waters, their sleek sides sheathed in rolls of fat, only waiting to
yield up their humble lives as their contribution to the insatiable
demands of the dominant race.

Two or three horses stood adjacent to the doorway of the humble barn,
patiently flickering their long, unkempt tails in a vain effort to ward
off the attacks of swarming flies. A few chickens moved about
drowsily, just outside the hutch which had been contrived for their
nightly shelter. While stretched upon the dusty earth, side by side,
lay two great rough-coated dogs slumbering their hours of watch and
ward away in the shade, with the indifference of creatures whose vain
hopes of battle have been all too long deferred.

All of a sudden there came a partial awakening.

Out of the west, down the slope of a neighboring hill came a figure on
horseback. It was moving at a rapid gallop. The horses at the barn
turned about and raised their heads watchfully. They whinnied at the
approach. The two dogs were on their feet startled into alertness,
vain hope rising once more in their fierce hearts. The hens cackled
fussily at the prospect of their deferred evening meal. The last of
the cattle ambled heavily from the water's edge. It was rather like
the obscure movement of a mainspring, setting into motion even the
remotest wheel of a mechanism.

Effie galloped up to the house. Nothing of the gentle waking her
coming had inspired attracted her observation. Her handsome eyes were
preoccupied, and their gaze wandered back over the way she had come,
searching the distance with the minutest care. Finally she dismounted
and off-saddled, turning her pony loose to follow the promptings of its
own particular requirements. Then she set about releasing the carcase
of the deer upon her saddle, and bore it away to a lean-to shed at the
side of the house. Emerging therefrom she picked up her saddle and
bridle and took them into the house. Then she took up her stand within
the doorway and, once more, narrowly searched the surrounding hills
with eyes as eager and doubtful as they were beautiful.

The calm of evening had settled once more upon the place. The peace of
it all was superlative. It was peace to which Effie was something more
than averse. She dreaded it. For all her two years of life in the
meagre home her husband had provided her with, it required all her
courage and fortitude to endure it. The hills haunted and oppressed
her, and her only hope