The Sky Pilot

at the door of my school, watching the children ride off home on their ponie

ing his bronco to a dead stop

looking round for an eagle

id-looks too tender for this climate. Better not let h

matter wit

No, sirree, horse! I don't want no blankety-blank, pink-and-white complected nursery kid foolin' round my gra

ofanity with which he adorned this lengthy address. It was never the extent

dy wanted him. To most of the reckless young bloods of the Company of the Noble Seven his presence was an offence; to others simply a nuisa

ugh, hard faces that were to be seen in the Swan Creek Country. It was not a weak face, however. The forehead was high and square, the mouth firm, and the eyes were luminous, of some dark color-violet, if there is such

hills and the blue line of the mountains behind them. He tur

it's a great thing? I wanted to be one, but I never could get the boys on. They always got me telling them tales. I was awfully disappointed. I am trying the next best thing. You see,

nthusiasm, his deference to my opinion, his charm of manner, his beautiful face, his luminous eyes, made him perfectly irresistible; and before I was aware I was listening to his pla

but do you know, I th

of Latour's feeli

h me," he add

face wreathed in unusual smiles. Th

" and he broke into the beautiful French-Canadian chanson, "A la

with French-Canadian raftsmen, mixing up his French and English in so charming a manner that Latour; who in his y

from the nearest rising ground. Latour, with unexa

well," prote

ak wan leetle mouse; he's ride lak-what you call?-wan hors

e luminous eyes of The Pilot. We rode up the trail by the side of

"we must get to the

the deep shadows and asked:

nd wolves

o you know, I was sure there were,

tant edge the gray haze was deepening into purple. Before us lay the hills, softly curving like the shoulders of great sleeping monsters, their tops still bright, but the separating valleys full of shadow. And there, far beyond them, up against the sky, was the line of the mountains-blue, purple, and gold, according as the light fell upon them. The sun had taken his plunge, but he had left behind him his robes of s

curving shoulders, I fancied I could see them slowly heaving as if in heavy sleep, and I was quite sure I co

hen which he heeded not; and, with hardly a good night, he left me at the door. I

and eyes? What a curious mixture he was! I was doubtful about his first Sunday, and was surprised to find all my indifference

hought over my last two hours with The Pilot and how he had "got" old Latour and