he eaves dripped upon two pack-horses waiting in the mire below, and
Tom of Okanagan, the big axeman who had been hewing with Alton when
Deringham first met him at the ranch, stood motionless with their
bridles in his hand, apparently as oblivious of the rain as the pines
behind him. Seaforth was at the head of the stairway with a pack upon
his back, and the barrel of a Marlin rifle sloped across his shoulders.
Beyond lay a blurred vista of driving rain and dripping trees.

Early as it was, Deringham and his daughter were also upon the
verandah, and the girl shivered a little as she gazed northwards into
the mist. It was a very wild and lonely region the rolling vapours
hid, and she knew the men who ventured into it at that season of the
year would find their courage and endurance tested to the uttermost.
There were but three of them, but she had discovered already that they
were a little more than average men, and a glance at their burdens and
those of the dripping beasts was as reassuring as their bearing. It
was evident that they knew what their task would be, and had prepared
for it with a thoroughness that overlooked nothing. Tents, blankets,
flour-bags, cooking utensils and hide packages were hung where man and
horse could carry them with a minimum of effort. The place for every
strap had been exactly determined, and there was an absence of concern,
and a quietness about the men that had its meaning.

Presently Seaforth descended the stairway with Deringham, Tom of
Okanagan moved forward with the horses, and Alton was left alone with
Alice Deringham. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and it was
noticeable that the girl, who knew that silence is often more
expressive than speech and had acquired some skill in avoiding
unpleasant situations, was for the moment unable to break it. It was,
Alton who spoke first, and his voice was a trifle too even.

"You will be gone when we come back?" he said.

The girl noticed he did not look at her, and fancied she understood the
reason. This was a strong man, but it seemed he knew there were limits
to his strength.

"Yes," she said. "The time we spent at Somasco has passed very
pleasantly, but we shall go down to Vancouver in a day or two."

It seemed very trivial, for Alice Deringham was quite aware that this
might be the last time she would look upon her companion, but she had
bidden farewell to men of his kind before. They had worn their
nation's khaki, and A