the trailer's craft."

"I'll teach you how to camp, if you'll let me," she continued. "I've been
on lots of surveys with father, and I always take my share of the work. I
threw that hitch alone." She nodded toward the pack-horse, whose neat
load gave evidence of her skill. "I told father this was to be a real
camping expedition, and as the grouse season is on we'll live on the
country. Can you fish?"

"Just about that," he laughed. "Good thing you didn't ask me if I could
_catch_ fish?" He was recovering his spirits. "It will be great fun to
have you as instructor in camp science. I seem to be in for all kinds of
good luck."

They both grew uneasy as time passed, for fear something or some one
would intervene to prevent this trip, which grew in interest each moment;
but at last the Supervisor came out and mounted his horse, the
pack-ponies fell in behind, Berrie followed, and the student of woodcraft
brought up to rear.

"I hope it won't rain," the girl called back at him, "at least not till
we get over the divide. It's a fine ride up the hill, and the foliage is
at its best."

It seemed to him the most glorious morning of his life. A few large white
clouds were drifting like snow-laden war-vessels from west to east,
silent and solemn, and on the highest peaks a gray vapor was lightly
clinging. The near-by hills, still transcendently beautiful with the
flaming gold of the aspen, burned against the dark green of the farther
forest, and far beyond the deep purple of the shadowed slopes rose to
smoky blue and tawny yellow. It was a season, an hour, to create raptures
in a poet, so radiant, so wide-reaching, so tumultuous was the landscape.
Nothing sad, nothing discouraging, showed itself. The wind was brisk, the
air cool and clear, and jewel-like small, frost-painted vines and ripened
shrubberies blazed upward from the ground. As he rode the youth silently
repeated: "Beautiful! Beautiful!"

For several miles they rode upward through golden forests of aspens. On
either hand rose thick walls of snow-white boles, and in the mystic glow
of their gilded leaves the face of the girl shone with unearthly beauty.
It was as if the very air had become auriferous. Magic coins dangled from
the branches. Filmy shadows fell over her hair and down her strong young
arms like priceless lace. Gold, gold! Everywhere gold, gold and fire!

Twice she stopped to gaze into Wayland's face to say, with hushed
intensity: "Isn't it wonderful!