what +seemed common sense, even though no punishment would forthcome if it +were broken, the law has been kept. It was this way now. It wouldn't +have been just a kiss such as boys and girls have always had in the +moonlight. It meant the symbolic renunciation of the debt that Dan owed +Cranston,--a debt that in his mind might possibly go unpaid, but which +no weight of circumstance could make him renounce. + +His longing for her lips pulled at the roots of him. But by the laws of +his being he couldn't claim them until the debt incurred on the +hillside, months ago, had been paid; to take them now meant to dull the +fine edge of his resolve to carry the issue through to the end, to dim +the star that led him, to weaken him, by bending now, for the test to +come. He didn't know why. It had its font in the deep wells of the +spirit. Common sense can't reveal how the holy man keeps strong the +spirit by denying the flesh. It goes too deep for that. Dan kept to his +consecration. + +He did, however, kiss her hands, and he kissed the tears out of her +eyes. Then he turned into the darkness and broke through the ring of the +wolves. + + + + +VII + + +Dan Failing was never more thankful for his unerring sense of direction. +He struck off at a forty-five-degree angle between their late course and +a direct road to the river, and he kept it as if by a surveyor's line. +All the old devices of the wilderness--the ridge on ridge that looked +just alike, inclines that to the casual eye looked like downward slopes, +streams that vanished beneath the snow, and the snow-mist blowing across +the face of the landmarks--could not avail against him. + +A half dozen of the wolves followed him at first. But perhaps their +fierce eyes marked his long stride and his powerful body, and decided +that their better chance was with the helpless man and the girl beside +the flickering fire. They turned back, one by one. Dan kept straight on +and in two hours crossed Cranston's trail. + +It was perfectly plain in the moonlit snow. He began to back-track. He +headed down a long slope and in an hour more struck the North Fork. He +didn't doubt but that he would find Cranston in his camp, if he found +the camp at all. The man had certainly returned to it immediately after +setting fire to the buildings, if for no other reason than for food. It +isn't well to be abroad on the wintry mountains without a supply of +food; and Cranston would certainly know this fact. + +Dan didn't know when a rifle bullet from some camp in the thickets would +put an abrupt end to his advance. The brush grew high by the river, the +elevation was considerably lower, and there might be one hundred camps +out of the sight of the casual wayfarer. If Cranston should see him, +mushing across the moonlit snow, it would give him the most savage joy +to open fire upon him with his rifle. + +Dan's advance became more cautious. He was in a notable trapping region, +and he might encounter Cranston's camp at any moment. His keen eyes +searched the thickets, and particularly they watched the sky line for a +faint glare that might mean a camp fire. He tried to walk silently. It +wasn't an easy thing to do with awkward snowshoes; but the river drowned +the little noise that he made. He tried to take advantage of the shelter +of the thickets and the trees. Then, at the base of a little ridge, he +came to a sudden halt. + +He had estimated just right. Not two hundred yards distant, a camp fire +flickered and glowed in the shelter of a great log. He saw it, by the +most astounding good fortune, through a little rift in the trees. Ten +feet on either side, and it was obscured. + +He lost no time. He did not know when the wolves about Snowbird's camp +would lose the last of their cowardice. Yet he knew he must keep a tight +grip on his self-control and not let the necessity of haste cost him his +victory. He crept forward, step by step, placing his snowshoes with +consummate care. When he was one hundred yards distant he saw that +Cranston's camp was situated beside a little stream that flowed into the +river and that--like the mountaineer he was--he had built a large +lean-to reinforced with snowbanks. The fire burned at its opening. +Cranston was not in sight; either he was absent from camp or asleep in +his lean-to. The latter seemed the more likely. + +Dan made a wide detour, coming in about thirty yards behind the +construction. Still he moved with incredible caution. Never in his life +had he possessed a greater mastery over his own nerves. His heart leaped +somewhat fast in his breast; but this was the only wasted motion. It +isn't easy to advance through such thickets without ever a misstep, +without the rustle of a branch or the crack of a twig. Certain of the +wild creatures find it easy; but men have forgotten how in too many +centuries of cities and farms. It is hardly a human quality; and a +spectator would have found a rather ghastly fascination in watching the +lithe motions, the passionless face, the hands that didn't shake at all. +But there were no spectators--unless the little band of wolves, +stragglers from the pack that had gathered on the hills behind--watched +with lighted eyes. + +Dan went down at full length upon the snow and softly removed his +snowshoes. They would be only an impediment in the close work that was +sure to follow. He slid along the snow crust, clear to the mouth of the +lean-to. + +The moonlight poured through and showed the interior with rather +remarkable plainness. Cranston was sprawled, half-sitting, half-lying on +a tree-bough pallet near the rear wall. There was not the slightest +doubt of the man's wakefulness. Dan heard him stir, and once--as if at +the memory of his deed of the day before--he cursed in a savage whisper. +Although he was facing the opening of the lean-to, he was wholly unaware +of Dan's presence. The latter had thrust his head at the side of the +opening, and it was in shadow. Cranston seemed to be watching the +great, white snow fields that lay in front, and for a moment Dan was at +loss to explain this seeming vigil. Then he understood. The white field +before him was part of the long ridge that the three of them would pass +on their way to the valleys. Cranston had evidently anticipated that the +girl and the man would attempt to march out--even if he hadn't guessed +they would try to take the helpless Lennox with them--and he wished to +be prepared for emergencies. There might be sport to have with Dan, +unarmed as he was. And his eyes were full of strange conjectures in +regard to Snowbird. Both would be exhausted now and helpless-- + +Dan's eyes encompassed the room: the piles of provisions heaped against +the wall, the snowshoes beside the pallet, but most of all he wished to +locate Cranston's rifle. Success or failure hung on that. He couldn't +find it at first. Then he saw the glitter of its barrel in the +moonlight,--leaning against a grub-box possibly six feet from Cranston +and ten from himself. + +His heart leaped. The best he had hoped for--for the sake of Snowbird, +not himself--was that he would be nearer to the gun than Cranston and +would be able to seize it first. But conditions could be greatly worse +than they were. If Cranston had actually had the weapon in his hands, +the odds of battle would have been frightfully against Dan. It takes a +certain length of time to seize, swing, and aim a rifle; and Dan felt +that while he would be unable to reach it himself, Cranston could not +procure it either, without giving Dan an opportunity to leap upon him. +In all his dreams, through the months of preparation, he had pictured it +thus. It was the test at last. + +The gun might be loaded, and still--in these days of safety +devices--unready to fire; and the loss of a fraction of a second might +enable Cranston to reach his knife. Thus Dan felt justified in ignoring +the gun altogether and trusting--as he had most desired--to a battle of +hands. And he wanted both hands free when he made his attack. + +If Dan had been erect upon his feet, his course would have been an +immediate leap on the shoulders of his adversary, running the risk of +Cranston reaching his hunting knife in time. But the second that he +would require to get to his feet would entirely offset this advantage. +Cranston could spring up too. So he did the next most disarming thing. + +He sprang up and strode into the lean-to. + +"Good evening, Cranston," he said pleasantly. + +Cranston was also upon his feet the same instant. His instincts were +entirely true. He knew if he leaped for his rifle, Dan would be upon his +back in an instant, and he would have no chance to use it. His training, +also, had been that of the hills, and his reflexes flung him erect upon +his feet at the same instant that he saw the leap of his enemy's shadow. +They brought up face to face. The rifle was now out of the running, as +they were at about equal distances from it, and neither would have time +to swing or aim it. + +Dan's sudden appearance had been so utterly unlooked-for, that for a +moment Cranston could find no answer. His eyes moved to the rifle, then +to his belt where hung his hunting knife, that still lay on the pallet. +"Good evening, Failing," he replied, trying his hardest to fall into +that strange spirit of nonchalance with which brave men have so often +met their adversaries, and which Dan had now. "I'm surprised to see you +here. What do you want?" + +Dan's voice when he replied was no more warm than the snow banks that +reinforced the lean-to. "I want your rifle--also your snowshoes and your +supplies of food. And I think I'll take your blankets, too." + +"And I suppose you mean to fight for them?" Cranston asked. His lips +drew up in a smile, but there was no smile in the tone of his words. + +"You're right," Dan told him, and he stepped nearer. "Not only for that, +Cranston. We're face to face at last--hands to hands. I've got a knife +in my pocket, but I'm not even going to bring it out. It's hands to +hands--you and I--until everything's square between us." + +"Perhaps you've forgotten that day on the ridge?" Cranston asked. "You +haven't any woman to save you this time." + +"I remember the day, and that's part of the debt. The thing you did +yesterday is part of it too. It's all to be settled at last, Cranston, +and I don't believe I could spare you if you went to your knees before +me. You've got a clearing out by the fire--big as a prize ring. We'll go +out there--side by side. And hands to hands we'll settle all these debts +we have between us--with no rules of fighting and no mercy in the end!" + +They measured each other with their eyes. Once more Cranston's gaze +stole to his rifle, but lunging out, Dan kicked it three feet farther +into the shadows of the lean-to. Dan saw the dark face drawn with +passion, the hands clenching, the shoulder muscles growing into hard +knots. And Cranston looked and knew that merciless vengeance--that +age-old sin and Christless creed by which he lived--had followed him +down and was clutching him at last. + +He saw it in the position of the stalwart form before him, the clear +level eyes that the moonlight made bright as steel, the hard lines, the +slim, powerful hands. He could read it in the tones of the voice,--tones +that he himself could not imitate or pretend. The hour had come for the +settling of old debts. + +He tried to curse his adversary as a weakling and a degenerate, but the +obscene words he sought for would not come to his lips. Here was his +fate, and because the darkness always fades before the light, and the +courage of wickedness always breaks before the courage of righteousness, +Cranston was afraid to look it in the face. The fear of defeat, of +death, of Heaven knows what remorselessness with which this grave giant +would administer justice was upon him, and his heart seemed to freeze in +his breast. Cravenly he leaped for his knife on the blankets below him. + +Dan was upon him before he ever reached it. He sprang as a cougar +springs, incredibly fast and with shattering power. Both went down, and +for a long time they writhed and struggled in each other's arms. The +pine boughs rustled strangely. + +The dark, gaunt hand reached in vain for the knife. Some resistless +power seemed to be holding his wrist and was bending its bone as an +Indian bends a bow. Pain lashed through him.--And then this dark-hearted +man, who had never known the meaning of mercy, opened his lips to scream +that this terrible enemy be merciful to him. + +But the words wouldn't come. A ghastly weight had come at his throat, +and his tortured lungs sobbed for breath. Then, for a long time, there +was a curious pounding, lashing sound in the evergreen boughs. It seemed +merciless and endless. + +But Dan got up at last, in a strange, heavy silence, and swiftly went to +work. He took the rifle and filled it with cartridges from Cranston's +belt. Then he put the remaining two boxes of shells into his shirt +pocket. The supplies of food--the sack of nutritious jerked venison like +dried bark, the little package of cheese, the boxes of hardtack and one +of the small sacks of prepared flour--he tied, with a single kettle, +into his heavy blankets and flung them with the rifle upon his back. +Finally he took the pair of snowshoes from the floor. He worked coldly, +swiftly, all the time munching at a piece of jerked venison. When he +had finished he walked to the door of the lean-to. + +It seemed to Dan that Cranston whispered faintly, from his +unconsciousness, as he passed; but the victor did not turn to look. The +snowshoes crunched away into the darkness. On the hill behind a +half-dozen wolves--stragglers from the pack--frisked and leaped about in +a curious way. A strange smell had reached them on the wind, and when +the loud, fearful steps were out of hearing, it might pay them to creep +down, one by one, and investigate its cause. + + + + +VIII + + +The gray circle about the fire was growing impatient. Snowbird waited to +the last instant before she admitted this fact. But it is possible only +so long to deny the truth of a thing that all the senses verify, and +that moment for her was past. + +At first the wolves had lingered in the deepest shadow and were only +visible in profile against the gray snow. But as the night wore on, they +became increasingly careless. They crept up to the very edge of the +little circle of firelight; and when a high-leaping flame threw a gleam +over them, they didn't shrink. She had only to look up to see that +age-old circle of fire--bright dots, two and two--at every side. + +It is an instinct in the hunting creatures to remain silent before the +attack. The triumph cries come afterward. But they seemed no longer +anxious about this, either. Sometimes she would hear their footfall as +they leaped in the snow, and what excitement stirred them she didn't +dare to think. Quite often one of them would snarl softly,--a strange +sound in the darkness. + +She noticed that when she went to her hands and knees, laboriously to +cut a piece of the drier wood from the rain-soaked, rotted snag that was +her principal supply of fuel, every wolf would leap forward, only to +draw back when she stood straight again. At such times she saw them +perfectly plainly,--their gaunt bodies, their eyes lighted with the +insanity of famine, their ivory fangs that glistened in the firelight. +She worked desperately to keep the fire burning bright. She dared not +neglect it for a moment. Except for the single pistol ball that she +could afford to expend on the wolves--of the three she had--the fire was +her last defense. + +But it was a losing fight. The rain-soaked wood smoked without flame, +the comparatively dry core with which Dan had started the fire had +burned down, and the green wood, hacked with such heart-breaking +difficulty from the saplings that Dan had cut, needed the most tireless +attention to burn at all. + +When Dan had gone, these little trees were well within the circle of the +wolves. Unfortunately, the circle had drawn in past them. Nevertheless, +now that the last of the drier dead wood was consumed, she shouldered +her ax and walked straight toward the gray, crouching bodies in the +snow. For a tragic second she thought that the nearest of them was going +to stand its ground. But almost when she was in striking range, and its +body was sinking to the snow in preparation for a leap, it skulked back +into the shadow. Exhausted as she was, it seemed to her that she chopped +endlessly to cut away one little length. The ax blade was dull, the +handle awkward in her hand, she could scarcely stand on her broken +snowshoes, and worse, the ice crust broke beneath her blows, burying the +sapling in the snow. She noticed that every time she bent to strike a +blow, the circle would plunge a step nearer her, withdrawing as she +straightened again. + +Books of woodcraft often describe with what ease a fire may be built and +maintained in wet snow. It works fairly well in theory, but it is a +heart-breaking task in practice. Under such difficulties as she worked, +it became one of those dreadful undertakings that partake of a nightmare +quality,--the walking of a treadmill or the sweeping of waves from the +shore. + +When she secured the first length, her fire was almost extinguished. It +threw a fault cloud of smoke into the air, but the flame was almost +gone. The darkness dropped about her, and the wolves came stealing over +the snow. She worked furiously, with the strength of desperation, and +little by little she won back a tiny flame. + +Her nervous vitality was flowing from her in a frightful stream. Too +long she had toiled without food in the constant presence of danger, and +she was very near indeed to utter exhaustion. But at the same time she +knew she must not faint. That was one thing she could not do,--to fall +unconscious before the last of her three cartridges was expended in the +right way. + +Again she went forth to the sapling, and this time it seemed to her that +if she simply tossed the ax through the air, she could fell one of the +gray crowd. But when she stooped to pick it up--She didn't finish the +thought. She turned to coax the fire. And then she leaned sobbing over +the sled. + +"What's the use?" she cried. "He won't come back. What's the use of +fighting any more?" + +"There's always use of fighting," her father told her. He seemed to +speak with difficulty, and his face looked strange and white. The cold +and the exposure were having their effect on his weakened system, and +unconsciousness was a near shadow indeed. "But, dearest,--if I could +only make you do what I want you to--" + +"What?" + +"You're able to climb a tree, and if you'd take these coats, you +wouldn't freeze by morning. If you'd only have the strength--" + +"And see you torn to pieces!" + +"I'm old, dear--and very tired--and I'd crawl away into the shadows, +where you couldn't see. There's no use mincing words, Snowbird. You're a +brave girl--always have been since a little thing, as God is my +Judge--and you know we must face the truth. Better one of us die than +both. And I promise--I'll never feel their fangs. And I won't take your +pistol with me either." + +Her thought flashed to the clasp hunting knife that he carried in his +pocket. But her eyes lighted, and she bent and kissed him. And the +wolves leaped forward even at this. + +"We'll stay it out," she told him. "We'll fight it to the last--just as +Dan would want us to do. Besides--it would only mean the same fate for +me, in a little while. I couldn't cling up there forever--and Dan won't +come back." + + * * * * * + +She was wholly unable to gain on the fire. Only by dint of the most +heart-breaking toil was she able to secure any dry fuel for it at all. +Every length of wood she cut had to be scraped of bark, and half the +time the fire was only a sickly column of white smoke. It became +increasingly difficult to swing the ax. The trail was almost at its end. + +The after-midnight hours drew one by one across the face of the +wilderness, and she thought that the deepening cold presaged dawn. Her +fingers were numb. Her nerve control was breaking; she could no longer +drive a straight blow with the ax. The number of the wolves seemed to be +increasing: every way she looked she could see them leaping. Or was this +just hysteria? Surely the battle could go on but a few moments more. The +wolves themselves, sensing dawn, were losing the last of their +cowardice. + +Once more she went to one of the saplings, but she stumbled and almost +went to her face at the first blow. It was the instant that her gray +watchers had been waiting for. The wolf that stood nearest leaped--a +gray streak out of the shadow--and every wolf in the pack shot forward +with a yell. It was a short, expectant cry; but it chopped off short. +For with a half-sob, and seemingly without mental process, she aimed her +pistol and fired. + +A fast-leaping wolf is one of the most difficult pistol targets that can +be imagined. It bordered on the miraculous that she did not miss him +altogether. Her nerves were torn, their control over her muscles largely +gone. Yet the bullet coursed down through the lungs, inflicting a mortal +wound. + +The wolf had leaped for her throat; but he fell short. She staggered +from a blow, and she heard a curious sound in the region of her hip. But +she didn't know that the fangs had gone home in her soft flesh. The wolf +rolled on the ground; and if her pistol had possessed the shocking power +of a rifle, he would have never got up again. As it was, he shrieked +once, then sped off in the darkness to die. Five or six of the nearest +wolves, catching the smell of his blood, bayed and sped after him. + +But the remainder of the great pack--fully fifteen of the gray, gaunt +creatures--came stealing across the snow toward her. White fangs had +gone home; and a new madness was in the air. + + * * * * * + +Straining into the silence, a perfectly straight line between Cranston's +camp and Snowbird's, Dan Failing came mushing across the snow. His sense +of direction had never been obliged to stand such a test as this before. +Snowbird's fire was a single dot on a vast plateau; yet he had gone +straight toward it. + +He was risking everything for the sake of speed. He gave no heed to the +fallen timber that might have torn the web of his snowshoes to shreds. +Because he shut out all thought of it, he had no feeling of fatigue. The +fight with Cranston had been a frightful strain on muscle and nerve; but +he scarcely remembered it now. His whole purpose was to return to +Snowbird before the wolves lost the last of their cowardice. + +The jerked venison that he had munched had brought him back much of his +strength. He was wholly unconscious of his heavy pack. Never did he +glide so swiftly, so softly, with such unerring step; and it was nothing +more or less than a perfect expression of the ironclad control that his +steel nerves had over his muscles. + +Then, through the silence, he heard the shout of the pack as the wolf +had leaped at Snowbird. He knew what it meant. The wolves were attacking +then, and a great flood of black, hating bitterness poured over him at +the thought he had been too late. It had all been in vain, and before +the thought could fully go home, he heard the dim, far-off crack of a +pistol. + +Was that the first of the three shots, the one she might expend on the +wolves, or had the first two already been spent and was she taking the +last gateway of escape? Perhaps even now Lennox was lying still on the +sled, and she was standing before the ruin of her fire, praying that her +soul might have wings. He shouted with all the power of his lungs across +the snow. + +But Snowbird only heard the soft glide of the wolves in the snow. The +wind was blowing toward Dan; and while he had heard the loud chorus of +the pack, one of the most far-carrying cries, and the penetrating crack +of a pistol, she couldn't hear his answering shout. In fact, the +wilderness seemed preternaturally still. All was breathless, heavy with +suspense, and she stood, just as Dan had thought, between the ruin of +her fire and the sled, and she looked with straight eyes to the oncoming +wolves. + +"Hurry, Snowbird," Lennox was whispering. "Give me the pistol--for that +last work. We have only a moment more." + +He looked very calm and brave, half-raised as he was on the sled, and +perhaps a half-smile lingered at his bearded lips. And the bravest thing +of all was that to spare her, he was willing to take the little weapon +from her hand to use it in its last service. She tried to smile at him, +then crept over to his side. + +The strain was over. They knew what they had to face. She put the +pistol in his steady hand. + +His hand lowered to his side and he sat waiting. The moments passed. The +wolves seemed to be waiting too, for the last flickering tongue of the +little fire to die away. The last of her fuel was ignited and burning +out; they were crouched and ready to spring if she should venture forth +after more. The darkness closed down deeper, and at last only a column +of smoke remained. + +It was nothing to be afraid of. The great, gray leader of the pack, a +wolf that weighed nearly one hundred pounds, began slowly and +deliberately to set his muscles for the spring. It was the same as when +the great bull elk comes to bay at the base of the cliffs: usually some +one wolf, often the great pack leader, wishing to remind his followers +of his might, or else some full-grown male proud in his strength, will +attack alone. Because this was the noblest game that the pack had ever +faced, the leader chose to make the first leap himself. It was true that +these two had neither such horns nor razor-edged hoofs as the elk, yet +they had eyes that chilled his heart when he tried to look at them. But +one was lying almost prone, and the fire was out. Besides, the madness +of starvation, intensified ten times by their terrible realization of +the wound at her hip, was upon the pack as never before. The muscles +bunched at his lean flanks. + +But as Snowbird and her father gazed at him in fascinated horror, the +great wolf suddenly smashed down in the snow. She was aware of its +curious, utter collapse actually before the sound of the rifle shot that +occasioned it had penetrated her consciousness. It was a perfect shot at +long range; and for a long instant her tortured faculties refused to +accept the truth. + +Then the rifle spoke again, and a second wolf--a large male that +crouched on the other side of the sled--fell kicking in the snow. The +pack had leaped forward at the first death; but they halted at the +second. And then terror came to them when the third wolf suddenly opened +its savage lips and screamed in the death agony. + +Up to this time, except for the report of the rifle, the attack had been +made in utter silence. The reason was just that both breath and nervous +force are needed to shout; and Dan Failing could afford to waste neither +of these vital forces. He had dropped to his knee, and was firing again +and again, his gray eyes looking clear and straight along the barrel, +his fingers without jerk or tremor pressing again and again at the +trigger, his hands holding the rifle as in a vice. Every nerve and +muscle were completely in his command. The distance was far, yet he shot +with deadly, amazing accuracy. The wolves were within a few feet of the +girl, and a fraction's waver in the gun barrel might have sped his +bullet toward her. + +"It's Dan Failing," Lennox shouted as the fourth wolf died. + +Then Snowbird snatched her pistol from her father's hand and opened +fire. The two shells were no longer needed to free herself and her +father from the agony of fangs. She took careful aim, and although a +pistol is never as accurate or as powerful as a rifle, she killed one +wolf and wounded another. + +Frenzied in their savagery, three or four of the remaining wolves leaped +at the body of one of the wounded; but the others scattered in all +directions. Still Dan fired with the same unbelievable accuracy, and +still the wolves died in the snow. The girl and the man were screaming +now in the frenzied joy of deliverance. The wolves scurried frantically +among the trees; and some of them unknowingly ran full in the face of +their enemy, to be shot down without mercy. And few indeed were those +that escaped,--to collect on a distant ridge, and, perhaps, to be +haunted in dreams by a Death that came out of the shadows to blast the +pack. + +Again the pack-song would be despairing and strange in the winter +nights,--that age-old chant of Famine and Fear and the long war of +existence with only Death and Darkness in the end. And because it is the +voice of the wilderness itself, the tenderfoot that camps in the +evergreen forest will listen, and his talk will die at his lips, and he +will have the beginnings of knowledge. And perhaps he will wonder if God +has given him the thews and fiber to meet the wilderness breast to +breast as Dan had met it: to remain and to fight and to conquer. And +thereby his metal will be tested in the eyes of the Red Gods. + +Snowbird stood waiting in the snow, arms stretched to her forester as +Dan came running through the wood. But his arms were wider yet, and she +went softly into them. + + * * * * * + +"We will take it easy from now on," Dan Failing told them, after the +camp was cleared of its dead and the fire was built high. "We have +plenty of food; and we will travel a little while each day and make warm +camps at night. We'll have friendship fires, just as sometimes we used +to build on the ridge." + +"But after you get down into the valleys?" Lennox asked anxiously. "Are +you and Snowbird coming up here to live?" + +The silence fell over their camp; and a wounded wolf whined in the +darkness. "Do you think I could leave it now?" Dan asked. By no gift of +words could he have explained why; yet he knew that by token of his +conquest, his spirit was wedded to the dark forests forever. "But heaven +knows what I'll do for a living." + +Snowbird crept near him, and her eyes shone in the bright firelight. +"I've solved that," she said. "You know you studied forestry--and I told +the supervisor at the station how much you knew about it. I wasn't going +to tell you until--until certain things happened--and now they have +happened, I can't wait another instant. He said that with a little more +study you could get into the Forest Service--take an examination and +become a ranger. You're a natural forester if one ever lived, and you'd +love the work." + +"Besides," Lennox added, "it would clip my Snowbird's wings to make her +live on the plains. My big house will be rebuilt, children. There will +be fires in the fireplace on the fall nights. There is no use of +thinking of the plains." + +"And there's going to be a smaller house--just a cottage at first--right +beside it," Dan replied. He could go back to his forests, after all. He +wouldn't have to throw away his birthright, fought for so hard; and it +seemed to him no other occupation could offer so much as that of the +forest rangers,--those silent, cool-nerved guardians of the forest and +keepers of its keys. + +For a long time Snowbird and he stood together at the edge of the +firelight, their bodies warm from the glow, their hearts brimming with +words they could not utter. Words always come hard to the mountain +people. They are folk of action, and Dan, rather than to words, trusted +to the yearning of his arms. + +"We're made for each other, Snowbird darling," he told her breathlessly +at last. "And at last I can claim what I've been waiting for all these +months." + +He claimed it; and in open defiance to all civil law, he collected fully +one hundred times in the next few minutes. But it didn't particularly +matter, and Snowbird didn't even turn her face. "Maybe you've forgotten +you claimed it when you first came back too," she said. + +So he had. It had completely slipped his mind, in the excitement of his +fight with the wolf pack. And then while Lennox pretended to be asleep, +they sat, breathless with happiness, on the edge of the sled and watched +the dawn come out. + +They had never seen the snow so lovely in the sunlight. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Voice of the Pack, by Edison Marshall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE OF THE PACK *** + +***** This file should be named 33877.txt or 33877.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/7/33877/ + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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