Told in the Firelight 



As the leaves fall in October, 



As the stream dies in the quicksands, 



As the snow melts in the sun rays, 



So the children of the open, 



Of the mountain, plain and valley, 



Fled before the rail and rifle, 



Fled before the conquering cattle, 



Farther still and ever farther 



To the bosom of the river 



That is bearing them forever 



Through the land of the Hereafter. 



The fire is ashes now. Ed has told 

 his last bear story and it is growing 

 cold. The day is done. Our shoes are 

 hid away beyond the reach of prowling 

 porcupines. We seek our sleeping bags, 

 and say "Good Night." Next day we 

 ride away. Back to the little slab-side 

 cabin by the creek. 



September now is near. Vacation 

 days are over, and the hour arrives 

 when we must say good-bye to Smoke 

 and other loved companions of the 

 trails. We are leaving on the morrow. 

 The evening star has set behind the 

 western walls. A curtain dark is 

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