Dick's Desertion: A Boy's Adventures in Canadian Forests / A Tale of the Early Settlement of Ontario

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eaves looked browner, each furred at the edge with a delicate fringe of hoar-frost; and the newly risen sun strove as yet in vain to send some heat through the faint, cold haze. It was more penetratingly chill than

r quaint foreign name. Already she looked older than Dick, for her eyes were grave, and her mouth had taken a firm,

man, plunged in a lethargy of remorse and disappointment which threatened never to lighten. Since her mother's death, life would have been almost unendurable to Stephanie had it not been for two things: these were the passionate affection existing between herself and Dick, and her intense love for and kinship with nature. All her scanty hours of idleness she spent roa

cawed above the trees, but no longer could Stephanie hear the innumerable small twitterings and tentative songs of a morning in the summer. The forest wa

k as of a blade being wrenched away. It forced itself on Stephanie's attention, growing louder and fainter as slight breaths of wind moved the hazy air, but never ceasing in its cont

the chipmunk out of his hole. The chipmunk had been a friend of hers, and she used to drop acorns at the foot of the tree where he might find them. Vaguely she wondered whether she would recognise the little fellow again if she saw him in some other tree, and concluded that it was scarcely

hty crash. Stephanie knew that the tree was down, and an odd little feeling of regret came over her; once more

d sure a step as a young deer might use. Her face was grey and drawn with the sense of coming disaster, but neither her feet nor her breath f

step and almost fell, but recovered and ran on, though f

at her brother's agonised face, and at the great branch torn from a neighbouring maple, which told all the terrible tale. Somewhere in the silent woods a chipmunk chattered shrilly, and she wondered when it would stop,

e branch had struck him at the base of the head. But he appeared to be still living; and what were they to do for the best? A feeling of their utter loneliness swept over her, br

feet again, with dimmed eyes and trembling lips, but strong to do and to endure. She seemed almost to hav

and harness Murphy. We must t

nclined boards until his inert body rested safely in the cart; and then fleet-footed Stephanie ran back to the cabin for all the coverings and pillows in their poor store. Before half-an-hour had passed, the clumsy conveyance was creaking down the rough old Indian trail

ead their father would be certain to receive the tenderest care, and perhaps medical attendance if things turned out fortunately. Bu

ptain began slowly to regain consciousness, and his first questi

rees. But the injured man shook his head. "It is no use, my dears," he said feebly, "another two miles would kill me at once. And I must die where she d

e he relapsed into unconsciousness, muttering fragments of old orders which he had given as captain of

sons-for if he will not be taken to help, help must be brought to him. I shall be able to take two or three short cu

hy round. With a last hurried look, Dick plunged rapidly into the bushes at the side of the trail, and she cou

reached home, she had to face a new difficulty. She could not, unaided, lift her father from the cart. So she backed it into a sheltered place among the trees, and brough

g helpless vigil beside the cart, knowing that there was nothing she could do. If only Dick were there! The shadows grew long and longer, and still the Captain lay motionless in the cart beneath the great trees; and still Stephanie kept her patient watch beside him. Only once did her father spe

hers, father," said Ste

ft, poor brave little hands. But their touch is

ence, though Stephanie did not know it. And still she sat beside the