Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-10-22
The End of
 The Trail.
By JEANETTE WILSON.
Copyrighted, 1907, by Jessie Morgan


 osN~s~sss~~s~ss~n~ne
 At last Helen had started. The rest of the family after Seeing her off, opened their comfortable cottage at the shore and awaited developments. They expected the worst to happen, for Helen, their tenderly and punctil- iously reared daughter, had broken away from domestic restraint and put into action an incomprehensible i'm pulse to spend her vacation in the backwoods of Maine.
 "A reckless and decidedly unlady- like procedure" MT. Wright charac- terized it.
 Mrs. Wright expressed her disap- proval more tentatively.
 Wont there be very rough men there, Helen?'
 Nonsense, mother!' was Helen's emphatic reply. "Only really nice men go off to the woods-men who love fish ing and hunting and beautiful scenery and-and things like that. But we girls shan't have anything to do with the men anyway. We're going to have a camp by ourselves, you know, and go off on long trips with the guides"
 with the guidesr' gasped Mrs. Wrigat. Have you lost all sense of propriety, Helen?"
 ''Guides, mother dear," explained Helen good naturedly, "are nothing but trees as men walking They haven't the least idea who's trailing on be- hind them. Men, women or children it's all the same to them"
 "A theory more ingenious than con- vincing," remarked her father sotto voce.
 A week elapsed before any word came from Helen. It took the form Of a postal and ran as follows:
 'This is heavenly place. Been off on several day trips. Have a guaran- teed indigenous, danger proof guide. Very handsome, though, and fairly in- telligent for woodsman. Start today on four or five days jaunt over the mountains. Don't worry about me. Never was happier in my life"
 In spite of the buOyant cheerfulness of Helen's message MT. Wright looked worried, and his little wife shook her head dubiously.
 I'd give anything to see her this minute" she sighed, but merciful Providence spared her the shock of it, for at the actual moment of her moth CTS solicitude Helen, her immaculate khaki skirt bedragged and mud stain ed, her stylish buckskins discolored and caked with bog soil, her sunburned face smeared with fly lotion, was sitting beside a spring in the woods hungrily devouring a luncheon of pork sand wiches and doughnuts. Incidentally, too, she was admiring the picturesque attitude of the guide as he stirred the coffee bubbling merrily in a tin pail suspended on an improvised crane over fire of brushwood. AS he filled tin cup with the hot, fragrant beverage and passed it to her the sleeve of his flannel shirt slipped back slightly. and Helen was amazed at the whiteness of his arm in contrast with the copper colored wrists and hands. She almost voiced her surprise, but checked her self in time to spare him embarrass- ment.
 AS the days went on Helen utilized every opportunity to learn what thoughts lay behind this mans as- sumed mask of self effacement, for even woodsman, she argued, must have ambitions and some powers of imagination. That he was tender hearted she discovered inadvertently. She would never forget the thrill she | had felt when one morning as they were padding silently and rhythmlcal- l ly down Clear river. she at the bow | and the guide at the stern. he hal 1 whispered suddenly: There's a deer. | Sit perfectly still"
 Nearer and nearer the unconscious | little creature they stole until sudden | ly he raised his head, his whole body | tent with alertness. and stood looking 1 at them curiOusly. Then. with snort | of fear, he leaped into the bushes and disappeared through the cracking un- derbrush into the forest. For a mo- ment no one spoke. Then Helen turn ed suddenly around, almost overturn- ing the canoe in her eagerness.
 Do men shoot those exquisite crea- tures?" she asked, looking at the guide with wide, incredulous eyes.
 Some do,'' he answered laconically. 'T'd rather put my arms around them myself"
 Helen breathed a deep sigh cl relief and took up the paddle again. She was unaware that after this the danger proof guide" the while his keen eyes scanned the rives on either side for teIltale sway of the bushes. watched with no less intentness the graceful swing Of her rounded white arms. Nor did she guess that the contrary wind against which they were struggling seemed to him a special favor. as It blew back her wavy hair. in color sug- Eestive of the bright tawny coat of a deer. but far more lustrous. On the day set to turn back on the trail the rain fell in a steady down pour. and they were obliged to wait ,ver till the sun should shine again. Late in the afternoon. there being some feeble signs of clearing. Helen proposed a fishing trip on the lake. The rest of the party vetoed the suggestion Immediately. but Helen donned her Jweater. tied on her cap with a long ,rOwn veil-an unconsciousIy becoming