.

No, he had refused the request of these two from the first moment when
he had realized his duty by them, and now, after careful thought, his
resolve remained unshaken.

Still, he was not without regret as he gazed out over that vast world
he had learned to love so well. The thought of possibly never seeing
it again hurt him. The wide valleys, the fair, green pastures, the
frowning, mysterious woods with their utter silence, the butting crags
with their barren crests, or snow-clad shoulders. They held him in a
thrall of almost passionate devotion. They would indeed be hard to
part with.

He looked away down the gaping jaws of the valley at the black crest
of Devil's Hill. It was a point that never failed to attract him, and
now more so than ever. Was it not round this hill that all his past
efforts had been concentrated?

He studied it. Its weirdness held him. A heavy mist enveloped its
crown, that steaming mist which ever hung above the suspended lake.
It was denser now than usual. It had been growing denser for the last
two days, and, in a vague way, he supposed that those internal fires
which heated the water were glowing fiercer than usual. He glanced up
at the sky, and almost for the first time realized the arduous efforts
of the westering sun to penetrate the densely humid atmosphere. It was
stiflingly hot, when usually the air possessed a distinct chill.

But these things possessed only a passing interest. The vagaries of
the mountain atmosphere rarely concerned him. His vigorous body was
quite impervious to its changes. He picked up his "catch" of pelts and
shouldered them. They were few enough, and as he thought of the
unusual scarcity of foxes the last few days he could not help feeling
that the circumstance was only in keeping with the rest of the passing
events of his life.

He made his way along the foot-path which wound its way through the
pine bluff, in the midst of which the old fur fort lay hidden inside
its mouldering stockade. He flung the pelts into the storeroom, and
passed on to the house, wondering if Buck had returned from the camp,
whither he knew he had been that day.

He found him busy amidst a pile of stores spread out upon the floor
and table, and a mild surprise greeted the youngster as he looked
round from his occupation.

"You never said--you were getting stores, Buck?"

The Padre eyed the pile curiously. Finally his eyes paused at the
obvious ammunition cases.

Buck follo