d I could see my dreams coming
true, and I was ready for something to happen 'most any time. And it
did.

"'And that first camp, on the island! And the boys spearing fish in the
mouth of the creek, and the big deer one of the bucks shot just around
the point. And there were flowers everywhere, and in back from the beach
the grass was thick and lush and neck-high. And some of the girls went
through this with me, and we climbed the hillside behind and picked
berries and roots that tasted sour and were good to eat. And we came
upon a big bear in the berries making his supper, and he said "Oof!" and
ran away as scared as we were. And then the camp, and the camp smoke,
and the smell of fresh venison cooking. It was beautiful. I was with the
night-born at last, and I knew that was where I belonged. And for the
first time in my life, it seemed to me, I went to bed happy that night,
looking out under a corner of the canvas at the stars cut off black by a
big shoulder of mountain, and listening to the night-noises, and knowing
that the same thing would go on next day and forever and ever, for I
wasn't going back. And I never did go back.'

"'Romance! I got it next day. We had to cross a big arm of the
ocean--twelve or fifteen miles, at least; and it came on to blow when we
were in the middle. That night I was along on shore, with one wolf-dog,
and I was the only one left alive.'

"Picture it yourself," Trefethan broke off to say. "The canoe was
wrecked and lost, and everybody pounded to death on the rocks except
her. She went ashore hanging on to a dog's tail, escaping the rocks and
washing up on a tiny beach, the only one in miles.

"'Lucky for me it was the mainland,' she said. 'So I headed right away
back, through the woods and over the mountains and straight on anywhere.
Seemed I was looking for something and knew I'd find it. I wasn't
afraid. I was night-born, and the big timber couldn't kill me. And on
the second day I found it. I came upon a small clearing and a tumbledown
cabin. Nobody had been there for years and years. The roof had fallen
in. Rotted blankets lay in the bunks, and pots and pans were on the
stove. But that was not the most curious thing. Outside, along the
edge of the trees, you can't guess what I found. The skeletons of eight
horses, each tied to a tree. They had starved to death, I reckon, and
left only little piles of bones scattered some here and there. And each
horse had had a load on its back.