the man of the forest-第28节

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she　worked　helping　Dale　at　camp…fire　tasks；　and　when　night
came　she　said　she　did　not　know　herself。　　That　fact　haunted
her　in　vague；　deep　dreams。　　Upon　awakening　she　forgot　her
resolve　to　study　herself。　　That　day　passed。　　And　then　several
more　went　swiftly　before　she　adapted　herself　to　a　situation
she　had　reason　to　believe　might　last　for　weeks　and　even　months。


It　was　afternoon　that　Helen　loved　best　of　all　the　time　of
the　day。　　The　sunrise　was　fresh；　beautiful；　the　morning　was
windy；　fragrant；　the　sunset　was　rosy；　glorious；　the　twilight
was　sad；　changing；　and　night　seemed　infinitely　sweet　with
its　stars　and　silence　and　sleep。　　But　the　afternoon；　when
nothing　changed；　when　all　was　serene；　when　time　seemed　to
halt；　that　was　her　choice；　and　her　solace。

One　afternoon　she　had　camp　all　to　herself。　　Bo　was　riding。
Dale　had　climbed　the　mountain　to　see　if　he　could　find　any
trace　of　tracks　or　see　any　smoke　from　camp…fire。　　Bud　was
nowhere　to　be　seen；　nor　any　of　the　other　pets。　　Tom　had　gone
off　to　some　sunny　ledge　where　he　could　bask　in　the　sun；
after　the　habit　of　the　wilder　brothers　of　his　species。　　Pedro
had　not　been　seen　for　a　night　and　a　day；　a　fact　that　Helen
had　noted　with　concern。　　However；　she　had　forgotten　him；　and
therefore　was　the　more　surprised　to　see　him　coming　limping
into　camp　on　three　legs。

〃Why；　Pedro！　　You　have　been　fighting。　　Come　here；〃　she　called。

The　hound　did　not　look　guilty。　　He　limped　to　her　and　held　up
his　right　fore　paw。　　The　action　was　unmistakable。　　Helen
examined　the　injured　member　and　presently　found　a　piece　of
what　looked　like　mussel…shell　embedded　deeply　between　the
toes。　　The　wound　was　swollen；　bloody；　and　evidently　very
painful。　　Pedro　whined。　　Helen　had　to　exert　all　the　strength
of　her　fingers　to　pull　it　out。　　Then　Pedro　howled。　　But
immediately　he　showed　his　gratitude　by　licking　her　hand。
Helen　bathed　his　paw　and　bound　it　up。

When　Dale　returned　she　related　the　incident　and；　showing　the
piece　of　shell；　she　asked：　〃Where　did　that　come　from　？　　Are
there　shells　in　the　mountains？〃

〃Once　this　country　was　under　the　sea；〃　replied　Dale。　　〃I've
found　things　that　'd　make　you　wonder。〃

〃Under　the　sea！〃　ejaculated　Helen。　　It　was　one　thing　to　have
read　of　such　a　strange　fact；　but　a　vastly　different　one　to
realize　it　here　among　these　lofty　peaks。　　Dale　was　always
showing　her　something　or　telling　her　something　that
astounded　her。

〃Look　here；〃　he　said　one　day。　　〃What　do　you　make　of　that
little　bunch　of　aspens？〃

They　were　on　the　farther　side　of　the　park　and　were　resting
under　a　pine…tree。　　The　forest　here　encroached　upon　the　park
with　its　straggling　lines　of　spruce　and　groves　of　aspen。　　The
little　clump　of　aspens　did　not　differ　from　hundreds　Helen
had　seen。

〃I　don't　make　anything　particularly　of　it；〃　replied　Helen；
dubiously。　　〃Just　a　tiny　grove　of　aspens　　some　very　small；
some　larger；　but　none　very　big。　　But　it's　pretty　with　its
green　and　yellow　leaves　fluttering　and　quivering。〃

〃It　doesn't　make　you　think　of　a　fight？〃

〃Fight？　　No；　it　certainly　does　not；〃　replied　Helen。

〃Well；　it's　as　good　an　example　of　fight；　of　strife；　of
selfishness；　as　you　will　find　in　the　forest；〃　he　said。　　〃Now
come　over；　you　an'　Bo；　an'　let　me　show　you　what　I　mean。〃

〃Come　on；　Nell；〃　cried　Bo；　with　enthusiasm。　　〃He'll　open　our
eyes　some　more。〃

Nothing　loath；　Helen　went　with　them　to　the　little　clump　of
aspens。

〃About　a　hundred　altogether；〃　said　Dale。　　〃They're　pretty
well　shaded　by　the　spruces；　but　they　get　the　sunlight　from
east　an'　south。　　These　little　trees　all　came　from　the　same
seedlings。　　They're　all　the　same　age。　　Four　of　them　stand；
say；　ten　feet　or　more　high　an'　they're　as　large　around　as　my
wrist。　　Here's　one　that's　largest。　　See　how　full…foliaged　he
is　　how　he　stands　over　most　of　the　others；　but　not　so　much
over　these　four　next　to　him。　　They　all　stand　close　together；
very　close；　you　see。　　Most　of　them　are　no　larger　than　my
thumb。　　Look　how　few　branches　they　have；　an'　none　low　down。
Look　at　how　few　leaves。　　Do　you　see　how　all　the　branches
stand　out　toward　the　east　an'　south　　how　the　leaves；　of
course；　face　the　same　way？　　See　how　one　branch　of　one　tree
bends　aside　one　from　another　tree。　　That's　a　fight　for　the
sunlight。　　Here　are　one　　two　　three　dead　trees。　　Look；　I
can　snap　them　off　。　　An'　now　look　down　under　them。　　Here　are
little　trees　five　feet　high　　four　feet　high　　down　to
these　only　a　foot　high。　　Look　how　pale；　delicate；　fragile；
unhealthy！　　They　get　so　little　sunshine。　　They　were　born　with
the　other　trees；　but　did　not　get　an　equal　start。　　Position
gives　the　advantage；　perhaps。〃

Dale　led　the　girls　around　the　little　grove；　illustrating　his
words　by　action。　　He　seemed　deeply　in　earnest。

〃You　understand　it's　a　fight　for　water　an'　sun。　　But　mostly
sun；　because；　if　the　leaves　can　absorb　the　sun；　the　tree　an'
roots　will　grow　to　grasp　the　needed　moisture。　　Shade　is　death
　slow　death　to　the　life　of　trees。　　These　little　aspens　are
fightin'　for　place　in　the　sunlight。　　It　is　a　merciless
battle。　　They　push　an'　bend　one　another's　branches　aside　an'
choke　them。　　Only　perhaps　half　of　these　aspens　will　survive；
to　make　one　of　the　larger　clumps；　such　as　that　one　of
full…grown　trees　over　there。　　One　season　will　give　advantage
to　this　saplin'　an'　next　year　to　that　one。　　A　few　seasons'
advantage　to　one　assures　its　dominance　over　the　others。　　But
it　is　never　sure　of　holdin'　that　dominance。　　An　'if　wind　or
storm　or　a　strong…growin'　rival　does　not　overthrow　it；　then
sooner　or　later　old　age　will。　　For　there　is　absolute　and
continual　fight。　　What　is　true　of　these　aspens　is　true　of　all
the　trees　in　the　forest　an'　of　all　plant　life　in　the　forest。
What　is　most　wonderful　to　me　is　the　tenacity　of　life。〃

And　next　day　Dale　showed　them　an　even　more　striking　example
of　this　mystery　of　nature。

He　guided　them　on　horseback　up　one　of　the　thick；
verdant…wooded　slopes；　calling　their　attention　at　various
times　to　the　different　growths；　until　they　emerged　on　the
summit　of　the　ridge　where　the　timber　grew　scant　and　dwarfed。
At　the　edge　of　timber…line　he　showed　a　gnarled　and　knotted
spruce…tree；　twisted　out　of　all　semblance　to　a　beautiful
spruce；　bent　and　storm…blasted；　with　almost　bare　branches；
all　reaching　one'　way。　　The　tree　was　a　specter。　　It　stood
alone。　　It　had　little　green　upon　it。　　There　seemed　something
tragic　about　its　contortions。　　But　it　was　alive　and　strong。
It　had　no　rivals　to　take　sun　or　moisture。　　Its　enemies　were
the　snow　and　wind　and　cold　of　the　heights。

Helen　felt；　as　the　realization　came　to　her；　the　knowledge
Dale　wished　to　impart；　that　it　was　as　sad　as　wonderful；　and
as　mysterious　as　it　was　inspiring。　　At　that　moment　there　were
both　the　sting　and　sweetness　of　life　　the　pain　and　the　joy
　in　Helen's　heart。　　These　strange　facts　were　going　to　teach
her　　to　transform　her。　　And　even　if　they　hurt；　she　welcomed
them。



CHAPTER　XI

〃I'll　ride　you　if　it　breaks　　my　neck！〃　panted　Bo；
passionately；　shaking　her　gloved　fist　at　the　gray　pony。

Dale　stood　near　with　a　broad　smile　on　his　face。　　Helen　was
within　earshot；　watching　from　the　edge　of　the　park；　and　she
felt　so　fascinated　and　frightened　that　she　could　not　call
out　for　Bo　to　stop。　　The　little　gray　mustang　was　a　beauty；
clean…limbed　and　racy；　with　long　black　mane　and　tail；　and　a
fine；　spirited　head。　　There　was　a　blanket　strapped　on　his
back；　but　no　saddle。　　Bo　held　the　short　halter　that　had　been
fastened　in　a　hackamore　knot　round　his　nose。　　She　wore　no
coat；　her　blouse　was　covered　with　grass　and　seeds；　and　it
was　open　at　the　neck；　her　hair　hung　loose　and　disheveled；
one　side　of　her　face　bore　a　stain　of　grass　and　dirt　and　a
suspicion　of　blood；　the　other　was　red　and　white；　her　eyes
blazed；　beads　of　sweat　stood　out　on　her　brow　and　wet　places
shone　on　her　cheeks。　　As　she　began　to　strain　on　the　halter；
pulling　herself　closer　to　the　fiery　pony；　the　outline　of　her
slender　shape　stood　out　lithe　and　strong。

Bo　had　been　defeated　in　her　cherished　and　determined
ambition　to　ride　Dale's　mustang；　and　she　was　furious。　　The
mustang　did　not　appear　to　be　vicious　or　mean。　　But　he　was
spirited；　tricky；　mischievous；　and　he　had　thrown　her　six
times。　　The　scene　of　Bo's　defeat　was　at　the　edge　of　the　park；
where　thick　moss　and　grass　afforded　soft　places　for　her　to
fall。　　It　also　afforded　poor　foothold　for　the　gray　mustang；
obviously　placing　him　at　a　disadvantage。　　Dale　did　not　bridle
him；　because　he　had　not　been　broken　to　a　bridle；　and　though
it　was　harder　for　Bo　to　try　to　ride　him　bareback；　there　was
less　risk　of　her　being　hurt。　　Bo　had　begun　in　all　eagerness
and　enthusiasm；　loving　and　petting　the　mustang；　which　she
named　〃Pony。〃　She　had　evidently　anticipated　an　adventure；
but　her　smiling；　resolute　face　had　denoted　confidence。　　Pony
had　stood　fairly　well　to　be　mounted；　and　then　had　pitched
and　tossed　until　Bo　had　slid　off　or　been　upset　or　thrown。
After　each　fall　Bo　bounced　up　with　less　of　a　smile；　and　more
of　spirit；　until　now　the　Western　passion　to　master　a　horse
had　suddenly　leaped　to　life　within　her。　　It　was　no　longer
fun；　no　more　a　daring　circus　trick　to　scare　Helen　and　rouse
Dale's　admiration。　　The　issue　now　lay　between　Bo　and　the
musta