ome quite an
incidental interest since the church-building had begun. But The Pilot
went about with a radiant look on his pale face, while Bill gave it
forth as his opinion, "though she was a leetle high in the action, she
could hit an uncommon gait."

With such energy did Bill push the work of construction that by the
first of December the church stood roofed, sheeted, floored and ready
for windows, doors and ceiling, so that The Pilot began to hope that he
should see the desire of his heart fulfilled--the church of Swan Creek
open for divine service on Christmas Day.

During these weeks there was more than church-building going on, for
while the days were given to the shaping of logs, and the driving of
nails and the planing of boards, the long winter evenings were spent in
talk around the fire in my shack, where The Pilot for some months past
had made his home and where Bill, since the beginning of the church
building, had come "to camp." Those were great nights for The Pilot and
Bill, and, indeed, for me, too, and the other boys, who, after a day's
work on the church, were always brought in by Bill or The Pilot.

Great nights for us all they were. After bacon and beans and bannocks,
and occasionally potatoes, and rarely a pudding, with coffee, rich
and steaming, to wash all down, pipes would follow, and then yarns of
adventures, possible and impossible, all exciting and wonderful, and all
received with the greatest credulity.

If, however, the powers of belief were put to too great a strain by a
tale of more than ordinary marvel, Bill would follow with one of such
utter impossibility that the company would feel that the limit had been
reached, and the yarns would cease. But after the first week most of the
time was given to The Pilot, who would read to us of the deeds of the
mighty men of old, who had made and wrecked empires.

What happy nights they were to those cowboys, who had been cast up like
driftwood upon this strange and lonely shore! Some of them had never
known what it was to have a thought beyond the work and sport of the
day. And the world into which The Pilot was ushering them was all new
and wonderful to them. Happy nights, without a care, but that The Pilot
would not get the ghastly look out of his face, and laughed at the idea
of going away till the church was built. And, indeed, we would all have
sorely missed him, and so he stayed.

CHAPTER XXI.

HOW BILL HIT THE TRAIL

When "the c