as performing her household tasks.

"Hain't yo' ergoin' ter tote yo'r rifle-gun?" queried Big Jerry, as he
noticed that the doctor was leaving the house without a weapon.

"No, not this trip. I'm not in a mood for hunting. All I want is a
walk,--and a stout club and Mike will be protection enough against
anything in these woods. Good-by, Smiles. I'll be back before
supper-time, hungry as a bear."

He left the clearing for the virgin woods at random, striding along
briskly and with rising spirits, and at first unmindful of the direction
that he was taking.

In fact he had, subconsciously--even in his recreation--refused to
follow the easiest way, and had struck out on the up-mountain trail.

* * * * *

For a while Donald walked on, regardless of whither. Then the
consciousness of the fact that he was in a--to him--unknown part of the
mountain, and nearing the summit, brought with it a recollection of the
words spoken that morning by little Lou, "Judd air erway ergin ... up in
the mountain."

Still, he kept on, for, although he told himself that he had not the
slightest intention of seeking the mountaineer, or the solution of
Smiles' troubled look, and most certainly was not courting trouble,
purposeless curiosity impelled him higher and higher into the hitherto
unexplored fastnesses. Now the timberlands lay beneath him, for,
although the hardy laurel continued in profusion, albeit somewhat dried
and withered, the trees were thinning out and becoming more scraggly,
and more frequently the naked rocks, split and seamed, thrust themselves
up through the baked soil, "like vertebrae in the backbone of the
mountain," thought Donald. Now they were toned and softened by moss and
lichen; now barren of vegetation, rugged and gaunt, split asunder by the
ancient elements. In the distress which had come like a cloud over the
sunlight of his spirits, so gayly anticipative a few hours previous,
they flung a wordless challenge to the battling instinct in the man, and
he accepted it with the thought that the best balm for troubled minds is
strenuous bodily action.

Eager and joyous over the new game, Mike tore about, panting, and
dashing from side to side through the underbrush on real, or imaginary,
scents, now stopping to dig madly for a moment, then racing on to catch
up with his master, who frequently had to haul him over the precipitous
crags by the shaggy hair on his muscular back.

The air