Sure enough, he now saw a horse and rider on the highest point etched in miniature against the dark green woods. Douglas waved a handkerchief, and Donald caught a flutter of white from the dizzy promontory. His mind was filled with conjectures. Why was she there? Had she still a kindly feeling for him despite last night’s exposure?
Janet could not herself have explained her reason for being there. She was up early, stole quietly to the stable, saddled her horse and rode to the Park. Riding steadily all the morning, she had battled with herself, had summoned all her courage to resist the spell this strange young man held over her, only to find that her will was impotent.
As she now waved her handkerchief she strained her eyes in a vain effort to single out Donald’s tall form. Suddenly a feeling of shame for her weakness came over her. “Can’t you forget him?” she asked herself irritably. “A prize-fighter!” Whirling her horse about she galloped swiftly toward the City.
The Rennie C. & L. Co. were already operating trains to Cheakamus, twelve miles from the Coast. An engine with two coaches was waiting to convey the passengers—chiefly labourers carrying blankets—to “the end of steel.”
At Cheakamus the atmosphere was tense with activity. Engines shunted back and forth; the scream of a big circular saw came from a mill that was turning huge fir logs into ties; mule-skinners shouted as they backed their heavy wagons to the platform to be loaded with supplies. At both sides of the track were huge piles of ties, lumber and rails. The newly-arrived labourers hoisted their packs to their backs and set off up the road.
It was plain that this settlement was not built for permanency; it was a typical mushroom town. The rough board buildings still retained the colour of green lumber. Heaps of tin cans, piles of waste lumber, and the various parts of broken wagons littered the ground. The picturesqueness that Donald had expected to find in this wilderness camp was lacking, but he was vastly thrilled by the stupendous power exhibited in the combined forces of men and machinery.
From up the line came the roar of a terrific blast that made the ground tremble and sent rumbling echoes through the valley. A whole train-load of logs were dumped into the millpond with a crash that sent the water in a hissing wave that struck the opposite shore and exploded in a seething mass of dirty white foam. The air seemed charged with a dynamic energy which caused the blood to tingle in the veins.
In the yard of a stable a number of horses lay on the ground or stood weakly with drooping heads.
“Horse hospital,” informed Gillis, to Donald’s inquiry.