Mebbe thet fight will end the
trouble. I reckon it will. Don't cross bridges till you come to them,
Ellen.... I must hurry back now. I didn't take time to unpack my
burros. Come up soon.... An', say, Ellen, don't think hard any more of
thet Jean Isbel."

Sprague strode away, and Ellen neither heard nor saw him go. She sat
perfectly motionless, yet had a strange sensation of being lifted by
invisible and mighty power. It was like movement felt in a dream. She
was being impelled upward when her body seemed immovable as stone. When
her blood beat down this deadlock of an her physical being and rushed
on and on through her veins it gave her an irresistible impulse to fly,
to sail through space, to ran and run and ran.

And on the moment the black horse, Spades, coming from the meadow,
whinnied at sight of her. Ellen leaped up and ran swiftly, but her
feet seemed to be stumbling. She hugged the horse and buried her hot
face in his mane and clung to him. Then just as violently she rushed
for her saddle and bridle and carried the heavy weight as easily as if
it had been an empty sack. Throwing them upon him, she buckled and
strapped with strong, eager hands. It never occurred to her that she
was not dressed to ride. Up she flung herself. And the horse, sensing
her spirit, plunged into strong, free gait down the canyon trail.

The ride, the action, the thrill, the sensations of violence were not
all she needed. Solitude, the empty aisles of the forest, the far
miles of lonely wilderness--were these the added all? Spades took a
swinging, rhythmic lope up the winding trail. The wind fanned her hot
face. The sting of whipping aspen branches was pleasant. A deep
rumble of thunder shook the sultry air. Up beyond the green slope of
the canyon massed the creamy clouds, shading darker and darker. Spades
loped on the levels, leaped the washes, trotted over the rocky ground,
and took to a walk up the long slope. Ellen dropped the reins over the
pommel. Her hands could not stay set on anything. They pressed her
breast and flew out to caress the white aspens and to tear at the maple
leaves, and gather the lavender juniper berries, and came back again to
her heart. Her heart that was going to burst or break! As it had
swelled, so now it labored. It could not keep pace with her needs. All
that was physical, all that was living in her had to be unleashed.

Spades gained the level forest. How the great, brown-green