As he walked slowly back within the glare of the camp-fire, it was apparent that he was a man past middle life, of grave and dignified appearance; the lines of care, on his still handsome face, were deepened as if by grief as he seated himself by a tree, away from the glare of the light.
As he sat thus—lost in reverie—Maud came softly by, and, passing her hand over his hair in a caressing way, said:—
"What a lovely country this is! I am charmed with it already."
"Yes, Maud, my daughter, it is a fertile and picturesque region; but it will be hard to inure myself to living on this spot, for it is haunted by very bitter memories."
"Oh, it is sad, indeed, to think of the fate of Bruce and his graceful bride; but we will deck their grave with flowers, and I shall never cease to grieve for them," she said, dropping a kiss on her father's cheek, then hurrying away to the camp-fire.
He was roused from his gloomy reverie, a few minutes later, by his wife, who came to his side, and, as her hand rested fondly on his shoulder, she said, in a sweet voice of womanly sympathy, in which could be traced a sub-tone of strength and resolution:—
"George, dear, this is no time for repining; instead we should feel happy and grateful that we have found such a delightful country as this in which to select our future home. Oh, this valley is more beautiful than even my wildest dreams had ever pictured. I had felt apprehensive, husband, that your impressions of this place had been colored by your youthful enthusiasm of twenty, and own that I had made ample allowance for the quarter of a century which has passed since then; but it is certainly the most charming spot I have ever beheld."
"My dear, brave wife," he replied joyfully, "you lift a heavy burden from my heart; we will select a home near here early Monday morning, and begin building at once. I shall leave the selection with you, Mary, however."
"Oh, we are too late," she replied, with a cheerful smile. "Robbie has found the spot already; he has just returned from down the valley, where Scott Moreland and himself had driven the stock, and they report having found a perfect paradise. They are both boiling over with enthusiasm, and are bareheaded, having left their hats hanging on trees to mark the location of their respective 'claims,' and when I left the camp-fire they were inveighing against the injustice of a law that would not permit fifteen-year-old boys to take a 'homestead.'"
In a more cheerful mood the couple now sought the camp-fire, which was surrounded by more than a dozen persons of both sexes, all animated and happy over the termination of their long and toilsome journey.