<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
<h3>THE GRAVEYARD AT OWL HOOT</h3>
<p>Prudence and Alice Gordon surveyed the wild
scene that suddenly opened out before them. They
had drawn their horses up to a standstill on the brow
of no inconsiderable hill, and beyond stretched a
panorama of strikingly impressive beauty. Nature in
one of her wildest moments, verdant and profound,
was revealed.</p>
<p>Alice was a pretty girl, rather ordinary, and ever
ready for laughter, which helped to conceal an undercurrent
of serious thought. She was an old pupil of
Sarah Gurridge’s, and consequently Prudence’s school-friend.
But Alice lived in Ainsley, where, report had
it, she was “keeping company” with Robb Chillingwood,
and now the two girls only met when Alice
visited the farm at such seasons of the year as the
present.</p>
<p>“Do you think it will be safe to go further?” asked
Alice, in a tone of awestruck amazement. “You say
you are sure of the way. Would it not be better to
turn off here and make for Lonely Ranch, and seek
Chintz’s guidance? There is time enough, and it is
so easy to get lost.”</p>
<p>The girls had set out to visit Lonely Ranch, to
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_158' name='page_158'></SPAN>158</span>
enjoy a ramble and a sort of picnic in the surrounding
woods. Iredale was away on business, and the two
friends, availing themselves of the opportunity, were
taking a day off from the duties of the farm. They
had started with the intention of riding over and
leaving their horses with Iredale’s man, Chintz, and
then proceeding on foot. At the last moment Prudence
had changed her mind and decided on a visit to
the great Lake of the Woods, which was two miles
further on to the south-west of the ranch. They
carried their provisions in their saddle-bags, and had
made up their minds to find some suitable break in
the woods on the shore of the lake where they could
tether their horses and idle the afternoon away.</p>
<p>Instead of turning into the valley of Owl Hoot
they had crossed the mouth of it, and were now at
the summit of its eastern slope, gazing out upon the
mysteries of the almost uninhabited regions beyond.</p>
<p>“Of course it’s safe, you silly,” said Prudence.
“Why, suppose we were to lose ourselves, that old
mare you are riding would take you home straight as
the crow flies. Besides, I have no fancy for that ferret-faced
Chintz becoming one of our party. We could
never talk freely in front of him.”</p>
<p>“All right, then,” said Alice, with a sigh. “You
are leader of this expedition. Don’t the woods look
gloomy? And look out beyond. There seems to be
no end to them. Shall we stop and have dinner here,
and ride on afterwards?”</p>
<p>“Certainly not, madam,” Prudence said briskly.
“No shirking; besides, we want water to make our
tea. There’s none here.”</p>
<p>Prudence understood her friend’s fears, which were
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_159' name='page_159'></SPAN>159</span>
not without reason. It was a simple thing to get lost
in such a forest. But anyway, as she had said, the
old prairie horses they were riding would carry them
home should they mistake the road. There was
really no danger.</p>
<p>It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining with
unabated splendour; as yet it wanted an hour to
noon. The brilliant daylight was somehow different
here to what it was on the prairie. The fierce sunlight
poured down upon an unbroken carpet of dull
green, which seemed to have in it a tinge of the blackness
of the heavy tree-trunks which it concealed
beneath. The result was curiously striking. The
brightness of the day was dulled, and the earth seemed
bathed in a peculiar light such as a vault of grey
rain-clouds above it bestows. The girls, gazing into
the valley which yawned at their feet, were looking
into a shadowed hollow of sombre melancholy––unchanging,
unrelieved.</p>
<p>Beyond stretched a vista of hills, growing steadily
greater as the hazy distance was reached. Behind
where they stood was the Owl Hoot valley and
woodlands, equally sombre, until the prairie was
reached.</p>
<p>The moments passed, and they made no effort to
move. They were both lost in thought, and looked
out across the wild woodlands with eyes which beheld
only that which was most profoundly beautiful.
Prudence was enjoying the scene, the redolent air
which rose from the woods below, the solitary grandeur
of the world about her, with all the appreciation of a
prairie-bred girl. Alice merely saw and marvelled at
the picture before her. She was less enthusiastic, less
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_160' name='page_160'></SPAN>160</span>
used to such surroundings than her companion. They
affected her differently. She marvelled, she wondered,
but a peculiar nervousness was inspired by what she
beheld. At length Prudence took the initiative. She
lifted her reins and her horse moved forward.</p>
<p>“Come along, Alice,” she said. And the two
disappeared down the slope into the giant forest
below.</p>
<p>Once on their way Alice recovered her good spirits
again. Within the forest the world did not seem
so vast, so confusing to the eye. On either hand,
ahead, were to be seen only bare tree-trunks beneath
the ponderous green canopy which shut out the
sunlight from above. The scrunch of the pine-cones
crushing under the hoofs of the horses carried a
welcome sense of companionship to the riders. Alice
found the reality much less fearful than the contemplation
from the heights above. In a few moments
both girls were chattering gaily, all thoughts of
losing themselves, or of other dangers which these
virgin forests might conceal, having passed from their
minds.</p>
<p>Whatever doubts may have assailed Alice they
were soon set at rest, for, in a short time, after
ascending another rather sharp slope, they found
themselves gazing down upon a long, narrow sheet of
water. It was one of the many inlets with which the
shores of the mysterious Lake of the Woods abound.
From where the girls first caught sight of it, it looked
as though the forest had been cleanly rent by the
glistening water which had cut its way into the dense
growth, demolishing every sign of vegetation in its
path, but leaving everything which grew even down
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_161' name='page_161'></SPAN>161</span>
to its very edge. This inlet widened out between two
hills, and, beyond that, in a dazzling haze, the vast
body of the lake, like a distant view of the sea, was
just visible. It was a perfect picture.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it gorgeous?” said Prudence enthusiastically.
“Isn’t it worth a few miles’ ride to see it? I’m glad
we didn’t go and bother that horrid little Chintz. It
would have taken half the pleasure away to have had
his ferrety face with us.”</p>
<p>“Lovely––lovely,” exclaimed Alice rapturously.
Her bright eyes were dancing with delight, and her
breath came and went rapidly. “Just fancy, Prue; I
have lived all these years within reach of this place
and this is the first time I have ever set eyes upon
the lake.”</p>
<p>Her companion laughed.</p>
<p>“That is not to be wondered at. There are very
few people who ever come this way. Why, I couldn’t
say, unless it is that the country is bad to travel
through on this side. Mind, although there are few
habitations on the western shore, there are plenty to
the east and south. I never could understand why
George Iredale selected Owl Hoot for the site of his
ranch. Just think how delightful it would be to have
your home built on this hill.” The girl indicated
their position with her riding-whip. “Wouldn’t it be
delightful to wake each morning and gaze out upon
such a scene?”</p>
<p>“Perfect,” said Alice, whilst her eyes glanced
mischievously in her friend’s direction. “Summer or
winter?”</p>
<p>“Summer, of course, you goose,” exclaimed Prudence.</p>
<p>“Of course; winter would be different, wouldn’t
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_162' name='page_162'></SPAN>162</span>
it?” Alice was laughing, but Prudence was quite
serious.</p>
<p>“Yes; that’s the worst of all Nature’s finest handiwork.
There’s always some drawback to it. Ugh,
winter in this place would be too dreadful to contemplate.
These wilds are only fit for Indians and
coyotes and wolves when the summer is over.”</p>
<p>“But it’s a heavenly spot now,” said Alice. Suddenly
she raised her whip and pointed. Far down,
out upon the surface of the silvery belt of water, a
tiny speck was slowly moving. At first so distant
was it that it appeared to be stationary, but after a
while it was distinctly to be seen moving. “What
is it?” she questioned sharply.</p>
<p>“Looks like a boat,” replied Prudence. “I wonder
whose?”</p>
<p>“I give it up. Does Mr. Iredale keep a boat?”</p>
<p>Although Prudence was the elder of the two girls
she was much the simpler. She was essentially of
the prairie. She had no suspicion of the apparently
innocent inquiry.</p>
<p>“I don’t think so. I never really heard. No; I
should think that must belong to some Indians or
half-breed fishermen. There are some of those people
about, I believe.”</p>
<p>She continued to watch the boat for some moments.
The less serious girl beside her allowed her attention
to wander. Prudence saw the boat approach the near
shore. Then it disappeared under the shadow of the
towering pines. An exclamation from Alice drew her
attention.</p>
<p>“Look over the other side, Prue; there’s another
boat. It has just shot out from that great clump of
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_163' name='page_163'></SPAN>163</span>
undergrowth. Why, there are a dozen people in it.
Look! they are racing along. Where’s the other
gone?”</p>
<p>“It disappeared under this bank. Ah, the other
one is following in its wake. Yes, I should say those
are Indians.”</p>
<p>“Let us go on down. We can see better from the
bank. My curiosity is aroused. I didn’t know there
was so much fishing done here. Mr. Iredale never
speaks of it.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think Mr. Iredale sees much of the lake.
His land––that is, his grazing––lies to the west of the
house. But he rarely talks about his work. As he
says, so few people care about this wild district that
he does not like to worry folks by reminding them of
its existence.”</p>
<p>“All the same,” replied Alice, “one of these fine
days some enterprising American will come along
and find out some, at present, unknown wealth in the
place, and then the settlers round the district will
kick themselves. Trust a Canuk for sitting down on
his hundred and sixty acres and never moving beyond
the limits of his fencing. I like this weird place, with
its woods, its hills and valleys, its lake and its
mysterious boats. You should draw George––I mean
Mr. Iredale––out. There must be a deal that is of
interest here.”</p>
<p>“Why should I draw him out?” asked Prudence
innocently, as the horses ambled down the hill towards
the shore of the lake. “You ask him. I believe he’d
like to tell some one all about it.”</p>
<p>“No, thanks, friend Prue,” said Alice cheerfully.
“I’m not what you might call a ‘free agent.’ There
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_164' name='page_164'></SPAN>164</span>
is a young man, to wit, a certain Robb, who might
object. Besides, I have not turned poacher yet.”</p>
<p>“What on earth do you mean?”</p>
<p>Prudence turned a pair of astonished brown eyes
on her companion. Alice didn’t answer, and the two
looked squarely into each other’s faces. The elder
girl read the meaning which Alice did not attempt
to conceal, and a warm flush mounted quickly and
suffused her sun-tanned face.</p>
<p>Then followed a long silence, and the crackling of
the pine-cones beneath the horses’ feet alone aroused
the echoes of the woods. Prudence was thinking
deeply. A thoughtful pucker marred the perfect arch
of her brows, and her half-veiled eyes were turned
upon her horse’s mane.</p>
<p>George Iredale. What of him? He seemed so to
have grown into her life of late that she would now
scarcely recognize Loon Dyke Farm without him.
This sudden reminder made her look back over the
days since her return from “down East,” and she
realized that George, since that time, had literally
formed part of her life. He was always in her thoughts
in some way or other. Every one on the farm spoke
of him as if he belonged to it. Hardly a day passed
but what some portion of it was spent by him in her
company. His absence was only when his business
took him elsewhere.</p>
<p>And what was the meaning of it all? What was
he to her that her friend should talk of “poaching”
when regarding her own intercourse with this man?
Prudence’s face grew hotter. The awakening had
come. At that moment she knew that George Iredale
was a good deal to her, and she felt a certain maidenly
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_165' name='page_165'></SPAN>165</span>
shame at the discovery. He had never uttered a word
of love to her––not one, in all the years she had
known him, and, unbidden, she had given him her
love. In those first moments of realization her heart
was filled with something like dismay which was not
wholly without a feeling of joy. She felt herself
flushing under the thoughts conjured by her friend’s
implication, and her feelings became worse as Alice
went on.</p>
<p>“Ah, Prue, you can’t hide these things from me.
I have always intended to say something, but you
are such an austere person that I was afraid of getting
a snub. Mr. Iredale is a charming man, and––well––I
hope when it comes off you’ll be very, very happy.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be absurd, Alice.” Prudence had recovered
herself now.</p>
<p>“My dear Prue,” the girl retorted emphatically, and
imitating the other’s lofty tone, “George Iredale just
worships the ground you walk on. One word of
encouragement from you, if you haven’t already given
it to him, and in a short time you will be the mistress
of Lonely Ranch.”</p>
<p>“Nothing of the sort”</p>
<p>“My dear girl, I know.”</p>
<p>“You know less than you think you do, and I am
not going to listen to any more of your nonsense.”</p>
<p>Prudence touched her horse’s flank with her heel
and trotted on ahead of her companion. But in her
heart she knew that what Alice had said was true.</p>
<p>Alice called after her to wait. The trees were so
closely set that she had difficulty in steering clear of
them; but Prudence was obdurate and kept right on.
Nor did she draw rein until the shore of the lake was
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_166' name='page_166'></SPAN>166</span>
reached, and then only did she do so because of the
impassable tangle of undergrowth which confronted
her. Just as Alice came up with her she started off
again at right angles to the direction they had come,
riding parallel with the bank. Alice, breathless and
laughing, followed in her wake, until at length a break
in the trees showed them a grassy patch which sank
slowly down in a gentle declivity to the water’s edge.
By the time this was reached Prudence’s good-humour
was quite restored.</p>
<p>“A nice dance you’ve led me,” expostulated Alice,
as they dismounted and began to off-saddle.</p>
<p>“Serves you right for your impertinence,” Prudence
smiled over at the other.</p>
<p>“All the same I’m right.”</p>
<p>“Now keep quiet, or I’ll ride off again and leave
you.”</p>
<p>“So you can if you like; this old mare I’m riding
will take me home straight as the crow flies. What’s
that?”</p>
<p>Out across the water came a long-drawn cry, so
weird yet so human that the two girls stood still as
statues, their faces blanching under their tan. The
echoes seemed to die hard, growing slowly fainter and
fainter. Alice’s eyes were widely staring and filled
with an expression of horror. Prudence recovered
herself first. She laughed a little constrainedly,
however.</p>
<p>“We are in the region of Owl Hoot,” she said
significantly. “That was one of the screech-owls.”</p>
<p>“O-oh! I thought it was some one being murdered.”</p>
<p>“We shall probably hear lots of strange cries;
these regions are renowned for them. You’ve got the
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_167' name='page_167'></SPAN>167</span>
kettle on your saddle, Al. Get all the things out
whilst I gather some kindling and make a fire.”</p>
<p>“For goodness’ sake don’t leave me here alone for
long,” Alice entreated. “I won’t mention George’s
name again, sure.”</p>
<p>But Prudence had tethered her horse and set off
on her quest. Alice, left alone, secured her horse
and proceeded to disgorge the contents of her saddle-bags,
and also those on her friend’s saddle. This done,
she stepped down to the water’s edge, and, pushing
the reedy vegetation on one side, filled the kettle. As
she rose from her task she looked out down the wide
inlet. The view was an enchanting one. The wooded
banks opposite her rose abruptly from the water,
overshadowing it, and throwing a black reflection
upon its still surface. There was not a breath of air
stirring; the world seemed wondrously still.</p>
<p>Away to the left the water widened out, and was
overhung by a haze of heat. She was about to turn
away when, from out of the distance, there appeared
another long boat. Instantly the girl was all attention.
This boat was not travelling in the same direction
as were those they had first seen, but was making
for the point where the others had appeared. She
had a much better view down here at the bank of
anything moving on the lake than from the higher
land, and she could not help being struck by the fact
that, whoever the occupants of the strange craft, they
were not Indians. One man was standing in the
stern steering the boat by the aid of a long paddle,
and this man was garbed in white-man’s attire. The
distance she was away from the object of her curiosity
prevented her distinguishing the features of these
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_168' name='page_168'></SPAN>168</span>
people of the lake; but that which was apparent to
her was the fact that they were not fishermen, nor
was their boat a fishing-boat. It was long, and
built with the narrowness of a rice-lake canoe, and
so low in the water that its gunwale looked to be
within an inch of the glassy surface.</p>
<p>So intent was the girl upon this strange appearance
that she did not notice Prudence’s return, and as the
strange craft disappeared within the undergrowth of
the opposite shore, she turned with a start at the
sound of her friend’s voice beside her.</p>
<p>“Another boat,” asked Prudence, “or the one we
saw before?”</p>
<p>“Another.”</p>
<p>There was a silence; then the two turned away and
prepared their dinner.</p>
<p>They pitched their camp in the shade, and the meal
was quickly prepared. The smoke from their fire
helped to keep off the few late summer mosquitoes
that hummed drowsily upon the sultry air. Everything
was wonderfully peaceful and sleepy about
their little encampment. Not a leaf stirred or a
bough creaked; there was the stillness of death over
all. Gradually the silence communicated itself to
the girls, and the pauses in their chatter grew longer
and their eyes more thoughtful. Even their horses
for the most part stood idly by. The green grass
had but a passing attraction for them. They nibbled
at it occasionally, it is true, but with apparently
little appetite. After dinner the two friends spread
their saddle-blankets upon the grass, and stretched
themselves thereon in attitudes of comfort, from
which they could look out across the shining surface
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_169' name='page_169'></SPAN>169</span>
of the lake; and soon their talk almost entirely
ceased. Then, for a while, they lay dreaming the time
away in happy waking dreams of the future.</p>
<p>Alice had bridged for a moment the miles which
divided Owl Hoot from Ainsley, and her thoughts
were with her sturdy lover, Robb Chillingwood. She
was contemplating their future together, that future
which would contain for them, if no great ease and
luxury, at least the happiness of a perfect love and
mutual assistance in times of trial. Her practical
mind did not permit her to gaze on visionary times
of prosperity and rises to position, but rather she
considered their present trifling income, and what they
two could do with it. Now and again she sighed, not
with any feeling of discontent, but merely at the
thought of her own inability to augment her future
husband’s resources. She was in a serious mood,
and pondered long upon these, to her, all-important
things.</p>
<p>Prudence’s thoughts were of a very different nature,
although she too was dreaming of the man whom
her sudden realization had brought so pronouncedly
into her life. Her round dark face was clouded
with a look of sore perplexity, and at first the
dominant note of her reflections was her blindness
to the real state of her own feelings. Now everything
was clear to her of the manner in which George
Iredale had steadily grown into her daily life, and
how her own friendly liking for him had already
ripened into something warmer. He was so quiet, so
undemonstrative, so good and kind. She saw now
how she had grown accustomed to look for and abide
by his decisions in matters which required more consideration
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_170' name='page_170'></SPAN>170</span>
than she could give––matters which were
beyond her. She understood the strong, reliant
nature which underlaid the quiet exterior. And now,
when she came to think of it, in all the days of her
grown womanhood he had ever been near her, seeking
her society always. There was just that brief period
during which Leslie Grey had swayed her heart with
his tempestuous manner, for the rest it was Iredale.
She tried to shut him out; to contemplate his removal
from the round of her daily life. Instantly the picture
of that life lost its brightness and colouring, and her
world appeared to her a very dreary smudge of endless
toil. Yes, Alice had sounded the keynote, and
Prudence’s heart had responded with the chord in
sympathy. She knew now that she loved George
Iredale.</p>
<p>This realization was not wholly pleasurable, for
with it came a sudden grip of fear at her simple heart.
Her thoughts went back to some eight months before.
And she found herself again looking into the death-chamber
at the Leonville school-house. That scene
had no longer power to move her; at least not
in the way one might have expected. She no
longer loved the dead man; he had passed from her
thoughts as though she had never cared for him.
But a new feeling had sprung up in her heart which
the realization of this indifference had brought.
And this feeling filled her with an utter self-loathing.
She shuddered as she thought of her own heartlessness,
the shallow nature which was hers. She remembered
her feelings at that bedside as she listened to
the dying man’s last words. Worst of all, she remembered
how, in the paroxysm of her grief, she had
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_171' name='page_171'></SPAN>171</span>
sworn to discover the murderer of Leslie Grey and
see justice administered. Now she asked herself,
What had she done? And the answer came in all its
callous significance––Nothing!</p>
<p>She roused herself; her face was very pale. Her
thoughts framed themselves into unspoken words.</p>
<p>“If this is the way I have fulfilled my promise to
the dead, if this is the extent and depth of my
love, then I am the most worthless woman on earth.
What surety can I give that my love for George
is a better thing than was my affection for Leslie
Grey?”</p>
<p>She sat herself up, she looked over at her companion
and noted the drooping eyelids. Her features
were strangely set, and her smooth forehead wore a
disfiguring frown. Then she spoke in a sharp tone
that startled the girl beside her.</p>
<p>“Alice, do you think it is possible to imagine you
are in love with a man––I mean, that you honestly
believe you love him at the time and really do not?”</p>
<p>Alice endeavoured to collect her wandering
thoughts.</p>
<p>“Why, yes, I suppose so. I’ve been in love with a
dozen men at one time and another, never longer
than a month with any one of them. I never go to a
dance but what I fall in love with at least two of
my partners, and my undying affection for both just
lasts the evening out. Imagination is strongly
developed in some people––when they’re young.”</p>
<p>“No, be serious.”</p>
<p>Alice gazed at the other curiously. Then––</p>
<p>“Out with it, Prue. What is it that’s troubling you?
Your face is significant of some dire tragedy.”</p>
<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_172' name='page_172'></SPAN>172</span></div>
<p>“How long have you been engaged to Robb
Chillingwood?”</p>
<p>“Nearly six months. Why?”</p>
<p>“And you’ve never thought of any other man?”</p>
<p>Alice shook her head. For once she was quite
serious.</p>
<p>“Couldn’t look at another man. Robb hasn’t
got two cents to his name, but I’m going to marry
him or––or––die an old maid.”</p>
<p>For a moment the expression of Prudence’s face
relaxed, but a moment later it set itself into more
stern lines than ever.</p>
<p>“Alice, you were right in what you said about
George,” she went on slowly. “I can hardly believe
it myself yet. Leslie Grey has only been dead eight
months, and yet here I am thinking all day long of
another man. I believe I am utterly heartless––worthless.”</p>
<p>“Well?”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s just this. I am not worth an honest
man’s love. I used to think I worshipped the ground
poor Leslie walked on––I’m sure I loved him to distraction,”
the girl went on passionately. “Very well;
suppose George asked me to marry him and I consented.
In all probability, in the light of what has
gone before, I should be tired of him in a year, and
then––and then–––”</p>
<p>“You’re talking nonsense now, Prue,” said Alice.
She was alarmed at the other’s tone. The beautiful
face of her friend was quite pale, and sharp lines were
drawn about the mouth.</p>
<p>“I’m not talking nonsense,” the other went on in
a tense, bitter tone. “What I say is true. In less
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_173' name='page_173'></SPAN>173</span>
than eight months I have forgotten the dead. I have
done nothing to discover the murderer who robbed
me of a husband and lover. I have simply forgotten––forgotten
him. Put yourself in my place––put
your Robb in Leslie’s place. What would you have
done?”</p>
<p>Alice thought seriously before she answered.</p>
<p>“I should never have rested until I had avenged
his death,” she said at last, and a hard glitter shone
in her eyes. Then a moment after she smiled. “But
it is different. I don’t think you really loved Leslie
Grey. You merely thought you did.”</p>
<p>“That only makes it worse,” the other retorted.
Prudence’s face was alight with inflexible resolve.
“My debt to the dead must be paid. I see it now
in a light in which it has never presented itself to
me before. I must prove myself to myself before––before–––”
She broke off, only to resume again with
a fierce and passionate earnestness of which Alice
had never believed her capable. “I can never marry
George Iredale with Leslie’s unavenged death upon
my conscience. I could never trust myself. George
may love me now; I believe I love him, but–––No,
Alice, I will never marry him until my duty to Leslie
Grey is fulfilled. This shall be my punishment for
my heartless forgetfulness.”</p>
<p>Alice surveyed her friend for some seconds without
speaking. Then she burst out into a scathing
protest––</p>
<p>“You are mad, Prue,––mad, mad, utterly mad.
You would throw away a life’s happiness for the mere
shadow of what you are pleased to consider a duty.
Worse, you would destroy a man’s happiness for a
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_174' name='page_174'></SPAN>174</span>
morbid phantasm. What can you do towards avenging
Leslie’s death? You hold no clue. What the
police have failed to fathom, how can you hope to
unravel? If I were a man, do you know what I’d do
to you? I’d take you by the shoulders and shake
you until that foolish head of yours threatened to part
company with your equally foolish body. You
should have thought of these things before, and not
now, when you realize how fond you are of George,
set about wrecking two healthy lives. Oh, Prue, you
are––are––a fool! And I can scarcely keep my
temper with you.” Alice paused for want of breath
and lack of vocabulary for vituperation. Prudence
was looking out across the water. Her expression
was quite unchanged. With all the warped illogicalness
of the feminine mind she had discovered the
path in which she considered her duty to lie, and
was resolved to follow it.</p>
<p>“I have a better clue than you suppose, Alice,” she
said thoughtfully, “the clue of his dying words. I
understood his reference to the Winnipeg <i>Free Press</i>.
That must be the means by which the murderer is
discovered. They were not horse-thieves who did him
to death. And I will tell you something else. The
notice in that paper to which he referred––you know––is
even now inserted at certain times. The man or
men who cause that notice to be inserted in the paper
were in some way responsible for his death.”</p>
<p>There was a moment’s pause. Then Alice spoke
quite calmly.</p>
<p>“Tell me, Prue, has George proposed yet?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Ah!” And Alice smiled broadly and turned her
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_175' name='page_175'></SPAN>175</span>
eyes towards the setting sun. When she spoke again
it was to draw attention to the time. As though by
common consent the matter which had been under
discussion was left in abeyance.</p>
<p>“It is time to be moving,” the girl said. “See, the
sun will be down in an hour. Let us have tea and
then we’ll saddle-up.”</p>
<p>Tea was prepared, and by the time the sun dipped
below the horizon the horses were re-saddled and all
was ready for the return journey. They set out for
home. Alice was in the cheeriest of spirits, but Prudence
was pre-occupied, even moody. That afternoon
spent in the peaceful wilds of the “back”
country had left its mark upon her. All her life––her
world––seemed suddenly to have changed. It
was as though this second coming of love to her had
brought with it the banking clouds of an approaching
storm. The two rode Indian fashion through the
woods, and neither spoke for a long time; then, at
last, it was Alice who ventured a protest.</p>
<p>“Where are you leading us to, Prue?” she asked.
“I am sure this is not the way we came.”</p>
<p>Prudence looked round; she seemed as though she
had only just awakened from some unpleasant
dream.</p>
<p>“Not the way?” she echoed. Then she drew her
horse up sharply. She was alert in an instant. “I’m
afraid you’re right, Al.” Then in a tone of perplexity,
“Where are we?”</p>
<p>Alice stared at her companion with an expression
of dismay.</p>
<p>“Oh, Prue, you’ve gone and lost us––and the sun
is already down.”</p>
<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_176' name='page_176'></SPAN>176</span></div>
<p>Prudence gazed about her blankly for a few
moments, realizing only too well how truly her companion
had spoken. She had not the vaguest notion
of the way they had come. The forest was very
dark. The day-long twilight which reigned beneath
the green had darkened with the shadows of approaching
night. There was no opening in view
anywhere; there was nothing but the world of tree-trunks,
and, beneath their horses’ feet, the soft carpet
of rotting vegetation, whilst every moment the gloom
was deepening to darkness––a darkness blacker than
the blackest night.</p>
<p>“What shall we do?” asked Alice, in a tone of
horror. Then: “Shall we go back?”</p>
<p>Prudence shook her head. Her prairie instincts
were roused now.</p>
<p>“No; come along; give your mare her head. Our
horses will find the way.”</p>
<p>They touched the animals sharply, and, in response,
they moved forward unhesitatingly. The old mare
Alice was riding took the lead, and the journey was
continued. The gloom of the forest communicated
something of its depressing influence to the travellers.
There was no longer any attempt at talk. Each was
intent upon ascertaining their whereabouts and watching
the alert movements of the horses’ heads and ears.
The darkness had closed in in the forest with alarming
suddenness, and, in consequence, the progress was
slow; but, in spite of this, the assurance with which
the horses moved on brought confidence to the minds
of the two girls. Prudence was in no way disturbed.
Alice was not quite so calm. For an hour they
threaded their way through the endless maze of
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_177' name='page_177'></SPAN>177</span>
trees. They had climbed hills and descended into
valleys, but still no break in the dense foliage above.
They had just emerged from one hollow, deeper
and wider than the rest, and were slowly ascending
a steep hill. Prudence was suddenly struck by an
idea.</p>
<p>“Alice,” she said, “I believe we are heading for the
ranch. The valleys all run north and south hereabouts.
We are travelling westwards.”</p>
<p>“I hope so,” replied the other decidedly; “we shall
then be able to get on the right trail for home. This
is jolly miserable. O––oh!”</p>
<p>The girl’s exclamation was one of horror. A
screech-owl had just sent its dreadful note in melancholy
waves out upon the still night air. It started low,
almost pianissimo, rose with a hideous crescendo to
fortissimo, and then died away like the wail of a lost
soul. It came from just ahead of them and to the
right. Alice’s horse shied and danced nervously.
Prudence’s horse stood stock still. Then, as no
further sound came, they started forward again.</p>
<p>“My, but those owls are dreadful things,” said
Alice. “I believe I nearly fainted.”</p>
<p>“Come on,” said Prudence. “After all they are
only harmless owls.” Her consolatory words were as
much for the benefit of her own nerves as for those
of her friend.</p>
<p>The brow of the hill was passed and they began to
descend the other side. Suddenly they saw the
twinkling of stars ahead. Alice first caught sight of
the welcome clearing.</p>
<p>“An opening at last, Prue; now we shall find out
where we are.” A moment later she turned again.
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_178' name='page_178'></SPAN>178</span>
“A light,” she said. “That must be the ranch. Quick,
come along.”</p>
<p>The blackness of the wood gave place to the starlit
darkness of the night. They were about to pass
out into the open when suddenly Alice’s horse came
to a frightened stand. For an instant the mare
swerved, then she reared and turned back whence
she had come. Prudence checked her horse and
looked for what had frightened the other animal.</p>
<p>A sight so weird presented itself that she suddenly
raised one hand to her face and covered her eyes in
nervous terror. Alice had regained the mastery of
her animal and now drew up alongside the other. She
looked, and the sharp catching of her breath told of
what she saw. Suddenly she gripped Prudence’s arm
and drew the girl’s hand from before her face.</p>
<p>“Keep quiet, Prue,” she whispered. “What is this
place?”</p>
<p>“The Owl Hoot graveyard. This is the Haunted
Hill.”</p>
<p>“And those?” Alice was pointing fearfully towards
the clearing.</p>
<p>“Are–––Oh, come away, I can’t stand it.”</p>
<p>But neither girl made a move to go. Their eyes
were fixed in a gaze of burning fascination upon the
scene before them. Dark, almost black, the surrounding
woods threw up in relief the clearing lit by the
stars. But even so the scene was indistinct and uncertain.
A low broken fence surrounded a small patch
of ground, in the middle of which stood a ruined
log-hut. Round the centre were scattered half-a-dozen
or more tumbled wooden crosses, planted each
in the centre of an elongated mound of earth. Here
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_179' name='page_179'></SPAN>179</span>
and there a slab of stone marked the grave of some
dead-and-gone resident of Owl Hoot, and a few
shrubs had sprung up as though to further indicate
these obscure monuments. But it was not these
things which had filled the spectators with such
horror. It was the crowd of silent flitting figures
that seemed to come from out of one of the stone-marked
graves, and pass, in regular procession, in
amongst the ruins of the log-hut, and there disappear.
To the girls’ distorted fancy they seemed to be
shrouded human forms. Their faces were hidden by
reason of their heads being bent forward under the
pressure of some strange burden which rested on their
shoulders. Forty of these gruesome phantoms rose
from out of the ground and passed before their wildly-staring
eyes and disappeared amidst the ruins. Not
a sound was made by their swift-treading feet. They
seemed to float over the ground. Then all became
still again. Nothing moved, nor was there even the
rustle of a leaf upon the boughs above. The stars
twinkled brightly, and the calm of the night was undisturbed.
Alice’s grip fell from her companion’s
arm. Her horse reared and plunged, then, taking
the bit between its teeth, it set off down the hill in
the direction of Iredale’s house. The light which
had burned in one of the windows had suddenly gone
out, and there was nothing now to indicate the way,
but the mare made no mistake. Prudence gave her
horse its head and followed in hot pursuit.</p>
<p>Both animals came to a stand before the door of
the barn behind the house, where, to the girls’ joy,
they found the ferret-faced Chintz apparently awaiting
them.</p>
<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_180' name='page_180'></SPAN>180</span></div>
<p>Alice was almost in a fainting condition, but
Prudence was more self-possessed. She merely told
the little man that they had lost their way, and asked
his assistance to guide them out of the valley to
where the trail to Loon Dyke Farm began. Such was
the unexpected ending of their picnic.</p>
<hr class='toprule' />
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_181' name='page_181'></SPAN>181</span>
<SPAN name='CHAPTER_XI_CANINE_VAGARIES' id='CHAPTER_XI_CANINE_VAGARIES'></SPAN>
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