e seldom judicious with horses," answered Broussard, agreeing
as always with Colonel Fortescue. "I shall be glad to ride the old horse
once more, and thank you very much."

In a few minutes, the Colonel's own horse was brought and the two men,
mounting, rode off and away from the post for an hour's brisk ride in the
late winter afternoon.

Broussard, whose tongue was usually frozen to the roof of his mouth when
he was in the Colonel's presence, felt a sudden sense of freedom and
talked naturally and therefore intelligently. His description of
military affairs in the East was wonderfully illuminating, and the
Colonel plied him with questions. They were so interested in their talk
that they reached the spur of the mountain ranges before they knew it.
The crisp air had got into their blood and into that of their horses,
which took the mountain road sharply, and at an eager trot. They had
climbed a good mile along the steep winding road, the snow under their
feet frozen as hard as stone, the rocks ice-coated, and the fir trees
like great trees of crystal. Gamechick was so sure-footed that Broussard
gave him the reins but Colonel Fortescue watched his horse carefully.

Ahead of them was a sudden turn in the road under the great overhanging
cliff, and on it, a magnificent fir tree reared itself, glittering with
icicles, in the rose-red light of the sunset.

"Look," said Colonel Fortescue, pointing to the tree. "Was there ever
anything more beautiful?"

As the words left his lips he saw, and Broussard saw, a huge boulder
suddenly start down the mountain side and strike like a cannon ball the
splendid tree. There was a fearful breaking and splintering and all at
once it was as if the cliff crumbled and trees and boulders and ice and
snow came thundering and crashing down into the roadway. One moment the
crystal air had been so still that the click of the iron hoofs of their
horses seemed to be the only sound in the world. The next minute the
roar of breaking trees and falling rocks echoed like an earthquake and a
white cloud of misty snow and flying icicles hid the steel-blue heavens.

It was done in such a fragment and flash of time that Broussard hardly
knew what had happened. He found himself standing on his feet, entangled
in the frozen branches of a fir tree. A little way off he heard
Gamechick, whinnying with fear, while under a fallen boulder Colonel
Fortescue's horse lay, his neck broken. Close by Colon