The Benson signal., 1918-12-28

And, next day, to Hazel, sitting by
watching him swing the heavy, double
bitted ak on the foundation logs Of
their winter home, 1t all seemed fool
ish, that heaviness Of heart which
sometimes aSsailed her. She was per-
fectly happy. They had plenty Of food.
In few brief months Bill would wrest
sack Of gol from the treasure house
of the North, and they would journey
home by easy stages. Why should she
brood? 1t was sheer folly-a mere
ebb of spirit.
Fortune favored them to the extent
of letting the October storms remain
in allegiance until Bill finished his
cabin, with a cavernous fireplace Of
rough stone at one end.
Followed then the erection Of q
stable to shelter the horses. Midway
OF Its construction a cloud bank blew
out of the northeast, and foot Of
snow fell. Then it cleared to brilliant
days of frost. Bill finished his stable.
At night he tied the horses therein. By
day they were turned loose to rustic
their fodder from under the crisp
snow. 1t was necessary to husband
the stock of hay, for spring might be
late.
After that they went hunting. The
third day Bill shot two moose In an
open glade ten miles afield. It took
them two more days to haul in the
frozen meat on a sled.
He also laid in a stock of frozen
trout by the simple expedient Of locat-
Ing large pool, and netting the
| speckled denizens thereof through a
hole in the ice.
So their larder was amply supplied.
And, as the cold rigidly frightened it's
grip, and succeeding SHOWS deepened
the white blanket till snowshoes be-
came imperative, Bill began to string
out line of traps.
December winged by, the days sue
ceeding each other like glittering pam
els on black ground Of long, drear
nights. Christmas came. They mus
tered up something of the holiday
spirit, dining gayly off roast Of carl
bou. For the occasion Hazel had saved
the last half dozen potatoes. With the
| material at her command she evolved
Christmas pudding, serving it with
brandy sauce. And after satisfying
| appetites bred Of a morning tilt with
Jack Frost along Bills trap line, they
spent a pleasant hour picturing their
next Christmas. There would be holly
and bright lights and music-the festi-
val spirit freed Of all restraint.
A day or two after the first Of the
year Roaring Bill set out to go over
one Of the uttermost trap lines. Five
minutes after closing the door he was
back.
"Easy with that fire, little person"
he cautioned. "She's blowing out Of
the northwest again. The sparks are
sailing pretty high. Keep your eye
on it, Hazel
"All right. Billum," she replied. "I'll
be careful"
Not more than fifty yards separated
the house and stable. At the stable
end stood the stack Of hay, low hum
mock above the surrounding drift. Ex-
cept for the place where Bill daily re-
moved the supply for his horses there
was not much fOothold for a spark,
since a thin coat of snow overlaid the
greater part Of the top. But there was
that chance of catastrophe. The chin
ney Of their fireplace yawned wide to
the sky, vomiting sparks and ash like
miniature volcano when the fire was
roughly stirred, or an extra heavy sup
ply of dry wood laid on. When the
wind whistled out of the northwest the
line of flight was fair over the stack.
It behooved them to watch wind and
fire.
Hazel washed up her breakfast
dishes, and set the cabin in order ac-
cording to her housewifely instincts.
Then she curled up in the chair which
Bill had painstakingly constructed for
her especial comfort with only ak and
knife for tools. She was working on
q pair Of moccasins after an Indian
pattern, and she grew wholly absorbed
in the task, drawing stitch after stitch
of sinew strongly and neatly into
place. When at length the soreness
Of her fingers warned her that she had
been at work long time, she looked
at her watch.
Goodness me! Bits due home any
time, and I haven't q thing ready to
eat" she exclaimed. "And here's my
fire nearly out"
She piled on wood, and stirring the
Goals under it, famed them with her
husbands old felt hat. forgetful of
sparks or aught but that she should
be cooking against his hungry arrival.
Outside, the wind blew Justify, driving
the loose snow across the open in long,
wavering ribbons. But she had for
gotten that 1t was in the dangerous
quarter, and she did not recall that i'm
portant fact even when she sat down
again to watch her moose steaks broil
on the glowing Goals raked apart from
the leaping blaze. The flames licked
into the throat of the chimney with
the purr Of a giant Get.
No sixth sense warned her Of i'm
pending calamity. It burst upon her