CHAPTER XXII

  THE CABIN IN THE HILLS

  Glen's fears and forebodings of the previous night passed away as sherode Midnight along the trail on that beautiful summer morning. For atime a feeling of security filled her heart. Was she not well guardedby her father, her lover, and two reliable Indians, Sconda and Natsu!Why should she fear? Curly was evidently at Big Draw, and sodiscouraged over his reception at Glen West that he would hardlyventure near the place again. It was a bright happy face that sheturned to Reynolds as he rode by her side wherever the trail permittedtheir horses to ride abreast. They rejoiced in each other's company,and words were unnecessary, for love has a silent language all its own.

  Jim Weston rode ahead, while the two Indians brought up in the rear.The horses which the natives rode bore a few extra provisions forseveral days' outing, such as tea, coffee, sugar, flour, and a supplyof canned goods.

  Glen rode Midnight gracefully. She was dressed the same as on the dayReynolds first saw her on Crooked Trail. She was perfectly at home inthe saddle, and what to Reynolds was difficult riding to her was apleasure. At times she smiled at his awkwardness as he tried tomaintain his position where the trail was unusually rough and steep.

  "You are better with the rifle, are you not?" Glen bantered.

  "I certainly am," was the reply. "I have had very little experience onhorse back. I wish I could ride like you, for you are so much at ease."

  "I should be," and again the girl smiled. "I cannot remember the timewhen I did not know how to ride. But, then, you have not seen me at mybest. Sconda has, though, and he knows that I can hold my own with themost expert rider. Oh, it's great when you're going like the wind,clearing rocks and fallen trees with tremendous bounds. Midnightunderstands, don't you, old boy?" and she affectionately patted thehorse's glossy neck.

  Reynolds watched the girl with deep admiration. He felt that her wordswere no mere idle boast, and he longed to see an exhibition of herskilful riding.

  At noon they stopped by the side of a little stream which flowed outfrom under the Golden Crest, and ate their luncheon.

  "We shall have a great dinner to-night," Weston informed them. "Wemust do honor to such an occasion as this."

  "And if we can find Frontier Samson, all the merrier," Reynolds replied.

  "Sure, sure, we must find the old man," Weston agreed. "But, then,it's unnecessary to worry about him. He's all right, never fear,though no doubt he is somewhat anxious about his runaway partner."

  The ruler of Glen West was in excellent spirits. Glen had never seenhim so animated, and at luncheon he joked and laughed in the mostbuoyant manner. During the afternoon he pointed out to his companionsnumerous outstanding features of nature's wonderful handiwork. Attimes he would look back, and draw their attention to a peculiar rockformation, a small lake lying cool and placid amidst the hills, or tosome beautiful northern flowers by the side of the trail. Thus theafternoon passed quickly and pleasantly, and evening found them beforethe little cabin in the hills.

  It was a beautiful spot where Weston had erected his forest habitation.The cabin nestled on the shore of a very fine lake. At the back stoodthe trees, which came almost to the door. The building was composedentirely of logs, and contained a small kitchen, two bed-rooms, and aliving-room. A stone fire-place had been built at one end of thelatter, while the walls were adorned with trophies of the chase. Booksof various kinds filled several shelves, and magazines and newspaperswere piled upon a side-table. It was a most cozy abode, and Weston wasgreatly pleased at the interest Glen and Reynolds took in everything.

  "My, I should like to spend a few weeks here," Reynolds remarked, as heexamined the books. "What a grand time one could have reading andmeditating. You have a fine collection, sir," and he turned to Weston,who was standing near.

  "I bring only the masters here," was the reply. "One cannot afford topack useless truck over the trail. In a place such as this the mind isnaturally reflective, and one craves for things that are old and firmlyestablished."

  "But what about those?" and Reynolds pointed to the magazines andnewspapers.

  "Oh, they have their place, too," and Weston smiled. "Even in thewilderness a man should not lose touch with the busy world outside. Iconsider that the study of the past and present should go together. Bykeeping abreast of the times one can form some idea how the world isprogressing, and by reading the masters of other days one can interpretall the better the problems of the present."

  While Weston and Reynolds discussed the books, Glen was busily engagedsetting the table for supper. Natsu had taken the horses down to thewild meadow some distance away, and Sconda was in the kitchen. Thelatter was an excellent cook, and prided himself upon his ability toprovide a most delicious repast, whether of moose meat or fried salmon.It was the latter he was preparing this evening, the fish having beenbrought from Glen West. Several loaves of fresh white bread, made thenight before, had been provided by Nannie, as well as some choice cakeand preserves.

  In a little less than an hour supper was ready, and Glen took her placeat the head of the table. Cloth for the table there was none, but therough boards were spotlessly clean. The dishes were coarse, and allthe dainty accessories of a modern household were wanting. ButReynolds never enjoyed a meal as he did that one in the little cabin bythe mirroring lake. To him it was the girl who supplied all that waslacking. She performed her humble duties as hostess with the samegrace as if presiding at a fashionable repast in the heart ofcivilization. He noted the happy expression in her eyes, and the richcolor which mantled her cheeks whenever she met his ardent gaze.

  Glen was happier than she had ever been in her life, and while herfather and Reynolds talked, she paid little attention to what they weresaying. She was thinking of the great change which had come over herfather during the last few days. He had made no reference to herconfession of love for the young man, for which she was most thankful.She believed that he liked Reynolds, and found in him a companion afterhis own heart. Her cares had been suddenly lifted, for in the presenceof the two men she loved her fears and forebodings were forgotten.

  After supper they sat for a while in front of the cabin. The mensmoked and chatted. It was a perfect night, and not at all dark, for ayoung moon was riding over the hills. Not a ripple ruffled the surfaceof the lake, and the great forest lay silent and mysterious around.Weston told several stories of his experiences in the wilderness,especially of his encounter with a grizzly.

  "I am very proud of the final shot which brought the brute down," hesaid in conclusion. "I wish you both could have seen it."

  "I do not believe it was any finer than the one which brought mygrizzly down," Glen challenged. "You should have seen that, daddy. Itwas wonderful!"

  "Where did you learn to shoot so well?" Weston asked, turning toReynolds.

  "Over in France. I was a sharpshooter for a while."

  "Well, that is interesting," and Weston blew a cloud of smoke into theair, while his eyes wandered off across the lake. "Had some livelyexperiences, I suppose?"

  "Yes, at times. But, then, no more than others. All did their share,and did it the best they could."

  "Did you get anything; that is, were you wounded?"

  "I have a number of scars; that's all," was the modest reply.

  "And were you decorated? Did you receive a medal?" Glen eagerlyenquired. She had often wished to ask that question, but had hithertohesitated. She had fondly dreamed that her lover was a hero of morethan ordinary metal, and had carried off special honors. But he was soreserved about what he had done that never until the present moment hadshe found courage to voice the question.

  Reynolds did not at once reply. It was not his nature to make adisplay of his accomplishments. He thought of the two medals securelyfastened in his pocket. They were the only treasures he had broughtwith him. All else he had left behind. But he could not part with themedals which meant so much to him. He had not brought them fo
rexhibition, but for encouragement in times of depression and trouble.In his terrible wanderings in the wilderness he had thought of them,and had been inspired. But why should he not show them now? he askedhimself. It would please Glen, he was sure, and the medals would tellher father that he was no coward.

  "I have something which you might like to see," he at length replied,touching his breast with his hand. "But perhaps we had better goinside, as it is getting dark out here."

  "When once within the cabin, Reynolds brought forth his two medals andlaid them upon the table. Eagerly Glen picked up one, and examined itby the light of the shaded lamp.

  "'For Distinguished Conduct on the Field,'" she read. "Oh, isn't itgreat! I knew that you had done something wonderful," and she turnedher sparkling eyes to her lover's face. "What is the other one for,daddy?" she asked, for her father was examining it intently.

  "This is 'For Bravery on the Field,'" Weston read. "Allow me tocongratulate you, young man," and he grasped Reynolds by the hand. "Iam so thankful now that I did not submit such a man as you to theOrdeal."

  Reynolds smiled, although, he was considerably confused.

  "You reserved it for this moment, I suppose," he replied. "This issomewhat of an ordeal to me."

  "Then, let me increase your agony," and Glen's eyes twinkled as she,too, held out her hand.

  Reynolds took her firm, brown hand in his, and held it tight. He foundit difficult to control himself. How he longed to stoop, clasp her inhis arms, and take his toll from those smiling lips. That would havebeen the best congratulation of all. He merely bowed, however, andremained silent. His heart was beating rapidly, and his bronzed facewas flushed.

  "Suppose you tell us some of your experiences at the Front," Westonsuggested, divining the cause of the young man's confusion. "It hasnot been my fortune to meet anyone who has come through what you have,and I am sure Glen will enjoy it as well as myself."

  Although somewhat loath to tell of his adventures, Reynolds could notvery well refuse such a request, so, seating himself, he simply relatedthe story of his service under arms. He said as little as possibleabout his own part in the fray, and touched but lightly upon the sceneswherein he had won his special decorations. Weston, sitting by hisside, listened as a man in a dream. At times a deep sigh escaped hislips, for he himself had ardently longed to enlist, but had beenrejected owing to his age.

  Not a word of the tale did Glen miss. With her arms upon the table,and her hands supporting her cheeks, she kept her eyes fixed earnestlyupon her lover's face. Her bashfulness had departed, and she only sawin the young man across the table her ideal type of a hero. She had norealization of the beautiful picture she presented, with the lightfalling softly upon her hair and animated, face. But Reynolds knew,and as his eyes met hers, he became slightly confused, and hesitated inhis story. What a reward, he told himself, for all that he hadendured. He had been happy when the decorations were pinned upon hisbreast. But that reward was nothing, and the medals mere baublescompared to the joy he was experiencing now. If the love of such awoman had been his during the long, weary campaign, what might he nothave accomplished? How he would have been inspired to do and to dare,and in addition to those medals there might have been the covetedVictoria Cross.

  "Oh, I wish I were a man!" Glen fervently declared when Reynolds hadfinished his tale. "How I would like to have been 'over there.' Youneedn't smile, daddy," she continued. "I know you consider me foolish,but I mean every word I say."

  "I understand, dear," was the quiet reply. "I know just how you feel,for it is only natural. However, I am glad that you are not a man, foryou are of greater comfort to me because you are a girl. But, there, Ithink we have talked enough for to-night. You both must be tired afterto-day's journey, and we have a hard trip ahead of us to-morrow."

 
H. A. Cody's Novels