6 "I want you to estimate every white pine standing within the boundary lines which Langton ran last summer,' said the walking boss, and put an ax mark on every tree that will make square timber. We want to know what we've got up there within a thousand feet.' "Of course, that meant weeks of hard traveling, but the snowshoeing was good, and we were allowed to hire two Indians to make camp and cook and haul the flat sleds. "We traveled together from Wanosing to that valley down there, and we separated at that old dead pine. Renault and his Indian went east and I went west with my Indian. When we had finished our work we were to meet at the dead pine and travel back to Wanosing together. The weather was very cold; there was no crust on the snow; there were very few deer and the wolves were plentiful and hungry. "Every evening the gray devils would approach the fire closer than I had ever known wolves to come before. They would remain until morning just outside the circle of firelight sniffing, snarling, and raising their long muzzles at intervals to send a chorus shivering through the sleeping woods. "Their eyes reflected the light, and we fired many shots at the brutes from our Winchesters, aiming between the shining eyes. When the shot missed, the wolves drew back a few yards, but returned within a few minutes. When a wolf was killed or wounded the others leaped upon him and devoured him, leaving only his well-picked bones upon the snow. "The proportion of bullets that hit was one to every ten, for it is difficult to shoot straight in the darkness. "For three weeks we traveled through that part of the limit, and when I had finished my work, snowshoe trails crisscrossed the snow, showing how thoroughly I had done my work. "I finished estimating at noon on the 1st of February, and we started for the valley of the big dead pine that after noon. "From where we boiled the pot at noon it was twenty-five miles to the val ley, but that is not a long afternoon's walk for two woodsmen when the snowshoeing is good. "When we were within half a mile of the valley and descending the hill slope at a swinging trot, the hunting chorus of a wolf pack rang like a carillon of silver bells from the top of the spruce-covered hill that rose in a dark mass against the purple sky across the valley. "When we got into the valley I expected to see Renault's campfire twinkling, but no red light shone among the scattered clumps of tamarack and spruce, TURKISH LADY OF RANK. and I felt a touch of disappointment, while in the moon glare the great dead pine thrust its tall spire into the sky, and its single skeleton arm pointed toward the east. "A few minutes later we came to the edge of the brule, in the middle of which the dead pine stands, and I jumped with surprise, for I saw that a man stood with his back to the trunk, to which, apparently, he was bound. We shouted, and the man whooped joyously in answer. gave a gasp of amazement, for I recognized Renault's familiar voice. I "That same moment the wolf pack bayed from the bottom of the hill on the other side of the valley, and a chill passed over my body. Bending on our snowshoes, we raced desperately toward Renault. When we were within twenty-five yards of him the wolves, giving tongue fiercely, leaped out of the shadow of the tamaracks on the farther edge of the brule. "As we bounded up to the tree I wondered what tragedy had happened. The snow about the tree was trodden and "My Indian, Michigan Shegaug, drew his buffalo knife and quickly cut the thongs. With a happy cry, Renault sprang away from the tree trunk and snatched up the ax with the bloody blade. "The wolves were close. Shegaug and I tossed our rifles to our shoulders and emptied the magazines. Shegaug is a good shot, and I can shoot straight myself in daylight. "But the wolves were approaching with flying leaps and the moonlight is very deceptive. Only two wolves were hit; four escaped the shower of bullets and sprang at us, answering the rifles with short barks. "The fight lasted less than a minute. "Renault jumped as the wolves closed in, and the pack leader bounded at his throat with bared fangs. Renault's ax swept upward and downward; the blade sunk into the brute's neck; the gray body fell heavily on the snow; Renault wrenched the dripping blade from the wound; the wolf writhed convulsively at his feet, then lay with twitching body while the blood spouted from the deep bite of the red ax. "Renault stepped back with a grim smile and stood leaning on his ax; he had done his part. "Michigan Shegang dropped his empty rifle and pulled his buffalo knife from its sheath just as a big she wolf leaped up at him with a fierce snarl. "Shegaug sidestepped and the beast's jaws clashed together. The Indian's long arm shot out sidewise; the ten-inch blade of his knife flashed downward as the wolf dropped to the snow at the end of his spring, and Shegaug drove his big knife to the hilt into the animal's shoulder. ALGERIA-MOORISH LADIES AND APARTMENTS. stamped with moccasin tracks and snowshoe marks, and spattered with blood. Within a few yards lay the dead body of Renault's Indian, and the freezing corpse of a strange Indian was stretched at Renault's feet. "An ax with frozen flakes of blood on its blade lay between the dead men, and the fresh snowshoe trail of several men led away westward. "Renault was unhurt, but he was tied most securely to the trunk with strips of green mooseskin. "At the same moment, one of the two wolves that were left sprang at me and I crushed its skull with my rifle butt. The other wolf halted and stood hesitant a moment, but when Renault, with a yell, moved toward it swinging up his ax, it turned and galloped away. "Then we made camp and cooked and ate supper, and afterward, while Shegang skinned the dead wolves beside the fire, Renault told me his story. "He had finished his work two days before and he and his Indian, who was an Ojeebway from Rainy Lake, had started for the valley. When they arrived there they found an Indian camp close to the big dead pine. It was Renault's opinion that these Indians were Algonkins from the Abittibe district who had been run out of that part of the country for good reasons by their own people and the officers of the Hudson Bay Co. These Algonkins desired to possess the Winchester rifles, and the tent, and blankets, and bacon, and flour, and tea of Renault and his Ojeebway. So that evening following the simple primal rule, He takes who has the power, he keeps who can,' they had obtained possession of these things. Renault's Ojeebway, a hard fighter, had been killed in the fight, also one Algonkin. Two other Algonkins had been badly hurt. "When Renault was overcome, he was bound to the trunk of the dead pine and the Algonkins broke camp and hit the trail. But before they tramped away their head man made a birch bark horn, the kind of horn that is used for calling moose in autumn, and setting it to his lips, he imitated the howl of a wolf and kept repeating it until a pack of wolves answered him from beyond the hills. "Fifteen minutes later the Algonkins were a mile away; we were trotting down the hillside toward the valley; the eager-footed wolves were stringing over the top of the opposite hill. It was a narrow escape for Renault, eh? That adventure will not soon pass from his memory, eh?" take a cigar, though I did make a small mistake in thinking the newcomer an engineer. Well, here's to the little miss, and may she grow to womanhood endowed with the same noble qualities as her Irish dad." "Thanks, thanks, old man. Did you ask had I been to lodge since the election of officers? Why, yes, and the boys couldn't have elected a more unworthy dog to that noblest of offices-the chief official's chair, at your service." "Why, Jack, how lucky! Congratula ALGERIA BESKRA WOMAN. tions seem to be in order all around; and here's to the biggest-hearted fellow that ever pulled an engine out of D. I tell you, Jack, I'm an engineer, and I like the work; and talk about fraternal feelingwell, I'm glad I fired an engine long enough to join the B. of L. E. It's the greatest organization in the country. And do you know what makes it so? Well, a very few words will answer the question. It's only the very best men that are eligible to membership. I tell you, a fellow has got to be what he professes. He can't claim to be one thing and really be another. "Did you say Dick Harvey was promoted to pulling a passenger steady? Well, Dick is a pretty good fellow, and I like him all right; but, honestly, I do not think it hardly right. Now, here, we both have run longer by four or five years than he has. Let me see, Jack; you have run an engine from D- to L for near onto sixteen years, haven't you? And I have run from D to Mon local for the last ten years, and ran nearly eight years on the main line, making almost eighteen years. Of course, I'm well enough satisfied, and yet it isn't just treating a fellow right; now, is it?" A JAPANESE LADY OF RANK. "Well, no, Pete, it isn't; but then you know there is a lot of favoritism on the roads nowadays, and nearly all the plums are handed out to favorites. Rank is not always attained by merit, you know. Then I just think this way, Pete: there is a time when restitution will come, and when it does it will be complete. As for me, I would just as soon run my old 167 on freight as any passenger run they have got. And then, another thing, Pete, no one can say, 'He's got a pull,' and there is no high official to thank. So cheer up, old man; every dog has his day,' and advancement will surely come to those who wait." As Jack concluded this last sentence, they reached the lodge door, and so we will leave them till two years later. It seems strange how nature will weave into man's life a deep kindred love of brother for brother; create in man likes and dislikes, which in sympathy draw men's natures into closer communion with each other; and yet for small provocation those same sympathies that drew men together (that nature in man akin to the soul) are rudely dashed to pieces, all the barriers of friendship are suddenly broken down and the good of yesterday forgotten on the morrow, and sacred ties of fraternity are trampled under foot. It was so with these two men-they who for years had been almost like brothers. Their friendship was broken off for a mere nothing. A coolness sprang up between them when Jack was promoted over Pete to be steady engineer on the Fast Mail. Pete, who was sensitive and of a jealous nature, could not accept of Jack's promotion over himself. He reasoned that he was an older man, and that it wasn't right, no matter if he had been the cause of a bad wreck ten years before; they should not keep a man down forever for t. And, then, it was a bitter pill to see even a friend promoted over one. Pete was one of the best fellows in the world, only he didn't sometimes just see things in the right light. After all, Pete was very human, and he imagined all sorts of things about Jack, one in particular, that he was just a little sweiled up on his new position, which was anything but true. Jack could not understand his friend, and after repeatedly trying to bring back the friendship that had endured through their years on freight he gave up the battle; and as time wore on their relations became more strained, and the climax was reached when they met a year later at the Engineers' Convention, which made the two men, once such good friends, bitter enemies. Jack had planned to take his wife with him to the convention, but when the time came her mother was sick and she did not wish to leave her, but insisted on Jack going alone, which he reluctantly did. Pete and his wife had made big preparations for the convention. Florence (his wife) had never attended a convention, and Pete wished her to enjoy this one to her heart's content, and he insisted on employing a dressmaker at the house a month before the meet, for he told her there would be balls, operas and receptions until she couldn't rest-just one continuous round of pleasure for the ladies; for didn't they enjoy looking at the pretty gown of a sister, even though they were holding lodge and putting on quite a business air, and Pete wanted his wife to shine with any brother's wife at the convention. And well he might, for she was beautiful, intelligent and accomplished. * It was the night of the Grand Ball in the Masonic Temple. The month was May and the evening was chilly. Pete and his wife had just finished a two-step, when a friend of by-gone days came up to renew his acquaintance with Pete. Florence felt chilled, there being quite a current of air through the hall, so she hurried to the cloak room to get a silk shawl she had brought along to throw over her shoulders. The cloak room was as all the cloak rooms are in those immense buildings for social gatherings, more of a reception room, with beautiful nooks and separate cozy corners here and there. Just as she reached the inside of the door she ran almost into a man of middle into the face of the girl I once hoped-" "Why, Jack-dear old Jack! I never thought of seeing you. Where are you from? Oh! how pleased I am to see you. Where have you been all these years? Come, let us sit down here and have a talk; I'm tired anyway. Why, Jack, you don't know how glad I am to see you, and you look just like you always did, only you didn't have these," and she raised her small white hand to his temple. Jack was overcome by this unexpected meeting, and could only stare at this girl of his youth. She rattled on from one subject to an JAPAN-BUDDHIST HEAD PRIEST AND ASSISTANT. age-a man with clean-cut, noble features; his hair tinged with gray. In all, one might not meet so handsome and strong a fellow as Jack Cavanaugh in many a day. She gazed as one in a dream. Where had she seen that face? But at the sound of her name-"Florence!"-a smile of recognition broke over her beautiful face; for though she was thirty-four, time had dealt kindly with her, and she did not look over twenty. "Florence! am I dreaming? Do I look other, but Jack was in a dream. The present had slipped away and he was back again in the old days of the past-going to and coming from church with Florence; he was standing by the old gate in the moonlight under the stars of heaven; the birds were whispering to each other in the bushes the song that he was whispering to her. She had seemed at first to listen; then the dark days had come for him and they had parted at the crossroads Ah, Heavens! that was years ago, and |