Iron County news. [volume] (Hurley, Wis.) 1913-1950, 1918-03-30
CHAPTER XII.
Jack Frost WithdraWs.

All through the month of January
each evening, as dusk folded it's SOM
Der mantle about the meadow, the
wolves gathered to feast on the dead
horses, till Hazel's nerves were
strained to the swapping point. Some
times, when Bill was gone, and all
about the cabin was utterly still, one,
bolder or hungrier than his fellows,
would trot across the meadow, drawn
by the scent of the meat. Two or
three Of these Hazel shot with her
own rifle.
But when February marked another
span on the calendar the wolves came
no more. The bones were clean.
There was no impending misfortune
or danger that she could point to or
forecast with gertrude. Nevertheless,
struggle against it as she might, know
ing it for pure psychological phenom-
ena arising out of her harsh environ
ment Hazel suffered continual vague
forebOdings. The bald, white peaks
seemed to surround her like prison
from which there could be no release.
From day to day she was harassed by
dismal thoughts. She would wake in
the night clutching at her husband.
Such days as he went out alone she
passed in restless anxiety. Something
would happen. What it would be she
did not know. but to her it seemed
that the bleak stage was set for I'M
toward drama, and they two the pup
pets that must play.
When Bill drew her up close in his
arms, the intangible menace of the
wilderness and all the dreary mOnOt-
ony of the days faded into the back
ground. But they. no more than 9th
ers who have tried and failed for lack
OF understanding. could not live their
lives with their heads in an emotional
cloud. For every action there must
De a corresponding reaction. They
who have the capacity to reach the
heights must likewise. upon occasion,
plumb the depths. Life, she began to
realize, resolved itself into an unend-
ing succession of little, trivial things,
with here and there some great event
looming out above all the rest for its
bestowal of happiness or pain.
February and March stormed path
furiously across the calendar. Higher
and higher the drifts piled about the
cabin, till at length it was banked to
the caves with snow save where Bill
shoveled it away to let light to the
windows. Day after day they kept
indoors, stocking NJ the fire, listening
to the triumphant whoop of the winds.
"Snow, snow!' p Hazel burst out one
day. "FroSt that cuts you like
knife. 1 wish we were home again-or
some place"
$50 do L, little person" Bill said
gently. But springs almost at the
door. Hang on a little longer. We've
made fair stake, anyway, if we don't
wash an ounce of gold"
N"How are we going to get it all out?"
She voiced a troublesome thought.
shoulder pack to the Skeena," he
answered laconically. Build Al dugout
there, and float downstream. Portage
the rapids as they come"
.'Oh. Bill" She came and leaned
her head against him contritely. sour
moor ponies! And it was all my care
lesSness."
Never mind, hon. he comforted.
@They blinked out without suffering
And well make it like a charm. Be
Same-it'n soon be spring."
BY April the twentieth the abdica-
ton of Jack Frost was complete. A
kindlier despot ruled the land, and Bill
Wagstaff began to talk of gold.
that precious yellow metal sought
by men
In regions desolate.
Pursued in patient hope or furious
Breeder Of discord. wars. and murder
Gus hates
The victors spoil.
SO Hazel quoted, leaning over her
husbands shoulder. In the bottom of
his pan, shining among a fila Of black
sand, lay half dozen bright specks.