author - "Emerson Hough"
the oldest and best minds of this country havefelt--""At least those minds were shrewd in choosing their agent," sherejoined. "Yes; you are fanatic, that is plain. You will obeyorders. And you have not been much used to women. That makes itharder for me. Or easier!" She smiled at him again, very blithefor a prisoner. "It ought to have been held down to that," he began disconsolately,"I should have been all along professional only. It began wellwhen you
not such as growed in Wyoming.Now, Old Man Wright and me, us two, had brought up the kid. Me being foreman, that was part of my business too. We been busy. I could see we was going to be a lot busier. Before long something was due to pop. At last the old man comes to me once more. "Curly," says he, "I was in hopes something would happen, so that this range of ours wouldn't be no temptation to them irrigation colonizers; I was hoping something would happen to them, so they would
ew of all the village might have been statues for the time, so motionless, so tense was each.Not many actually heard the words of old Eph Adamson--words wrung out of the bitterness of his own soul perhaps, but words intolerable none the less. None had heard the words of Aurora Lane and the young man as they had spoken previous to this. None guessed who the stranger was or might be--none but drunken Eph Adamson. But all could see what now happened. For one instant the young man stood almost like
ture excited more than half my admiration, and all my love.Walpurgis on the ceiling, gray coming on in the embers, symptoms of death in the candle, a blotch of tallow on the Shakespeare, and the coat not half done. It must have been about then, I think, that the thin-edged sweetness of the Singing Mouse's voice pierced keenly through the air. I was right glad when the little creature came and sat on my knee, and in its affectionate way began to nibble at my finger-tips. It sat erect, its thin
of the recent laughter of his companions at his eagerness."Well, that's hard to say," replied his elder relative. "I'd like to start to-morrow morning. It all depends on the stage of the water. If a flood came down the Athabasca to-morrow you'd see pretty much every breed in that saloon over there stop drinking and hurry to the scows." "What's that got to do with it?" asked John. "Well, when the river goes up the scows can run the Grand Rapids, down below
sioner at Mammoth Hot Springs.[Illustration: "So Maw, dear, old, happy, innocent Maw, knelt down with her hatpin and wrote:"--p. 19] You see, the geysers rattled Maw, there being so many and she loving them all so much. One day when they were camped near the Upper Basin, Maw was looking down in the cone of Old Faithful, just after that Paderewski of the park had ceased playing. She told me she wanted to see where all the suds came from. But all at once she saw beneath her feet a
out of their folded sweaters. Soon they were helping Moise with his cooking at the fire and enjoying as usual their evening conversation with that cheerful friend.It did not take Moise, old-timer as he was, very long to get his bannocks and tea ready, and to fry the whitefish and grouse which the boys now brought to him. Uncle Dick looked at his watch after a time. "Forty minutes," said he. "For what?" demanded Jesse. "Well, it took us forty minutes to get off the packs
oduction, the multifold--all this was written under that skywhich now swept, deep and blue, flecked here and there with soft andfleecy clouds, over these fruitful acres hewn from the primevalforest.The forest, the deep, vast forest of oak and ash and gum and ghostlysycamore; the forest, tangled with a thousand binding vines andbriers, wattled and laced with rank blue cane--sure proof of a soilexhaustlessly rich--this ancient forest still stood, mysterious andforbidding, all about the edges of
she said, and withdrew her hands from his shoulders. The faces of both were now gazing straight on over the gold-flecked slope before them. "Go on, you are a man. I know you will not turn back from what you undertake. You will not change, you will not turn--because you cannot. You were born to earn and not to own; to find, but not to possess. But as you have lived, so you will die.""You give me no long shrift, mother?" said the youth, with a twinkle in his eye. "How can
Sir Alexander's record, you know--he made it from here in six days!""I don't remember that book very well," said Jesse; "I'll read it again some time." "We'll all read it each day as we go on, and in that way understand it better when we get through," ventured John. "But listen; I thought I heard them in the bush." It was as he had said. The swish of bushes parting and the occasional sound of a stumbling footfall on the trail now became plainer. They
the oldest and best minds of this country havefelt--""At least those minds were shrewd in choosing their agent," sherejoined. "Yes; you are fanatic, that is plain. You will obeyorders. And you have not been much used to women. That makes itharder for me. Or easier!" She smiled at him again, very blithefor a prisoner. "It ought to have been held down to that," he began disconsolately,"I should have been all along professional only. It began wellwhen you
not such as growed in Wyoming.Now, Old Man Wright and me, us two, had brought up the kid. Me being foreman, that was part of my business too. We been busy. I could see we was going to be a lot busier. Before long something was due to pop. At last the old man comes to me once more. "Curly," says he, "I was in hopes something would happen, so that this range of ours wouldn't be no temptation to them irrigation colonizers; I was hoping something would happen to them, so they would
ew of all the village might have been statues for the time, so motionless, so tense was each.Not many actually heard the words of old Eph Adamson--words wrung out of the bitterness of his own soul perhaps, but words intolerable none the less. None had heard the words of Aurora Lane and the young man as they had spoken previous to this. None guessed who the stranger was or might be--none but drunken Eph Adamson. But all could see what now happened. For one instant the young man stood almost like
ture excited more than half my admiration, and all my love.Walpurgis on the ceiling, gray coming on in the embers, symptoms of death in the candle, a blotch of tallow on the Shakespeare, and the coat not half done. It must have been about then, I think, that the thin-edged sweetness of the Singing Mouse's voice pierced keenly through the air. I was right glad when the little creature came and sat on my knee, and in its affectionate way began to nibble at my finger-tips. It sat erect, its thin
of the recent laughter of his companions at his eagerness."Well, that's hard to say," replied his elder relative. "I'd like to start to-morrow morning. It all depends on the stage of the water. If a flood came down the Athabasca to-morrow you'd see pretty much every breed in that saloon over there stop drinking and hurry to the scows." "What's that got to do with it?" asked John. "Well, when the river goes up the scows can run the Grand Rapids, down below
sioner at Mammoth Hot Springs.[Illustration: "So Maw, dear, old, happy, innocent Maw, knelt down with her hatpin and wrote:"--p. 19] You see, the geysers rattled Maw, there being so many and she loving them all so much. One day when they were camped near the Upper Basin, Maw was looking down in the cone of Old Faithful, just after that Paderewski of the park had ceased playing. She told me she wanted to see where all the suds came from. But all at once she saw beneath her feet a
out of their folded sweaters. Soon they were helping Moise with his cooking at the fire and enjoying as usual their evening conversation with that cheerful friend.It did not take Moise, old-timer as he was, very long to get his bannocks and tea ready, and to fry the whitefish and grouse which the boys now brought to him. Uncle Dick looked at his watch after a time. "Forty minutes," said he. "For what?" demanded Jesse. "Well, it took us forty minutes to get off the packs
oduction, the multifold--all this was written under that skywhich now swept, deep and blue, flecked here and there with soft andfleecy clouds, over these fruitful acres hewn from the primevalforest.The forest, the deep, vast forest of oak and ash and gum and ghostlysycamore; the forest, tangled with a thousand binding vines andbriers, wattled and laced with rank blue cane--sure proof of a soilexhaustlessly rich--this ancient forest still stood, mysterious andforbidding, all about the edges of
she said, and withdrew her hands from his shoulders. The faces of both were now gazing straight on over the gold-flecked slope before them. "Go on, you are a man. I know you will not turn back from what you undertake. You will not change, you will not turn--because you cannot. You were born to earn and not to own; to find, but not to possess. But as you have lived, so you will die.""You give me no long shrift, mother?" said the youth, with a twinkle in his eye. "How can
Sir Alexander's record, you know--he made it from here in six days!""I don't remember that book very well," said Jesse; "I'll read it again some time." "We'll all read it each day as we go on, and in that way understand it better when we get through," ventured John. "But listen; I thought I heard them in the bush." It was as he had said. The swish of bushes parting and the occasional sound of a stumbling footfall on the trail now became plainer. They