The Fayette falcon. (Somerville, Tenn.) 190?-current, 1918-04-05
CHAPTER x-contInued.
10

10
On the second day they crossed the
Skeena, a risky and tedious piece OF
business, for the river ran deep and
strong.
Presently the way grew rougher. II
anything, Roaring Bill increased his
pace He himself no longer rode.
When the steepness of the hills and
canyons made the going hard the packs
were redlvided, and henceforth Satin
bore on his back q portion Of the sup
plies. Bill led the way t~irelessly.
Through files, river crossings, camp
labor, and all the petty lrrltations OF
the trail he kept an unruffied spirit, a
fine, enduring patience that Hazel mar
veled Mt and admired. Many a time,
Weakening Mt some slight stir, she
would find him cooking breakfast. In
every way within his power he saved
her.
Many a strange shift were they put
TO. Once Bill had to fell a great
spruce across a tw~enty-foot crevice. It
took him two days to hew 1t fiat so
that his horses could be led over. The
depth was bottomless to the eye, but
from far below rose the ~cavernous
growl Of rushing water, and Hazel
held her breath as each animal stepped
gingerly over the narrow bridge. One
misstep-
Once they climbed three weary days
up a preclpitous mountain range, and,
turned back In sight Of the crest by
an impossible cliff. were forced to
back track and swing a ffty-mlle de-
tour. September was upon them. The
days dwlndled in length, and the nights
grew to have a frosty nip.
Early and late he pushed on. Two
camp necessities were fortunately
abundant, grass and water. Even so,
the stress Of the trail told on the
horses. They lost flesh. The extreme
steepness Of succeeding hills bred gals
under the heavy packs. They grew
leg weary, no longer following each
other with ~sprlghtly step and heads
high. Hazel pltied them, for she her.
self was trail weary beyond words.
The vagabond instinct had fallen
asleep. The fine aura of no
longer lowered over the venture.
Sometimes when dusk ended the
days journey and she swung her stiff
fened limbs out of the saddle, she
would ~cheerfully have foregone all the
gold in the North to be at her ease
before the fireplace In their distant
cabin, with her mans head nesting in
her lap, and no toll of weary miles
looming sternly oil the morrow's hort
zon. 1t was all work, trying work, the
more trying because she sensed a
latent uneasiness on her husbands
part, an uneaslness she could In
duce him to embody In words. Never
theless, II existed, and she resented its
~existence-a trouble she could not
share. But she could not put her fn-
ger on the cause, for Bill merely smiled
q denial when she mentioned 1t.
Nor did she fathom the cause until
upon a certain day which fell upon
the end OF a weeks wearlsome traverse
of the hardest country yet encountered.
They broke out of a canyon up
which they had struggled all day onto
a level plot where the pine stood in
somber ranks. A spring creek split the
fiat in two. Beside this tiny stream
Bill unlashed his packs. It still lacked
two hours Of dark. But he made no
comment. and Hazel forbore 10 trouble
him with questions. Once the packs
were of and the horses at liberty, BIZ
caught up his rife.
"Come on, Hazel" he said. Lets
take a little hike"
The fat was small, and once clear
of II the pines thinned out on n steep,
rocky slope so that westward they
could overlook a vast network Of can
yons and mountain spurs. But ahead
of them the mountain rose to an up
standing backbone Of jumbled granite.
and on this backbone BIZ Wagstaff
bent an anxious eye. Presently they
sat down on a bowlder to take a
breathing spell after a stif stretch Of
climbing. Hazel slipped her hand in
his and whispered:
awhat Is II. Billy-boyT
~rm afraid we can't get over here
with The horses" he answered slowly.
sand IL we can't find a pass OF some
kind-weIl. come on II isn't mors
than a qeaFter OF a mile to the top