to sleep I'll turn an' they won't be there--red an'
shinin'." Again she paused as if almost overwhelmed with emotion, saying
at length with a deep sigh: "Oh, that was indeed the promised land!"

Johnson was greatly moved. It was some time before he found his voice.
At length he chided her softly:

"We must always look ahead, Girl--not backwards. The promised land is
always ahead."

It was perhaps strange that the Girl failed to see the new light--the
light that reflected his desire for a cleaner life and an honoured place
in another community with her ever at his side--the hope and faith in
his eyes as he spoke; but still in that sad, reminiscent mood, with her
eyes fixed on the dim distances, she failed to see it, though she
replied in a voice of resignation:

"Always ahead--yes, it must be." And then again with tears in her eyes:
"But, Dick, all the people there in Cloudy, how far off they seem
now--like shadows movin' in a dream--like shadows I've dreamt of. Only a
few days ago I clasped their hands--I seen their faces--their dear
faces--I--" She broke off; then while the tears streamed down her
cheeks: "An' now they're fadin'--in this little while I've lost
'em--lost 'em."

"But through you all my old life has faded away . . . I have lost
that . . ." And so saying he stretched out his arms towards her; but
very gently she waved him back with a murmured:

"Not yet!"

For a little while longer her gaze remained on the mountains in the
west. The mist was still over her eyes when she turned again and saw
that the sun was clearing the horizon in opulent splendour.

"See," she cried with a quick transition of mood, "the sun has risen in
the East--far away--fair an' clear!"

Again Johnson held out his arms to her.

"A new day--a new life--trust me, Girl."

In silence she slipped one hand into his; then she bowed her head and
repeated solemnly:

"Yes--a new life."

Suddenly she drew a little away from him and faced the west again.
Clinging tightly now to him with one hand, and the other raised high
above her head, she cried in a voice that was fraught with such
passionate longing that the man felt himself stirred to the very depths
of his emotions:

"Oh, my mountains, I'm leavin' you! Oh, my California--my lovely
West--my Sierras, I'm leavin' you!" She ended with a sob; but the next
moment throwing herself into Johnson's arms she snuggled there,
murmuring lovingly: "Oh, my home!"

A little while later,