further depths she had a wary
apprehension. And the old woodsman, busy grubbing out a narrow cellar
under his cabin, was happy in his purchase. The _tunk-a-tonk_ of the
mellow bell was sweetest music in his ears as he worked.

Now it chanced that that autumn was one of unusual drought. In the
channel of the Quah-Davic rocks appeared which the old woodsman had
never seen before. The leaves fell early, before half their wonted
gamut of colour was run through. They wore a livery of pallid
tones--rusty-reds, cloudy light violets, grayish thin golds, ethereal
russets--under a dry, pale sky. The only solid, substantial colouring
was that of the enduring hemlocks and the sombre, serried firs. Then
there came a mistiness in the air, making the noonday sun red and
unradiant And the woodsman knew that there were forest fires somewhere
up the wind.

A little anxious, he studied the signs minutely, and concluded that,
the wind being light, the fires were too far distant to endanger the
Quah-Davic region. Thereupon he decided to make a hurried trip to the
settlement for a sack of middlings and other supplies, planning to
return by night, making the round trip within the twenty-four hours in
order that the little red cow should not miss more than one milking.

On the afternoon of the woodsman's going, however, the wind freshened
into a gale, and the fires which had been eating leisurely way through
the forest were blown into sudden fury. That same evening a hurricane
of flame swept down upon the lonely cabin and the little wild meadow,
cutting a mile-wide swath through the woods, jumping the Quah-Davic,
and roaring on to the north. It was days before the woodsman could get
back along the smoking, smouldering trail, through black, fallen
trunks and dead roots which still held the persistent fire in their
hearts. Of cabin and barn, of course, there was nothing left at all,
save the half-dug cellar and the half-crumbled chimney. Sick at heart
and very lonely, he returned to the settlement, and took up his new
abode on a half-reclaimed farm on the outskirts, just where the tilth
and the wilderness held each other at bay.

The red cow, meanwhile, being shrewd and alert, had escaped the
conflagration. She had taken alarm early, having seen a fire in the
woods once before and conceived an appreciation of its powers. Instead
of flying straight before it, and being inevitably overtaken, she ran
at once to the river and galloped madly down