our efforts. One of our
best horses died and another fell over a precipice. Hay was hardly to be
bought with money, provisions only at an exorbitant cost, and though we
received a few interim payments it was, as Johnston said, even chances
either way if we kept on top, because every day of enforced idleness cost
us many dollars. However, floundering through snow-slush, swinging the axe
in driving sleet and rain, or hauling the mossy logs through the mire of a
sudden thaw, we persisted in our task, though often at nights we sat
inside the shanty, which was filled with steaming garments, counting the
cost, in a state of gloomy despondency. Except for the thought of Grace,
there were moments when I might have yielded; but we were always an
obstinate race, and seeing that I was steadfastly determined to hold out
to the last, the others gallantly aided me. Now, when the time of stress
is past, I know how much I owe to their loyalty.

At length, however, the winter drew to an end, and the whole mountain
region rejoiced at the coming of the spring. A warm wind from the Pacific
set the cedars rustling, the sun shone bright and hot, and the open fringe
of the forest was garlanded with flowers, while a torrent made wild music
in every ravine. I was sitting outside our shanty one morning smoking a
pet English briar, whose stem was bitten half-way, and reveling in the
warmth and brightness, when the unexpected happened. By degrees, perhaps
under the spell of some influence which stirs us when sleeping nature
awakens once more to life, I lost myself in reverie, and recalled drowsily
a certain deep, oak-shrouded hollow under the Lancashire hills, where at
that season pale yellow stars of primroses peeped out among the fresh
green of tender leaves. Then the bald heights of Starcross Moor rose up
before me, and Grace came lightly across the heather chanting a song, with
her hat flung back, and the west wind kissing her face into delicate
color, until a tramp of footsteps drew nearer down the track.

A man, who evidently was neither a bush-rancher nor a railroad hand,
approached and said with a pure English accent:

"I'm in a difficulty, and it was suggested that Contractor Lorimer might
help me. I presume I have the pleasure of addressing him? My name is
Calvert."

"I will if I can," I answered, and the stranger continued:

"It's my duty to escort two ladies from the main line into the Lonsdale
valley. They have a quantity of bagg