194 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CEUISER 



for them, as the chief had said, and we knew that 

 it was all symbolical that it was life ! There rang 

 in my brain a fragment of crude verse, penned by a 

 former reconnaissance man, that met the mood well : 



"You're sorry," you say, "the season's done!" 



"Me and you both," I say, replying, 



"For now the leaves are yellow and dying; 



Summer is dead, winter's begun, 



And summer 's chance companions parted. 



But this is the sure road each man takes ; 



This is the law that nature makes ; 



Why should we then be broken-hearted?" 



On "get-a-way day" we woke early. Every one 

 was excited and in high spirits, now that the actual 

 move was upon us. 



Before we left camp we had a grand bonfire of 

 old clothes and other articles whose usefulness was 

 outworn. Bert rescued a suit of silk pajamas which 

 some one had kept closely hidden during the trip, and 

 draped them upon "Babe," the burro colt, of whom 

 he had made a pet. 



"It's the first time he's been to town," explained 

 Bert, "an' he'd oughta be dressed up, jest to show 

 'em he hain't ignorant of what's wore in the fast set 

 nowadays." 



Babe 's reluctance to don evening clothes was over- 

 come with difficulty but, once attired, he trotted 

 proudly to the head of the pack train and kept his 

 suit on until he reached the corral in Silver City. 



