"S-see here, boy," said Strong, as he put his fingers under Socky's chin and raised his head' a little, "I w-won't never swear ag'in if y-you won't."
He held out his great hand and Socky took it.
"Y-you agree?"
Socky nodded with a serious look, and so it happened that Silas became the master of his own tongue. He had "boiled over" for the last time—so he thought. The old habit which had grown out of a thousand trials and difficulties must give way, and henceforth he would be emperor of his own spirit.
As to the fire and the man who had fled before him, Strong was perplexed, but kept his own counsel. He knew that the law permitted lumbermen to enter burned lands on the State preserve and take all timber which fire had damaged. A fire which might only have scorched the trunks while it devoured the crowns above them gave a rich harvest to some lucky lumberman. Having gained access, he stripped the earth, helping himself to the living as well as the dead trees. Fire, therefore, had become a source of profit wherein lay the temptation to kindle it.
Silas Strong knew that his land of refuge was doomed—that the forerunner of its desolation was even then hiding somewhere in the near, dusky woods. He thought of the peril after a dry summer. The mould of the forest would burn like tinder.
The dethroned Emperor reached the shore of Rainbow, put up a tent, and helped to get supper ready. After supper he lay down to rest in the firelight, and told the children about the great bear and the panther-bird. Sinth, weary after that long day of travel, had gone to sleep. After an hour or so Strong rose and looked down at her.
"Sh-sh!—don't w-wake her," he warned them. "I'll put ye t' b-bed."
He helped them undress.
"You'll have to hear our prayers," Socky whispered.