ed at him again.
"Did you come out here from England?" said she.
The man's face grew a trifle grim. "No," he said gravely. "Whatever
could have made you think that of me?"
There were reasons why the girl could not explain, and the man
stretched out an arm with a little proud gesture that became him
curiously. "I am a Canadian first and last," said he. "Isn't this
country good enough for anybody?"
Miss Deringham was forced to admit that it apparently was. A blue lake
gleaming steely blue in the sunlight stretched away before them between
the towering firs, and beyond it lay an entrancing vision of great
white peaks.
"You do not like England, then?" said she.
The teamster smiled a little. "That," he said, "is not a fair question
to ask me. You and your father live there, don't you?"
Miss Deringham felt that she had trespassed, but was astonished that
this teamster should have wit enough to silence her with a compliment.
She also decided that he should not have the opportunity again.
They went on, winding along steep hillsides, splashing through
sparkling rivers, and lurching through the dim shadow of the bush,
until when the saffron sunset flamed along the peaks they came to the
head of a long declivity. On the one hand the snow towered in awful
white purity, on the other scattered firs sloped sharply down into a
hollow until they were lost in the fleecy vapours that streamed athwart
them. "Sit tight," said the teamster. "It's eight miles to Hobart's
ranch, and there's no time to lose if we're going to get in there
to-night."
He shook the reins, and the girl clutched the side of the wagon as she
felt the lash of the wind and noticed how the firs rushed past. It was
jolting horribly, and she was relieved when as the trail grew steeper
she saw the man tightening his grip on the reins and heard the grating
of the brake. It ceased suddenly, one of the horses stumbled, then
flung up its head, and they were going down faster than ever, while the
man had flung his shoulders back and was dragging at the reins. It
dawned upon Miss Deringham that something had gone wrong and the team
were running away.
There was now only white mist beneath them and the roar of water.
Trees came whirling up out of it, rock and bush swept past, while now
and then the wheels hung almost over the edge of the declivity, and the
girl could look down upon the sombre firs in the haze below. After one
glance, however, sh
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