"It's got down now to a simple matter of holding on—for a few months more. In October we start the sheep down—we'll be nearer the settlements and the protection of law. Besides, a lot of the public domain becomes National Forest on the same date—by an act of Congress—and then there will be a big force of forest rangers here to protect us. If we can stay, and fight them off, and protect the flock until that time—we've won. But I'm almost tired of trying."
Her voice dropped from tone to tone, then ceased. The silence of the wilderness was left. Hugh glanced across the glowing coals, haunted by the girl's beauty, wondering at the flood of new emotions that swept over him. "I suppose—if I hadn't happened along—you'd not know where to look for another herder," he suggested.
She nodded slowly. "It would have pretty near been the end."
"And what if I should decide—to stay here clear through the summer, clear to the time to take the flocks down to the lower levels."
She looked up, a strange, brooding concern in her face. "I don't know that I have a right to ask you," she said slowly. "This isn't play, Hugh—it seems so natural to call you that. One man already has been killed. I don't know that I have a right to ask you to risk your life. But father is old—and he had such high hopes—and it means so much. No, I can't ask you to stay."
He leaned forward, more earnestness in his
