middle-age way the beauty and serenity of the hour.

"This is the kind of thing that makes up for a hard day's ride," he said,
jocosely.

As the sunset came on, the young people again loitered down to the
water's edge, and there, seated side by side, on a rocky knoll, watched
the phantom gold lift from the willows and climb slowly to the cliffs
above, while the water deepened in shadow, and busy muskrats marked its
glossy surface with long silvery lines. Mischievous camp-birds peered at
the couple from the branches of the pines uttering satirical comment,
while squirrels, frankly insolent, dropped cones upon their heads and
barked in saucy glee.

Wayland forgot all the outside world, forgot that he was studying to be a
forest ranger, and was alive only to the fact that in this most
bewitching place, in this most entrancing hour, he had the companionship
of a girl whose eyes sought his with every new phase of the silent and
wonderful scene which shifted swiftly before their eyes like a noiseless
yet prodigious drama. The blood in his thin body warmed. He forgot his
fatigue, his weakness. He was the poet and the forest lover, and this the
heart of the range.

Lightly the golden glory rose till only the highest peaks retained its
flame; then it leapt to the clouds behind the peaks, and gorgeously lit
their somber sulphurous masses. The edges of the pool grew black as
night; the voice of the stream grew stern; and a cold wind began to fall
from the heights, sliding like an invisible but palpable icy cataract.

At last the girl rose. "It is getting dark. I must go back and get
supper."

"We don't need any supper," he protested.

"Father does, and you'll be hungry before morning," she retorted, with
sure knowledge of men.

He turned from the scene reluctantly; but once at the camp-fire
cheerfully gave his best efforts to the work in hand, seconding Berrie's
skill as best he could.

The trout, deliciously crisp, and some potatoes and batter-cakes made a
meal that tempted even his faint appetite, and when the dishes were
washed and the towels hung out to dry, deep night possessed even the high
summit of stately Ptarmigan.

McFarlane then said: "I'll just take a little turn to see that the horses
are all right, and then I think we'd better close in for the night."

When they were alone in the light of the fire, Wayland turned to Berrie:
"I'm glad you're here. It must be awesome to camp alone in a wilderness;
and ye