The Prescott daily news., 1918-04-19

ever we get tired of the world at large. Cuddle up and go to sleep. You're dead-game sport. or you'd have hol- lered long ago."
 And, next day. to Hazel. sitting by watching him swing the heavy, double bitted ax on the foundation logs or 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? It was sheer folly-a mere ebb of spirit.
 Fortune favored them to the extent of letting the October storms remain in abeyance until Bill finished his cabin, with cavernous fireplace of rough stone at one end.
 Followed then the erection of stable to shelter the horses. Midway of its construction cloud bank blew. out of the northeast, and a 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. It was necessary to husband the stock of hay, for spring might be late.
 After that they went hunting. The ch kxr,A 0 n open glade ten miles afield. It took them two more days to haul In the frozen meat on sled.
 He also laid in stock of frozen trout by the simple expedient of locat- ing large pool, and netting the speckled denizens thereof through . hole In the ice.
 | So their larder was amply supplied. And, as the cold rigidly frightened its grip, and succeeding snows deepened the white blanket till snowshOes be- came imperative, Bill began to string out a line of traps.
 December winged by, the days sue ceeding each other like glittering pan- els on black ground of long. drear nights. Christmas came. They mus tered up something of the holiday spirit, dining gayly of roast of carl bou. For the occasion Hazel had saved the last half dozen potatoes. With the material at her command she evolved a Christmas pudding. serving 1t with brandy sauce. And after satisfying appetites bred of morning tilt with Jack Frost along Bills trap line. they spent 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 HsSt 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. "Shes blowing out of the northwest again. The sparks are sailing pretty high. Keep your eye on it. Hazel"
 "All right. Billum." she replied. "Tll be careful"
 Not more than f'y 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 chim- ney of their fireplace yawned wide to the sky, vomiting sparks and nsh like n 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 ax and knife for tools. She was working on a pair of moccasins after m Indian pattern, and she grew wholly absorbed fin 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! Blll's due home any time, and I haven't thing ready to eat" she exclaimed. And here's my fire nearly out"
 She piled on wood, and stirring the