tted me to see the flames of three lanterns hung to the
side-rails of the bridge. And that very moment a thin, piping voice came
out of the darkness beyond. "Daddy, is that you?" I did not know the
child's voice, but I sang out as cheerily as I could. "I am a daddy all
right, but I am afraid, not yours. Is the bridge broken down, sonny?
Anything wrong?" "No, Sir," the answer came, "nothing wrong." So I
pulled up to the lanterns, and there I saw, dimly enough, God wot, a
small, ten-year old boy standing and shivering by the signal which
he had rigged up. He was barefooted and bareheaded, in shirt and torn
knee-trousers. I pointed to the lanterns with my whip. "What's the
meaning of this, my boy?" I asked in as friendly a voice as I could
muster. "Daddy went to town this morning," he said rather haltingly,
"and he must have got caught in the fog. We were afraid he might not
find the bridge." "Well, cheer up, son," I said, "he is not the only
one as you see; his horses will know the road. Where did he go?" The boy
named the town--it was to the west, not half the distance away that I
had come. "Don't worry," I said; "I don't think he has started out at
all. The fog caught me about sixteen miles south of here. It's nine
o'clock now If he had started before the fog got there, he would be here
by now." I sat and thought for a moment. Should I say anything about
the broken culvert? "Which way would your daddy come, along the creek or
across the marsh?" "Along the creek." All right then, no use in saying
anything further. "Well, as I said," I sang out and clicked my tongue
to the horses, "don't worry; better go home; he will come to-morrow"
"I guess so," replied the boy the moment I lost sight of him and the
lanterns.

I made the turn to the southeast and walked my horses. Here, where the
trail wound along through the chasm of the bush, the light from my cone
would, over the horses' backs, strike twigs and leaves now and then.
Everything seemed to drip and to weep. All nature was weeping I walked
the horses for ten minutes more. Then I stopped. It must have been just
at the point where the grade began; but I do not know for sure.

I fumbled a long while for my shoes; but at last I found them and put
them on over my dry woollens. When I had shaken myself out of my robes,
I jumped to the ground. There was, here, too, a film of mud on top, but
otherwise the road was firm enough. I quickly threw the blankets over
the horses' backs,