The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1922-10-20

nurse hadn't meant such fires as swept
through the far-spread evergreen
forests of the Northwest. 1t was some
other, dread fire that scared the spirit
and burned the bloom out of the face
and all the gentle lights out of the
eyes. 1t did, however, leave certain
lights, but they were such that their
remembrance brought no pleasure to
Bruce. They were just wild glare,
fixed, strange brightness as of great
fear or insanity.
The Woman had kissed him and
gone quickly; and he had been too
young to remember If she had carried
any sort of bundle close to her breast.
Yet, the man considered, there must
have been such a bundle-otherwise
he couldn't possibly account for Linda.
at all.
OF course he had no memories of
her that first day, nor for the first
years. But all later memories of the
Square house always included her.
She must have been nearly four years
younger than himself; thus when he
was taken to the house she was only
an infant. But thereafter, the nurses
put them together often; and when
Linda was able to talk, she called him
something that sounded like Bwova-
boo. She called him that so often that
for a long time he couldn't be sure
that wasn't his real name. Now. in
manhood. he interpreted.
Brother Bruce, of course. Linda
was of course a sister"
Linda had been homely; even a
small boy could notice that. Besides,
Linda was nearly six when Bruce had
left for good; and he was then at an
age in which impressions begin to
be lasting. Her hair was quite blond
then, and her features rather irregular.
But there had been light in her eyes
By his word, there had beenl
She had been angry at him times in
plenty-over some childish game-and
he remembered how that light had
grown and frightened. She had flung
at him too. He laughed at the
memory of her sudden, explosive feroc-
ity-the way her hands had smacked
against his cheeks, and her sharp little
nails had scratched him Little Spit
fire." he sometimes called her; but
no one else could call her anything
but Linda. For Bruce had been an
able little fighter, even in those days.
He was fond of drawing pictures.
This was nothing in itself; many lit
tie boys are fond of drawing pictures.
Nor were his unusually good. Their
strangeness lay in his subjects. He
liked to draw animals in particular
the animals he read about in school
and in such books as were brought
to him. And sometimes he drew In
dams and cowboys. And one day
when he wasn't half watching what
he was doing-he drew something
quite different.
Perhaps he wouldn't have looked at
up behind him and taken it out of his
hands. 1t was geography then, not
drawing" and he should have been
paying attention" And he had every
reason to think that the teacher would
crumple up his picture and send him
to the cloak-room for punishment.
But she did no such thing. When
her eyes glanced down, her fingers
slowly Strengthened. Then she looked
again-carefully.
what is this, Bruce?" she asked.
what have you been drawing?"
IL don't know" the child an
swered He looked and for an instant
let his thoughts go wandering here
and there. "Those are trees" he
said A word caught at his throat and
he blurted it out. "Pines! Pine trees,
growing on mountain"
"Not bad for a six-year-old boy"
the teacher commented. "But where.
Bruce, have you ever seen or heard
of such pines?" But Bruce did not
know.
Another puzzling adventure that
stuck in Bruce's memory had happened
only a few months after his arrival
at the Square house, when a man had
taken him home on trial with the idea
of adoption.
All the incidents and details Of the
excursion with this prospective parent
were extremely dim and vague. He