The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1909-04-15

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he began to realize that he wanted
her very much, too.
1t was easy going across the plain,
for the rain had settled the choking
dust, but had not yet flooded every
thing. His pony covered mile after
mile with the swinging, steady stride
of bush-bred nag. She was a. game
little beast, and in the pink of condi-
ton. He reached the foot of the ran
ges in no time.
He had to rein her in little here.
The slope was steep, and the pony's
hoofs slipped and slithered on the
shay ground. At the top of the first
rise she was painting, and he had to
ease her for few minutes to give her
a breather. Then they went down the
slope at a canter, and up the next
rise.
Then he urged her into a hand gal
lop. The trail was invisible TO any
one but a bushman. But Fred Stevens
knew every inch of 1t, and the pony
threaded her way through the gum
trees as only horse bred in the bush
can.
She did the 20 miles to the Sturra
river in a couple of hours. Once she
seemed to falter, and Stevens heart
went into his mouth. But is was only
a stumble. She recovered in mo-
ment, and the stroke of her hoofs was
as regular as ever, her breathing came
clear and steady.
And then they came to the river.
The ford was gone. The rain of the
past few days had swollen the Sturra
from a narrow sluggish stream to =
wide swift food.
Stevens refined in aghast. For a
moment he stared blankly at the river.
But Mullins must nave crossed it; and
though he had certainly saved his nag,
he couldn't show Fred Stevens any
thing in riding. And, anyway, there
was no help for it. Not for miles up
and down stream was there any sort OF
a ford Cross here he must.
He nudged the pony with his knees,
and chucked the reins sharply. She
started off at a canter, and then broke
into a gallop. At the waters edge
she slackened, faltered and paused.
Good lass! In with you, then!"
brcathed Stevens. hoarsely.
She gathered herself together, and
leaped out into the water; her forelegs
stretched out, one long, shapely pas
tern above the other. She struck the
water with a resounding splash, and
went nearly under. Then she rose
again and struck out for the opposite
side.
Stevens slipped out of the saddle
and swan beside her, one hand on the
bride.
The tide carried them down a yard
at a time; and when at last she strug
gled ashore on the opposite bank, they
had to cast back nearly half a mile
to the trail Then away they went
again.
The sun was beating down on the
mans bare head. His hat had been
swept off in the river. Things went
dim and misty every now and then
He began to sway in his saddle once
or twice. Only when the pony's stride
began to slacken did he pull himself
together and urge her on again.
They topped rise, and the long,
low buildings of the Watawa station
came into sight, beyond a stretch of
malice scrub. At last! Stevens
brushed the hair back from his fore
head, and smacked the pony gaily
on the neck. She shook her head and
whinnied plaintiyely.
What's up, old girl?" he cried.
She stumbled on for few yards and
then collapsed He only just slipped
out of the saddle in tine.
) He stood looking down at her Her
bloodshot eyes were rolling, her breath
came in deep gasps, her foam -decked
chest was heaving.
He knelt down and stroked her neck
soothingly, murmuring soft words Of
encouragement. In a little while she
responded, and struggled to her feet.
He led her for a few yards, pattng her
and letting her feel her way gingerly.
Then he clambered into the saddle
and set her off.
They plunged madly through the
: malice. The sharp thorns tore the
ponys chest and TANKS, and made
great ugly tears in the mans brooches.
Even his brown arms were scratched
and bleeding. But they struggled
gamely on, and at last broke out Of
the fringe of the malice into the grassy
= paddock beyond And then the nag
went down with a crash, flinging Ste
vens over her head. He sprang to his
> feet, and stood there staring at her
, dazedly. But she had fOundered hope.
lessly this time.
Then he turned and ran towards the
house, staggering blindIy across the
grass
Dorothy lay back in n wicker chair
on the yeranda, looking out at the
rapidly deepening afterglow. Suddenly
a faint, hOarse CO-e-ce came across the
paddock. She looked up wonderingly.
A dark swaying form was coming to-
wards her. lnstinctivcly she shaded
her tired eyes with thin white hand.
Then She sat up. her golden hair
D., | streaming round her, her eyes strain.
ing to make out the newcomers face.
II wasn't--it couldn't be
And then with a sobbing cry of
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