They Of The High Trails Part 66

There was something warmer than friends.h.i.+p in her voice, but the ranger was a timid man in any matter involving courts.h.i.+p, and he dared not presume on anything so vague as the change of a tone or the quality of a smile. Nevertheless he said:

"I cannot imagine how it happens that you are here in this rough country, but I am glad you are. I shall be glad all my life--even if you go away and forget me."

"I shall not forget you," she replied, "not for what you've done, but for what you are." And in this declaration lay a profound significance which the man seized and built upon.

"I am not even a forest ranger now. I am nothing but a dub--and you--they say are rich--but some day I'm going to be something else. I haven't any right--to ask anything of you--not a thing, but I must--I can't think of you going entirely out of my life. I want you to let me write to you. May I do that?"

Her answer was unexpected. "You once spoke of getting a transfer to a forest near Denver. If you should do that, you might see me occasionally--for I may make my home in Colorado Springs."

He stopped and they faced each other. "Does that mean that you _want_ me to stay in the service?"

Her face was pale, but her eyes were glowing. "Yes."

His glance penetrated deeper. "And you will wait for me?"

"As long as you think it necessary," she answered, with a smile whose meaning did not at once make itself felt, but when it did he reached his hand as one man to another. She took it, smiling up at him in full understanding of the promise she had made.

"Right here I make a new start," he said.

"I shall begin a new life also," she replied, and they walked on in silence.

_AFTERWORD_

_Have you seen sunsets so beautiful that your heart ached to watch them fade? So my heart aches to see the trails fading from the earth._

_As I re-enter the mountain forest I am a reactionary. I would restore every hill-stream to its former beauty if I could. I would carry forward every sign, every symbol, of the border in order that the children of the future should not be deprived of any part of their nation's epic westward march._

_I here make acknowledgment to the trail and the trail-makers. They have taught me much. I have lifted the latch-string of the lonely shack, and broken bread with the red hunter. I know the varied voices of the coyote, wizard of the mesa. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a silken cord, opalescent dawns and ruby sunsets. My camping-places return in the music of gold and amber streams. The hunter, the miner, the prospector, have been my companions and my tutors--and what they have given me I hold with jealous hand._

_The high trail leads away to shadow-dappled pools. It enables me to overtake the things vanis.h.i.+ng, to enter the deserted cabin, to bend to the rude fireplace and to blow again upon the embers, gray with ashes, till a flame leaps out and shadows of mournful beauty dance upon the wall._

_I am glad that I was born early enough to hear the songs of the trailers and to bask in the light of their fires._

[Ill.u.s.tration: Signature: Hamlin Garland]