The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-01-31
THE FOREST OF
HIS FATHERS
CONTINUED FROM PAGE THREE

the snow in his face. had plunged
over the ledge and fallen head-fore-
most to the rocky beach No mans
hand was responsible for his hurt.
Was this then to be Soils venge-
ance Had he not gone out with
murder in his heart the land itself,
the forest of his fathers, would have
silently destroyed the invader! As it
was, he lay bruised and bleeding and
would yet pay the penalty of his
greed if Sol was one of such met
lie as he held himself to be.
whisky" moaned Blake. I'm
freezing, man. There's a flask in my
coat-pocket."
With the face of "a tortured fiend
and the gentle hand of mother
Sol drew out the flask, poured some
whisky into the cover, and held it
to the lips of the sufferer. Blake
drained it, then, with a sigh of per
feet confidence, let his head fall
back in the arms of the woodsman.
Queer thing, Wittemore," he muir
INJURED, and the ghost of a smile
lurked beneath his thick mustache,
that you should be the man to save
my life"
SO tis!" assented Sol in a life
less voice. Whereabouts are ye hurt
ed?"
Il don't know. 1t feels as if every
bone in my body was broken.
was stunned, / think"
With hands infinitely gentle, Sol
mady hasty examination. Blake
WIS a man of his own age who had
ed a sedentary life; though heavy,
his frame was small and his bones
very fragile Sol found an arm bro
ken in two places, and suspected
broken rib.
you wait here minute said
he, "lll be right back
He slipped off his "mackinaw" and
threw it over Blake, then started on
a run up the beach to a place where
an old sldff which he himself had
built from whipsawed pDanks was
hidden in the rushes. He waded out
through the shallow water, climbed
into the boat. and showed it back
along the beach to where Blake, with
perfect confidence, awaited him.
'Tll hev to take ye to my cab
in, to'other end o. Crooked Lake"
So told him. "Y' amt fit to walk
n | can't git ye acrost the carry
without hurtin ye pow'ful. Besides,
the winds with us, goin' my way
All right" said Blake. "Only hur.
ry-l'm almost frozen"
With infinite gentleness Sol raised
him in his powerful arms, carried
him across the beach to the boat
and laid him on the bed of hemlook
boughs with which ne had strewn
the bottom. Gentle as the woodsman
was. Blake suffered tortures in being
lifted, but the man was no coward
and not a sound escaped between
MS clenched teeth. Once in the boat
he asked for a swallow of whisky,
and when Sol held the flask to his
lips Blake looked at him with
pale smile.
81 guess well bury the hatchet
after this, Wittemore!" he said.
"A man cam buck the ways O
answered Sol, grimly.
He slipped the hatchet from his
belt, Topped down small spruce
tree, and stepped it forward in the
ski, where it served as mast and
sail. The dog was crouching on his
masters feet and SOL despite Blakes
protest, covered him with his mack
inaw coat; then, the upper part of
his powerful body shielded from the
the snowladen gale by nothing but
his shirt, he sat in the stern OF the
ski and steered for warmth and
food and shelter for the man whom
he had gone forth to slay.
The Winter had passed and the
forest air was sweet with the odors
of Spring. Sol sat on the doorstep
of his cabin and smoked his vener-
able pipe while his eyes rested with
thoughtful steadfastness upon the
fringe of budding green across the
clearing.
Presently he turned, and for many
gazed wistfully at the solid
OF deep,dark hemlock which
marked the limits of the Blake pre-
serve.
After ALL he said aloud. that
amt nothin' like the woods-the
deem uondc-tha hiu tin,hor,',