The mind of the Mountain-Lover was still on the cairns, as his eyes followed the quiet little guides of the Marlborough-ravine trail, for many were visible from where he sat. He spoke the words out loud to the eagle which swooped nearer him. He could see its white head. His eyes followed it as it lifted itself high once more.
Recent shattering experiences of the war, with all the bewilderment they brought to nearly everyone in their newness to human life; the loss of all familiar landmarks; the sweeping-away of former standards; the puzzlement of former beliefs torn from their roots; lives slashed straight across—it all made readjustment of soul and body necessary in the new, sharp-cornered world in which one found oneself. The Mountain-Lover like most others, had been holding his mind with both hands to keep himself steady, for he could not always tell whether it was he himself that was whirling
