The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1923-03-08


down in the place where Bruce had
stood. But the man had been pre-
pared for this very recoil, and he had
sprung aside just as the claws raked
past.
And rhe Killer would hunt no more
In Trails End. At the end OF that
leap he fell, his great body quivering
strangely in the snow, The lead had
gone straight home where IL had been
aimed, and the charge Itself had been
mostly muscular reflex. He lay still
ut last, a gray, mammoth figure that
was majestic even in death.
No more would the deer shudder
with terror at the sound Of his heavy
step In the thicket. No more would
the herds fly into stampede at the
sight Of his great shadow on the
moonlit grass. The last Of the Oregon
grizzlies had gone the way Of all his
breed.
/. To Bruce and Linda, standing
brenthIess and awed In the snow
fun ries, his death lmaged the passing
Of an old order-the last stand that
the forces Of the wild had made
against %conquering man. But there
was pathos in 1t, too. There was the
symbol of mighty breeds humbled and
destroyed.
But the pines were left. Those eter-
nal symbols of the wilderness-and
of powers beyond the Wilderness
still stood straight and grand and I'M
passive above them. While these two
lived, at least, they would still keep
their watch over the wilderness, they
would still stand erect and brave to
| the huffeting OF the storm and snow,
and In their shade dwelt strength and
peace.
The cavern that was revealed to
them had a rock floor and had been
followed out by running water In ages
past. Bruce built a fire at Its mouth
Of some Of the long tree roots that ex-
tended down into 1t, and the life-giv-
ing warmth was a benedlction. AL
ready the drifting snow had begun to
cover the aperture.
"We can wait here until the blizzard
is DONE" Bruce told linda, as she sat
beside him In the soft glow Of the
fire. "We have a little food, and we
can cut more from the body Of the
/ grizzly when We need 1t. There's dead
wood under the snow. And when the
storm is over, we can get our bearings
and walk out"
She sat a long time without answer
ing. "And after thatf" she asked.
He smiled. mo one knows. It's ten
days before the thlrtieth-the biz
yards up here never last over three or
four days. We've got plenty of time
to get the document down to the
courts. The law will deal with the
rest Of the Turner's. We've won,
Linda"
His hands CROPPED for hers, and he
laid II against his lips. With her
other hand she stroked his snow-wet
hair. Her eyes were lustrous In the
freight.
"And after that-after ell that is
settled? You will come back to the
mOuntains?"
"Could 1 eyer leave them!7 he ex-
claimed. "Of course, Linda. But l
don't know what | can do up tere-
except maybe to establish my claim to
my fathers old farm. There's Z tun-
dred or so acres. / believe II like to
feel the handles of a. plc'f N my
palms,
ut was what you were made for,
Bruce" she told him. ITS hncn In
you. There's a hundred acre? tnere-
and three Observation-Disclosures else.
You've got new strength, Bruce, You
could take hold and make them yield
up their hay-and their c~rops- and
fill all these hills with the herds"
She stretched out her arms. Then all
at nee she dropped them almost as Il
in supplication. Rut her voice had