The Yale expositor., 1918-04-25
p v.
In Deep Water.

The dawn thrust aside nights SOM
her curtains while they ate, revealing
a sky overcast with slaty clouds. What
with her sanderings Of the night be-
fore and the journey through the dark
with Roaring Bill, she had absolutely
no idea OF either direction or locality.
The Unfolding timber shut off the out
look.
"Do you suppose I can get home in
time to open school?' she inquired
a~nXiously.
Roaring Bill smiled. 81 don't know"
he answered. at all depends"
"You know where you are now,
don't your" she asked.
"Not exactly" he responded. "But
I will before long-I hope"
The ambiguity of his answer did not
escape her. She puzzled over 1t while
SILK ambled sedately behind the other
horses. She hoped that Bill Wagstaff
knew where he was going. II he did
not-but she refused to entertain the
alternative. And she began TO watch
eagerly for some sign Of familiar
ground.
For two hours Roaring Bill trampled
through aisles bordered with pine and
spruce and fir, through thickets Of
berry bush, and across limited areas of
grassy meadow. Not once did they
cross a road or a trail. Eventually Bill
halted at n small stream 10 get a drink.
Hazel looked at her watch. 1t was
half past eight.
Aren't we ever going to get there?"
she called impatiently.
pretty soon." he called back, and
struck out briskly again.
Another hour passed. Ahead Of her,
leading n pack horse and letting the
other follow untrammeled, Roaring
Bill kept d~oggedly on, hating for moth
ing, never looking back.
They crossed a ravine and slanted
up a steep hillside. Presently Hazel
could look away over an area of wood
land undulating Ike n heavy ground
swell at sea. Here and there ridges
stood forth boldly above the general
roll. and distantly she could descry a
white-capped mountain range. They
turned the end Of q thick patch Of pine
scrub, and Bill pulled up in n small
opening. From a case swinging at his
belt he took out a pair Of field glasses,
and leisurely surveyed the country.
"Well" Hazel Intercepted.
Nothing in sight, is there?" Bill said
thoughtfully. "If the sun was out,
now. Funny 1 can't spot that Soda
Creek trail"
Don't you know this country at
ALP she said gloomily.
81 thought l did" he replied. "But
I can't seem to get ry bearings to
work out correctly. I'm awfuIly sorry
TO keep you in such a pickle. But it
can't be helped"
He took up the lead rope and moved
on. They dropped over the ridge
crest and once more into the woods.
Roaring Bill made his next halt beside
a spring, and fell to unIashing the
packs.
"what are you going to doT" Hazel
asked.
"Cook a bite. and let the horses
rraze." he told her. "Do you realize
that we've been going since daylight
it's near noon. Horses have to eat and
rest once in a while, just the same as
human beings"
The logic Of this Hazel could not
we'll deny, since she herself was tired
and ravenously hungry. BY her watch
IL was just noon.
Bill hobbled out his horses on the
grass below the spring, made a fire,
and set to work cooking. He worked
silently at the meal getting, fried
steaks Of venison, and boiled a pot OF
coffee. They ate. He filed his pipe,
and smoked while he repacked. Alto
gether, he did not consume more than
forty minutes at the noon halt. Hazel,
now woefully saddle sore. would fain
have rested longer, and. In default OF
resting, tried TO walk and lead SILK
Roaring Bill offered no objection to
that. But he hit a faster gait. She
could not keep up, and he did moi
slacken pace when she began to fall
behind. So she mounted awkwardly
and silk jclted and shook her with his
trotting until he caught up with his