Year: 1873

A4l G1o uedu leaves dIlu uOI1OWS uuoC1
thescreen, for it was by no means deep;
the weather was too bitter cold for
more than a light fall, just enough to
drape nature gracefully in its folds,
and give promise of more to come.


Before the SKY bad cleared the last
mouthful of food had vanished, and ex-
cept for partridge that Ben had made
shift to kill with c1ub-for<there
were no firearms yet in canp-and a
rabbit taken i'll rude trap Of their
own constructing, they had not eaten
anything for two days. But they were
robust men, who would have tough
fight with starvation before succum-
bing; and then there was no lack of
water. 4.,


In the mean while they were almost
as much concerned for Mr.. Bruce as
for themselves. He might have lost
his way, they feared, or been overtaken
by the storm or the wolves; he might
come into camp any moment too far re-
duced to help himself, and need their
weak assistance. Since their stomachs
were idle, their brains became CORES
pondingly active with fearful magma
tions. Every day they proposed set
ting out to walk home-but perhaps
he would come tomorrow; and then
they hated to desert their post; besides,
the weather was singing cold, and, re-
duced by hunger, they might faint by
the way, frost-bitten, or, unarmed, en-
counter Indian devils and wolves!-
Whatever he might be able to endure
himself, Ben felt that Uncle Simon's
strength was utterly inadequate to the
struggle. They were beset with thou
sand peradventures; there was not only
lion in the way, but all manner of
perils, real and imaginary. So they
waited, perforce, watching the days
vanish in a tender dream Of color, and
the stars make their silent journey a
cross the deeps Of heaven, and the
mornings dawn as the rose blooms, un-
folding petal after petal of exquisite
bloom. They busted themselves still
about the camp and hovel, giving
thousand last touches, such rs they
would never have thought of giving at
another time, gathering frewood, and
setting the rabbit trap in vain. And
one day the axe fell from Ben's resolute
hand, and he just dragged himself in
side the camp, and stretched himself
before the fire. Uncle Simon had al
ready given out.


"Walking home could hardly have
been worse" Ben said, simply. Per-
haps he was thinking of somebody who
might have met him, kindly, at the
journeys end, in view of the dangers
he had passed.


"Perhaps Bruce'll come yet" re-
turned Uncle Simon.


Through chink in the camp door
Ben watched the sunset fade like a fire
among the woods, and one by one the
stars shine out, each in it's appointed
solitude, and the northern lights pal
pitate rosily along the sky. The how
ling of wolves echoed dismally, while
now and then branch cracked in the
forest, and the wind trebled among the
pines. Inside the fire made comfor-
tably glow, under the influence Of
which he was soon noding off to sleep,
when through the fog of his semicon-
sciousness he seemed to hear a sort of
ringing in his ears, at. first mere
thread of sound, then louder and near
er, as if every tree in the forest was
church steeple with all the bells a.
swinging. Then he heard no more till
a smothered groan from Uncle Simon
caused him to raise himself upon his
elbow. The fire was still swapping
and blazing brightly, and the form
and profile of Waman was Swallowed
forth upon the wall Of the camp-a
very familiar face and figure it was, too,
that appeared to be bending over some
thing that was cooking on the fire.
Was it the excited action Of his brain
that photographed Louisa Bruce on the
wall? If so, he prayed that it might
last forever. Then he turned his head
languidly toward the fire, and met
pair of eyes that had shone for him all
his life with the fascination Of will
o'-the-wisp. Were they still to haunt
him across the confines of this world :?


eff you are awake, Ben, you had bet
ter taste this Cruel that l have made
for you," said Louisa, quietly. "You
must be nearly famished."


"How came yOw here?' was all the
answer Ben vouchsafed.


"You are mighty polite if you are
most starved. Who else could come,