from some distant height, then
climbing again only to wind about and again descend. Often the way was
rough with boulders that had never been blasted out,--sometimes steeply
shelving where the gorge was deepest and the precipice sheerest. Past
all dangers the girl drove with skilful hand, now encouraging her team
with her low voice, now restraining them, where their load crowded upon
them over slippery, shelving rocks, with strong pulls and sharp command.
David marvelled at her serenity under the strain, and at her courage and
deftness. With the calmness of the boy nestling at her side, he resigned
himself to the sweet witchery of the time and place. Glancing up at the
high seat behind him, he saw the child's feet dangling, and knew they
must be cold.

"Why can't your little brother sit back here with me?" he said; "I'll
cover him with my rug, and we'll keep each other warm."

He saw the small hunched back stiffen, and try to appear big and manly,
but she checked the team at a level dip in the road.

"Yes, sonny, get ovah theah with the gentleman. It'll be some coldah now
the sun's gone." But the little man was shyly reluctant to move. "Come,
honey. Sistah'd a heap rathah you would."

Then David reached up and gently lifted the atom of manhood, of pride,
sensitiveness, and affection, over where he caused him to snuggle down
in the fodder close to his side.

For a while the child sat stiffly aloof, but gradually his little form
relaxed, and his head drooped sideways in the hollow of the stranger's
shoulder, held comfortably by Thryng's kindly encircling arm. Soon,
with his small feet wrapped in the warm, soft rug, he slept soundly and
sweetly, rocked, albeit rather roughly, in the jolting wagon.

Thryng also dreamed, but not in sleep. His mind was stirred to unusual
depths by his strange surroundings--the silence, the mystery, the beauty
of the night, and the suggestions of grandeur and power dimly revealed
by the moonlight which bathed the world in a flood of glory.

He was uplifted and drawn out of himself, and at the same time he was
thrown back to review his life and to see his most inward self, and to
marvel and question the wherefore of it all. Why was he here, away from
the active, practical affairs which interest other men? Was he a
creature of ideals only, or was he also a practical man, taking the
wisest means of reaching and achieving results most worth while? He saw
himself in his childhood--in his you