There was something very strong and resolute in the brisk, ready-for-emergency ways of this girl. There was nothing of the ultra-feminine dependence and weakness of her sex about her. And yet her hardiness detracted in no way from her womanly charm; rather was that complex abstract enhanced by her wonderful self-reliance. There are those who decry independence in women, but surely only such must come from those whose nature is largely composed of hectoring selfishness. There was a resolute set of the mouth as Jacky sent word to the stables to have her horse brought round. She asked no questions of her companion, as, waiting for compliance with her orders, she drew on her stout buckskin gauntlets. She understood this man well enough to be aware that his suggestion was based upon necessity. "Lord" Bill rarely interfered with anything or anybody, but when such an occasion arose his words carried a deal of weight with those who knew him.
A few minutes later and they were both riding slowly down the avenue of pines leading from the house. The direction in which they were moving was away from the settlement, down towards where the great level flat of the muskeg began. At the end of the avenue they turned directly to the southeast, leaving the township behind them. The prairie was soft and springy. There was still a keen touch of winter in the fresh spring air. The afternoon sun was shining coldly athwart the direction of their route.
Jacky led the way, and, as they drew clear of the bush, and the house and settlement were hidden from view behind them, she urged her horse into a good swinging lope. Thus they progressed in silence. The far-reaching deadly mire on their right, looking innocent enough in the shadow of the snow-clad peaks beyond, the ranch well behind them in the hollow of the Foss River Valley, whilst, on their left, the mighty prairie rolled away upwards to the higher level of the surrounding country.
In this way they covered nearly a mile, then the girl drew up beside a small clump of weedy bush.
"Are you ready for the plunge, Bill?" she asked, as her companion drew up beside her. "The path's not more than four feet wide. Does your 'plug' shy any?"
"He's all right. You lead right on. Where you can travel I've a notion I'm not likely to funk. But I don't see the path."
"I guess you don't. Never did nature keep her secret better than in the setting out of this one road across her woeful man-trap. You can't see the path, but I guess it's an open book to me, and its pages ain't Hebrew either. Say, Bill, there's been many a good prairie man looking for this path, but"—with a slight accent of exultation—"they've never found it. Come on. Old Nigger knows it; many a time has he trodden its soft and shaking surface. Good old horse!" and she patted the black neck of her charger as she turned his head towards the distant hills and urged him forward with a "chirrup."
Far across the muskeg the distant peaks of the mountain range glistened in the afternoon sun like diamond-studded sugar loaves. So high were the clouds that every portion of the mighty summits was clearly outlined. The great ramparts of the prairie are a magnificent sight on a clear day. Flat and smooth as any billiard-table stretched this silent, mysterious muskeg, already green and fair to the eye, an alluring pasture to the unwary. An experienced eye might have judged it too green—too alluring. Could a more perfect trap be devised by evil human ingenuity than this? Think for one instant of a bottomless pit of liquid soil, absorbing in its peculiar density. Think of all the horrors of a quicksand, which, embracing, sucks down into its cruel bosom the despairing victim of its insatiable greed. Think of a thin, solid crust, spread like icing upon a cake and concealing the soft, spongy matter beneath, covering every portion of the cruel plain; a crust which yields a crop of luxurious, enticing grass of the most perfect emerald hue; a crust firm in itself and dry looking, and yet not strong enough to bear the weight of a good-sized terrier. And what imagination can possibly conceive a more cruel—more perfect trap for man or beast? Woe to the creature which trusts its weight upon that treacherous crust. For one fleeting instant it will sway beneath the tread, then, in the flash of a thought, it will break, and once the surface gives no human power can save the victim. Down, down into the depths must the poor wretch be plunged, with scarce time to offer a prayer to God for the poor soul which so swiftly passes to its doom. Such is the muskeg; and surely more terrible is it than is that horror of the navigator—the quicksands.
The girl led the way without as much as a passing thought for the dangers which surrounded her. Truly had her companion said "I don't see the path," for no path was to be seen. But Jacky had learned her lesson well—and learned it from one who read the prairie as the Bedouin reads the desert. The path was there and with a wondrous assurance she followed its course.
The travelers moved silently along. No word was spoken; each was wrapped in thought. Now and again a stray prairie chicken would fly up from their path with a whirr, and speed across the mire, calling to its mate as it went. The drowsy chirrup of frogs went on unceasingly around, and already the ubiquitous mosquito was on the prowl for human gore.