will suffice to bring down a load of lum- 
ber for your cabin. It hasna’ been 
used a lot of late: Tam doesn’t come 
to see very often of late.” 
“Ts Tom your son, Mr. McGregor?” 
“A YE. But suppose ye just call me 
‘Mac.’ It’ll sound more neigh- 
borly like. Look, man! There’s a shot 
for ye!” . 
He pointed up into the top of a 
spruce, but I failed to see what he was 
pointing at. 
“There, down in the crotch of that 
limb on the right, about twenty feet 
from—” 
“T see it! What is it?” 
“Good table food, laddie. I believe 
they call it blue grouse. Can ye hit 
Ai 
The tree was'a high one and the bird 
only a small mark. I steadied myself 
against a tree-trunk, raised my rifle, 
aimed carefully and fired. There was 
a cloud of scattering feathers and the 
bird came down like a plummet. 
“Good work,” nodded McGregor. 
“That’ll make a nice meal for you.” 
I leaped off into the brush and picked 
up the bird. The rifle bullet had cer- 
tainly mangled it, slicing through the 
breast and coming out the back. As I 
went back to the old man a happy 
thought came to me. ° 
“Mac, there’s more here than I can 
eat. Will you come over and join me 
at supper? How far away is your 
place?” é 
“Well, if it was two mile away it 
wouldn’t be ower far to come to accept 
your invitation: an’ I’ll be delighted. 
to come and ha’ a wee bit crack wi’ 
ye. After sundown shall we say?” 
“That'll be fine, Mac. And now, if 
you don’t mind, I’d ask you to show me 
the nearest way to your road, seeing 
you’ve given me the privilege of using 
tts 
O the old man of the woods led the 
way from the end of my partly- 
built road, and showed me a short cut 
to the same trail I had discovered when 
chased by the yellow-jackets. It was 
remarkable what agility McGregor pos- 
sessed, despite his bent back and sag- 
ging legs, and it took my breath to fol- 
low him. He resembled nothing so 
much as an overgrown “pixie,” at least 
in his activity. He was too thin to re- 
semble them in form. Standing on the 
old trail he looked back the way we’d 
come. 
“T should think that a day or two’s 
labor would bring ye through to here, 
laddie. To-day is— What day of the 
week is it, now? I take little count of 
time any more.” 
“It’s Thursday, Mac. I think I can 
get the road fixed so as to get a load 
of lumber down here Monday.” 
140 
“Aye: I should surmise ye might. Ill 
come to see ye after sundown, then.” 
“And don’t forget. But before you 
go will you tell me how you came to 
be seeking the panther?” 
“I just saw the marks of his pads 
on the sand before my cabin, an’ I fol- 
lowed them along the shore. Ye have 
a pony? It was the smell of it, maybe, 
that led the beastie up the bank. Good 
day t’ ye, laddie.” 
And McGregor was gone, his last re- 
mark leaving my mind in a very un- 
comfortable state. Peter has scented 
the big cat; and the big cat had scented 
Peter. My heart became anxious for 
the safety of the pony. The flimsiness 
of the shelter I had made for him would 
render it easy for the panther to get 
at Peter and—demolish him. I re- 
solved that I would tether my pony 
near my tent that night, and keep the 
fire blazing. 
HE possibility of shortening my 
trail-cutting or road-building oper- 
ations, as revealed by Mac’s’ visit, 
aroused an anxiety to get the job done. 
Since seeing the panther, too, a desire 
had come to quickly get something more 
substantial than canvas between myself 
and the “yellow deevil.” You see I 
remembered what had happened to the 
postman who had picked up the panther 
cubs. I make no pretensions to bray- 
ery. 
To work I went, then, to get my road 
finished. And I took much joy and sat- 
isfaction out of my labor. As I went 
forward, filling up hollows here and 
removing: hillocks there, digging and 
chopping and banking, I felt the thrill 
that must come to every pioneer. Often 
I paused and looked back upon the road 
that could scarcely be called “straight” 
—for where big trees had stood in the 
line of my building I had gone around 
them—and I grinned happily with joy 
at my accomplishment. 
Ever since a lad I have had an ad- 
miration for road-builders. To me 
there is a strong, romantic appeal about 
the business. I truly believe that I 
would have made a most enthusiastic 
civil engineer, although, perhaps, not 
a very good one. Men TI have met of 
this profession have always had a fas- 
cination for me. They seem such a 
frank, fearless, friendly lot and they 
exhale that healthy spirit that comes 
from life in the great outdoors. They 
conquer swamp and morass and moun- 
tain torrent, and “by faith” and hard 
work, “they move mountains.” 
ELL, so much pleasure did I find 
in my labors that I had almost 
forgotten my invitation to my newly- 
discovered neighbor. Almost, but not 
quite, for back in my consciousness 
there had lurked the whole afternoon: 
a pleasant anticipation of supper—and, 
a guest. As the sun reached the tops) 
of the trees in the west, I returned to 
my camp. 
It was.with some pride, and some 
doubt, that I set to work to fix up the 
meal. I plucked the grouse I had shot 
and cut it into slices and sections, and, 
after rinsing the pieces, I laid them in 
the frying-pan along with several slices 
of bacon. I sprinkled the filet with 
salt and a fair amount of pepper, and 
then sliced an onion into the pan. 
And such a glorious fire I prepared 
for the occasion in the stone fireplace 
I had built before my tent! I had used 
the thick, dry, outside bark of the 
Douglas fir as top fuel, and it was 
rapidly being reduced to glowing coals. 
There was a big pot of rice, which I 
set to boil over the fire, and a tin 
kettle filled with water for tea. Also 
there was a big cake of pan-bread 
which I had made that morning. My 
guest, surely, would not starve. 
| 
| 
“Mac said he would come after : 

down.” 
I looked through the tree-tops to the 
West. The sun was no longer visible. 
I was getting hungry, but not a mouth- 
ful would I eat until Mac arrived. I 
wanted to serve up the bird and bacon. 
piping-hot. I was the owner of a| 
watch, but Mother, always careful, had | 
advised me to leave it home. However, 
had Mac and I each possessed watches 
I doubt whether we could have timed 
things better. | 
E came: he approached from the 
opposite side of the fire, and it| 
was only when he coughed loudly that 
I looked up and saw him. My eyes. 
were dim from the heat of the fire. He 
had come, he told me, by way of the 
beach, and had brought with him some 
specimens of his garden produce which 
he wished to contribute to our supper. 
The “specimens” were fine, pink- 
skinned potatoes. 
“They’re good, laddie. I almost live. 
on them mysel’—and they’re a staple’ 
for the pig and the poultry.” 
“Fine, Mac! Sit down, and I’ll have 
them peeled and in the pan in a jiffy.” 
“Peel them! Losh, mannie, you're! 
ravin’. The better pairt of the ’tatie 
is in the skin. Cook ’em in their 
jackets. Give me the pan and I’ll tak’ 
them to the spring an’ give them a bit 
wash. Don’t put the bird on the fire 
until the ’taties are biling.” 
Mac’s advice was good, and so, seated 
on a substantial plank of split cedar, 
we two leaned forward toward the 
glowing camp fire, and it was not long 
before there was the comforting sound 
(Continued on page 180) | 
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