he'll either jump the track or
rush her through it. He's backing her out now for the first lead."

With a clang of the bell to warn us off the line, the coupled engines
slowly shoved the long train back the way they had come. Then the roar of
blown-off steam grew still, and with loud blasts from the funnels that
rapidly quickened they swept again down the slight grade like snorting
giants, the huge head-lamp casting a blaze of radiance before them. It
went out suddenly; I heard the thud of a soft but heavy shock, and long
waves of whiteness curled up, while above it there was a hurling aloft of
red sparks from the twin funnels. Then the tail-light glimmered more
brightly as it returned again, and we looked into the steep hollow with
rammed-back slopes out of which the engines backed slowly.

"She'll do it sure next time," said the passenger. "Grant's going right
back to Winnipeg to get on speed enough;" and under an eddying blast of
steam the massive locomotives charged past us once more, while I felt a
thrill as I watched them, and envied Grant, the engineer. It was something
to hold that power in the hollow of one's hand. Thick white powder whirled
aloft like smoke before them, a filmy wavy mass that seemed alive rolled
aside, while presently the whistle boomed in triumph, and there was an
exultant shout from the passengers, for steam had vanquished the snow, and
the road lay open before us. Blundering down the gap they had made I
climbed on board the train, colder than ever. As my new friend seemed a
native of the neighborhood, I asked him whether he knew the farmer to whom
I was going to offer my services.

He laughed as he answered: "I ought to. Beat me badly over a deal in stock
he did. Old Coombs is a Britisher, and a precious low-grade specimen. Dare
say he'll take you, but stick him for half as much again as he offers you,
and bargain _ex_ harvest--you'll get double wages anywhere then--see? How
does this great country strike you--don't think much of it?--well, go slow
and steady and it will grow on you. It's good enough for me, and I was
raised on the best land in Ontario."

This was not encouraging, but I knew that most beginnings are unpleasant,
and I went shivering to sleep until in the gray twilight of what might
have been a mid-winter dawn a blast of the whistle awakened me and the
brakes began to scream. The train ran slowly past an edifice resembling a
sod stable with one light in it, stopped, and the