e fiercely buzzing mosquitoes, and these he cursed
with whole-hearted enthusiasm which embraced a perfect vocabulary of
lurid blasphemy.

Twice on the journey he halted and unhitched his horses for feed and
drink and a roll. But the delays were short, and his vigorous methods
gave them but short respite. He cared for his equine friends with all
his might, and he drove them in a similar manner. This was the man. A
life on a bed of roses would not have been too good for his horses,
but if he so needed it they would have to repay him by driving over a
red-hot trail.

Now the home stretch lay before him, some twenty miles through a
wonderful broken country, all spruce and pine forests, crag and
valley, threaded by a white hard trail which wound its way amidst
Nature's chaos in a manner similar to that in which a mountain stream
cuts its course, percolating along the path of the least resistance.

Through this splendid country the untiring team traveled, hauling
their feather-weight burden as though there was nothing more joyous in
life. In spite of the length of the journey the gambler had to keep a
tight pressure on the reins, or the willing beasts would, at any
moment, have broken into a headlong gallop. Their barn lay ahead of
them, and their master sat behind them. What more could they want?

Up a sharp incline, and the race down the corresponding decline. The
wide stretch of valley bottom, and again a steep ascent. There was no
slackening of gait, scarcely a hard breath. Only the gush of eager
nostrils in the bright morning air of the mountains. Now along a
forest-bounded stretch of level trail, winding, and full of protruding
tree-stumps and roots. There was no stumbling. The surefooted
thoroughbreds cleared each obstruction with mechanical precision, and
only the spring-cart bore the burden of impact.

On, up out of the darkened valley to a higher level above, where the
high hills sloped away upwards, admitting the dazzling daylight so
that the whole scene was lit to a perfect radiance, and the nip of
mountain air filled the lungs with an invigorating tonic.

At last the traveler dropped down into the wide valley, in the midst
of which he first came into touch with the higher reaches of Suffering
Creek. Here it flowed a sluggish, turgid stream, so sullen, so heavy.
It was narrow, and at points curiously black in tone. There was none
of the freshness, the rushing, tumultuous flow of a mountain torrent
about it