The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1921-02-10
CHAPTER III-contInued.

| It Is extremely doubtful If a plains
man would have possessed this 'knowl-
| edge. But q plainsman has not the
knowledge of life itself that the noun
! taiueer has, simply because he does
not see it in the raw. And he has not
half the intimate knowledge of death,
an absolute requisite Of self-com-
| pOS'.fe. The mOuntaineer knows life
in itR simple phases with little ~tradi-
! ton sr convention to blur the vision.
Death is a very intimate acquaintance
that N1ay be met in any snOwdrlft, on
any rocky trail; and these conditions
are very deadly to any decisions that
he has in regard to himself. He ac7
quires an ability to see just where he
stands, and of course that means self
possession. This quality had something
to do with the remarkable record that
the mountain men, such as that mag
nificent warrior from Tennessee, made
In the late war.
Cranston knew exactly what Snow
bird would do. Although of a higher
order, she was a mountain creature,
even as himself. She meant exactly
what she said. If he hadn't climbed
from Dams prone body, she would
have shot quickly and very straight. If
he tried to attack either of them now,
her finger would press back before he
could blink an eye, and she wouldn't
weep any hysterical tears over his
dead body. If he kept his distance,
she wouldn't shoot at all. He meant
to keep his distance. But he did know
that he could insult her without dam
ger to himself. And by now his lips
had acquired their old curl of scorn.
"I'n go, Snowbird." he said. ''I'n
leave you with your sissy. But guess
minutes"
81 saw. But you must remember
he's sick. Now CO."
eff he's sick, let him stay in bed
and have a wet nurse. Maybe you can
be that
The lids dropped halfway over her
gray eyes, and the slim finger curled
more tightly about the trigger. ooh,
wish 1 could shoot you, Bert!" she
said. She didn't whisper it, or hiss it,
or hurl 1t, or do any of the things most
people are supposed to do in moments
OF violent emotion. She simply said
it, and her meaning was all the
clearer.
"But you can't. And I'll pound that
millz-sop of yours to jelly every time
I see him! I'd think, Snowbird, that
you'd want man."
He started up the trail; and then
she did a strange thing. He's more of
q man than you are, right now, Bert"
she told him. Hell prove it some
day" Then her arm went about Dams
neck and lifted his head upon her
breast; and in Cranston's plain sight,
she bent and kissed him, softly, on
the lips.
Cranston's answer was an oath. It
dripped from his lips, more poisonous,
more malicious than the venom of a
snake. His features seemed to tight
en-, the dark lips drew away from his
teeth. No words could have made
him such an effective answer as this
little action of hers. And as he turned
up the trail, he called down to her
a name-that most dreadful epithet
that foul tongues have always used
to women held in greatest scOrn.
Dan struggled in her arms. The
kiss on his lips, the instant before,
had not called him out of his half
consciousness. It had scarcely seemed
real, rather just an incident in bliss
full dream. But the word called down
the trail shot out clear and vivid from
the silence, just as a physicians face
will often leap from the darkness af-
ter the anesthesia Something infinite
Iy warm and tender was holding him,
pressing him back against a-hOly place
that throbbed and gave him life and
but he knew that this word
had to be answered. And only actions,
All the voices of his body called TO
him to lie still, but the voices of the
spirit, those higher, nobler promptings
from which no man, to the glorv OF
the breed from which he sprung. can
ever quite escape, were stronger yet.
He tugged upward, straining. But he
didn't even have the strength to break
the hold that the soft arm had about
his neck.
ooh, if I could only pull the trig-
ger!' she was crying. "f / could
only kill him"
"Let me-" he pleaded. "Give me
the pistol. TIL kill him"
And he would. There was no finch
ing in the gray eyes that looked up
to her. She leaned forward, as if to
put the weapon in his hands, but at
once drew 1t back. And then a single
sob caught at her throat An instant
later they heard Cranston's laughter
trail.
For long minutes the two of them
we're still. The girl still held the mans
head upon her breast. The pistol had
fallen in the pine needles, and her
nervous hand plucked strangely at the