The Yale expositor., 1918-05-16


fear you'll vanish into nothing, like a
Hindu fakir stunt"
"No fear" Hazel laughed. 1--WE got
pony tied to a tree out there, and
four Siwashes and camp outfit over
by Crooked lake. II should vanish
I'd leave plain trail for you to fol-
low"
SWELL" Bill said, after a short ST.
lence, ''it's a hundred and forty miles
to Hudson's Bay post where there's
mission and preacher. Let's be on
our way and get married. Then Wen
come back here and spend our honey
moon, eh?"
She nodded assent.
"Are you game to start in half an
hour?" he asked, holding her OFF at
arms length admiringly.
"Tm game for anything, or wouldn't
be here" she retorted.
"All right. You just watch an ex-
hibition of speedy packing" Bill de-
clared-and straightway fell TO work.
Hazel followed him about. helping to
get the kyaks packed with food. They
caught the three horses, and Bill
stripped the pony Of HazePs riding
gear and placed pack on him. Then
he put her saddle on Silk.
"He's your private mount hence
forth" Bill told her laughingly. You'll
ride him with more pleasure than you
did the first time, won't you?"
Presently they were ready to start,
planning TO ride past Limping Georges
camp and tell him whittier they were
bound. Hazel was already mounted.
Roaring Bill paused, with his toe In
the stirrup, and smiled whimsically at
her over his horses back.
II forgot something" said he, and
went back into the cabin-whence he
shortly emerged, bearing in his hand
sheet Of paper upon which some
thing was written in bold. angular
characters. This he pinned on the
door. Hazel rode Silk close to see
what it might be, and laughed amused
ly, for Bill had written:
"Mr. and Mrs. William Wagstaff will
be at home to their friends on and
| dIIer June Ile LWeQIleI0.
He swung up into his saddle, and
they logged across the open. In the
edge of the first timber they pulled
up and looked backward at the cabin
browsing silently under its sentinel
tree. Roaring Bill reached out one
arm and laid 1t across HazePs shoul-
ders.
little person." he said soberly,
''here's the end Of one trail, and the
beginning of another-the longest trail
either of us has ever faced. How does
1t look to your"
She caught his fingers with a quick,
hard pressure.
"All trails look alike to me-" she
said, with shining eyes, "just so we
hit them together"
"What day of the month is this,
Bill7" Hazel asked.
Haven't the least idea," he an
swered lazily. "Time is of no conse-
quence to me at the present moment u
They were sitting on the warm earth
before their cabin, their backs propped
comfortably against a log, watching
the sun sink behind a distant skyline
all notched with purple mountains
upon which snow still fingered. Beside
them a smudge dribbled a wisp of
smoke sufficient to ward off a pesti-
lential swarm of mosquitoes and black
flies. In the clear, thin air of that
altitude the occasional voices of what
bird and animal life was abroad in the
wild broke into the evening hush with
astonishing distinctness-a lone goose
winged above in wide circles, utterins
his harsh and solitary cry. He had
lost his mate, Bill told her. Far off in
the bush a fox barked. The evening
flight of the wild ducks from Crooked
lake to chain of swamps passed in
termittently over the clearing with q
sibilant whistle of wings. To all the
wild things, no less than to the two
who watched and listened to the forest
traffic, 1t was a land of peace and
plenty.
"We ought to go up to the swamps
tomorrow and rustic some duck eggs, u
Bill observed irrelevantly--hise eyes fol.
lowing the arrow flight of a mallard
flock. But his wife was counting au-
dibly, checking the days off on heI
fingers.