The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1921-05-26
CHAPTER ~.
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uialS, hCtuIdAc huoNlcuSc VI phc
whole region Of the Divide. In her In
fancy the winding trails had been her
playground, and long ago she had ac-
CURED the mountaineer's sixth sense
for traversing them at night. She had
need Of that knowledge now. She
slipped into her free. swinging stride I;
and the last beams from the windows
of the house were soon lost In the
pines behind her. II was one of those
silent, breathIess nights with which
no mountaineer Is entirely %unacquaint-
ed, and for a long time the only sound
she could hear was her own soft
tramp In the pine needles. The trees
themselves were m%otionless. That
peculiar sound, not greatly different
from that of running water which the
wind often makes In the pine tops,
was entirely lacking. Not that she
could be deceived by It--as stories
tell that certain tenderfeet. dying Of
thirst In the barren hills, have been.
But she always liked the sound; and
she missed It especially tonight.
She felt that II she would stop to
listen, There would be many faint
sounds n the thhkets-those little
hushed noises that tho Wild things
make to remind nlght-wanderers Of
their presence. But she dia not In
the least care TO hear these sounds.
They DO not tend toward peace of
mind or a long walk oyer the ridges.
The wilderness began OF one
Whatever influence toward civilian
tlon her fathers house had brought TO
the wiios chopped off as beneath a
blade in the first fringe of pines. This
10 altogether characteristic Of the Ore
lgon forests. They are much too big
and too old to be tanned In any large
degree by the presence of one house.
No enc knew this fact better than
Lennox himself who. In a hard win.
ter Of four years before, had lookeS
out OF hts window to find the wolf
pack ranged in a hungry circle about
his honse. Within tive hundred yards
after she had passed through her IA
TIERS door, she was perfectly aware
that the wild was stirring and throb-
bling with life about her, AT first she
tried very hard to think OF other
things. But the attempt wasn't en-
urely a success. And before she had
covered the first of the twelve miles,
the sounds that from the first had
been knocking at the door Of her con-
seriousness began TO make an entrance.
II a person lies still long enough. he
can usually hear his heart beating
and the flow OF his blood In his
arteries. Any sound. no matter how
faint, will make itself heard at last.
IL was this way with a very peculiar
nolse that crept up through the silence
from the trail behind her. She
wouldn't give 1t any heed ut first. But
IN a very little while indeed, II grew
30 inslstens that she could no longer
disregard IL.
Some living creature was trotting
along on the trail behind, keeping APP
proximately the same distance be-
tween them.
Foregoing any attempt to ignore IL,
abe set her cooi young mind to think
ing what manue of beast 1t might be.
its step was not greatly different from
that Of a large dog-except possibly a
dog would have made slightly more
noise. Yet she couldn't ever be sure
Of this basic premise. because this
animal. whatever IL might be. had at
nrst seemingly moved with utmost
caution, but now took less care with
iits step than Is customary with the
wild denizens of he woods. A wolf,
for instance, can simply drift when Ii
wishes. and the silence OF a cougsr is
a name. Yet unless her pursuer were
n dog, which seemed entirely unlikely,
Il was certainly one of these two. She
would have liked very much to believe
the step was that of Old Wolf the
bear. suddenly curious as to what this
dim light OF hers night be; but she
couldn't bring herself to accept the
lie. Wool. except when wounded or
rcrnered. Is the most amiable crea-
lture In the Oregon woods. and II
Mould give her almost q sense OF Sc
lcurfty To have him waddling along
her. The wolves and cougar,
remembering the arms Of Wool. would
not be neaciy so curious. But unfor-
tunateiy. the black bear had never
done such a thing In the memory OF
man. and II he had, he would have
made SIX times as much noise he