The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1910-04-08

~ Association.
Barbara Owen parted the flaps of
the tent and drank in with delighted
eyes the scene before her. The little
camp perched almost on the edge of
the precipice commanded a magnt6-
cent view Of the snow topped Cascade
range blushing under the first rays of
the rising sun.
Barbara went to another tent and
called her father. He replied by a
yawn, followed by a racking cough.
Then she hastened to q third tent and
prepared breakfast. =.
Presently James Owen came forth.
Hungry as a bear, Bab,". he said.
''The very smell Of that coffee makes
me feel ten years younger!!"
II wish the taste Of it would make
you feel ten times BETTER" said Bar
bara as she placed the meal on the
table.
Barbara chatted brightly during the
meal and wien 1t was over completed
her household tasks, and, leaving her
father swinging in a hammock among
the trees with a book between his thin
fingers, she disappeared in the forest.
The path she trod was family de-
fined by disturbed brown needles, and
it followed a curse marked by high
branched trees, winding in and out,
skirting a thicket Of dwarfed spruce
or leading I've a roughly bridged gully
to a broad wagon trail.
Before she reached the wagon trail
Barbara turned abruptly to the left.
Here a giant spruce lifted a naked
white shaft high above the surround
ing trees of the forest.
Crowding about the spruce was a
thicket of young hemlock, ragged and
starved for want Of light and air.
There were an opening in the thicket
and q low mound covered with brown
needles. Dry eyed and fearless. Bar
bara sat down in the dimness and tried
to face a future that was ominously
near-a futsi'e when her father should.
be laid beside her mother in another
grave under the tall spruce.
A branch cracked under a, firm tread
and then another. A mans low whis-
tie came nearer to Barbara's retreat,
and presently the man himself came
into view among the distant tree
trunks. Clad in brown khaki, like her.
SELF. with leather puttees, blue flannel
shirt open ut a strong brown throat
and q canxas hat tossed back on a
rumpled head, Barbara recognized the
young man as n of the foresters pa
trolling the governments forest re-
serve wherein their camp was pitched.
She had met these men occasionally
along the wagon trail, and her father
had fallen into conversation with n
Of the sturdy, bronzed woodsmen and
afterward had spoken enthusiastically
Of the splendid work in which they
were engaged.
Barbara watched him with interest,
confident that he would not penetrate
into the thicket.
When he came to the spruce he stop
ped suddenly, leaned back and squint-
ed his eyes at the white shaft above
his head. He knelt down and exam
ined the young hemlocks and once
more drew out his notebook. Barba-
ra, silent and brown, blending with the
background Of brown trunks, was un-
observed until the forester drew his
Ratchet and cut q deep incision in the
spruce tree. The girl was on her feet
in an instant.
"Stopw she cried. Don't do that"
The man started and peered as II
some brown wood fairy had arisen be-
fore his bewildered eyes. Barbara
laughed shakily.
ut sounds like a school Grafton,
.woodman, spare that tree;' but, you
see, my mother is buried here-and-
and-the tree marks her grave"
The man shrl removed his hat and
looked at her with respectful attention.
Barbara noted that he was young, per-
haps thirty. with a crop Of thick, sun
burned hair and 4, handsome, well tan
ned face lighted by keen dark eyes.
II an very sorry" He hesitated. Il
wouli not do anything to pain you;
but, you see, it is my duty to take
care Of the forest. Fol the safety OF
the other and younger trees this dead
spruce should come down."
Barbara'sHeyes filled with tears as
she bowed her head against the white
trunk of the spruce. I'VE thought 1t
would be quite undisturbed here !
the forest, she sobbed. There are
only three of us-mother here-she
died suddenly; father, back at the
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