The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1907-09-10
The EVENING STORY
The End of the Trail.
(By Jeanette Wilson.

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
DackWoodS of Maine.
A reckless and decidedly uniaoy
like procedure Mr.. Wright charac-
.terized it.
Mrs. Wright expressed her disap-
| proval more tentatively.
/ Wont there be very rough men
there, Helen?"
Nonsense, mother" was Helen
emphatic reply. "Only really nice men
go off to the woods-men who love
fishing and hunting and beautiful seen
cry and-and things just like tnat
But we girls shan't have anything 70
do with the men anyway. were 90
ing to have camp by ourselves you
know, and go off on long trips with
the guides
with the guides" gasped Mrs:
Wright. Have you lost all sense OF
Guides, mother dear explained
Helen Extraordinarily. '.are. nothing
but trees as men walking. They
haven't the least idea who's trailing on
behind them. Men, women, or chill
dren-it's all the same to them
"a theory more ingenious than con-
vircing," remarked her father soto
voce.
A week elapsed before any word
of postal and ran as follows:
This is a heavenly place. Been off
on several day trips Have a guaran-
teed indigenous, danger-proof guide
telligent for woodsman. Start to-
day on a 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, Mr.. Wright look
ed worried and his little wife shook
her head obviously.
I'D give anything to see her this
Providence spared her the shock of
it. For at the actual moment of her
mothers solicitude, Helen, her imma-
culate khaki skirt bedragged and
mudstained, her stylish buckskins dis
coIored and caked with bog soil, her
sun-burned face smeared with fly
lotion, was sitting beside a spring in
the woods hungrily devouring a
luncheon of pork sandwiches and
doughnuts. Incidentally, too, she was
admiring the picturesque attitude of
the guide as he stirred the coffee bub-
bling merrily in tin pail suspended
on an improvised crane over fire of
brushwood AS he filled a tin cup with
the hot, fragrant beverage, and pass
ed it to her, the sleeve of his flannel
shirt slipped back slightly and Helen
was amazed at the wilderness of his |
arm in contrast with his copper-color- |
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 a 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 rhythmi
and the guide at the stern, he had |
whispered suddenly, There's a deer. |
Sit perfectly STILL
Nearer and nearer the unconscious |
denly he raised his head, his whole |
body tent with alertness. and stood |
looking at them curiously. Then with |
snort of fear he leaped into the |
cracking underbrush into the forest. |
For a moment no one spoke Then |
Helen turned suddenly round almost |
overturning the canoe in her eager |
ness.
do men shoot those exquisite crea-
tures?" she asked. looking at the |
guide with wide incredulous eyes
Some do" he answered laconicalIy |
"Id rather put my arms around them |
myself"
Helen breathed deep sigh of relief |
and took up the paddle again. She |
was unaware that after this the dan |
ger proof guide" the while his keen |
eyes scanned the river on either side |
for a tel1-tale sway of the bushes |
watched with less intentness the |
graceful swing of her rounded white |
trary wind against which they were |
struggling seemed to him a special ia |
vor, as it blew back her wavy hair
in color suggestive of the bright tawny
coat of a deer-but far more IustrolIs |
On the day set to turn back on the |
trail, the rain fell in a steady down |
pour, and they were obliged to wait |
over till the sun should shine again.
Late in the afternoon, there being some |
feeble signs of clearing. Helen propos-
ed a fishing trip on the lake. The rest |
of the party vetoed the suggestion i'm
mediately but Helen donned her sweat
err. tied on her cap with a long brown |
veil-an unconsciously becoming effect |
and announced that she was going
anyway.
After rowing out some distance, the
guide noticed that her rod still Law in |
the bottom of the boat
Your hook is baited. Miss Wright"
he said courteously.
''Oh, bother the bait'' returned Helen
isn't it etiquette ever
to go out rowing just for the fun of |
it? Must one always f1sh?"
Though the guide made no comment. |
Helen was sure she detected a twinkle
of amusement in his eyes as he con-
tinued to row on, with firm, even
strokes.
At length, just as the sun broke
the clouds, the boat glided into
a cool mirrored stream leading almost
into the woods from the
head of the lake. In and out among
little groups of island bushes they made
their way, and on and on into the sun
set ever Just beyond. The spell of en-
chantment was upon them.
do you like it?' asked the guide
1T is Paradise" was Helen's scarce
ly audible reply.
A long silence followed.