The youth would have lingered in spite of the cold; but the girl kept steadily on, knowing well that the hardest part of their journey was still before them, and he, though longing to ride by her side, and to enjoy the views with her, was forced to remain in the rear in order to hurry the reluctant pack-animals forward. They had now reached a point twelve thousand feet above the sea, and range beyond range, to the west and south, rose into sight like stupendous waves of a purple-green sea. To the east the park lay level as a floor and carpeted in tawny velvet.
It was nearly two o’clock when they began to drop down behind the rocky ridges of the eastern slope, and soon, in the bottom of a warm and sheltered hollow just at timber-line, Berrie drew her horse to a stand and slipped from the saddle. “We’ll rest here an hour,” she said, “and cook our grouse; or are you too hungry to wait?”
“I can wait,” he answered, dramatically. “But it seems as if I had never eaten.”
“Well, then, we’ll save the grouse till to-morrow; but I’ll make some coffee. You bring some water while I start a fire.”
And so, while the tired horses cropped the russet grass, she boiled some coffee and laid out some bread and meat, while he sat by watching her and absorbing the beauty of the scene, the charm of the hour. “It is exactly like a warm afternoon in April,” he said, “and here are some of the spring flowers.”
“There now, sit by and eat,” she said, with humor; and in perfectly restored tranquillity they ate and drank, with no thought of critics or of rivals. They were alone, and content to be so.
It was deliciously sweet and restful there in that sunny hollow on the breast of the mountain. The wind swept through the worn branches of the dwarfed spruce with immemorial wistfulness; but these young souls heard it only as a far-off song. Side by side on the soft Alpine clover they rested and talked, looking away at the shining peaks, and down over the dark-green billows of fir beneath them. Half the forest was under their eyes at the moment, and the man said: “Is it not magnificent! It makes me proud of my country. Just think, all this glorious spread of hill and valley is under your father’s direction. I may say under your direction, for I notice he does just about what you tell him to do.”
“You’ve noticed that?” she laughed. “If I were a man I’d rather be Supervisor of this forest than Congressman.”
“So would I,” he agreed. “Nash says you are the Supervisor. I wonder if your father realizes how efficient you are? Does he ever sorrow over your not being a boy?”
Her eyes shone with mirth. “Not that I can notice. He ’pears contented.”