Sowing the Wind

The noonday meal was a rather quiet, constrained affair. None of the
three was in a talkative mood, Donald was still distrait, Big Jerry
obviously in physical and mental distress, and Rose too full of troubled
sympathy for conversation. Frequently Donald caught her gaze fixed on
the old man's face with an expression of unutterable love; and as often,
when she saw him watching her, her face lighted for a moment with a
tender, compassionate smile.

The eagerly anticipated vacation and reunion had truly begun badly, and
it was with a sense of relief that Donald finished the simple dinner,
and announced that he guessed he would go for a little tramp in the
woods, while Rose was performing her household tasks.

"Hain't yo' ergoin' ter tote yo'r rifle-gun?" queried Big Jerry, as he
noticed that the doctor was leaving the house without a weapon.

"No, not this trip. I'm not in a mood for hunting. All I want is a
walk,--and a stout club and Mike will be protection enough against
anything in these woods. Good-by, Smiles. I'll be back before
supper-time, hungry as a bear."

He left the clearing for the virgin woods at random, striding along
briskly and with rising spirits, and at first unmindful of the direction
that he was taking.

In fact he had, subconsciously--even in his recreation--refused to
follow the easiest way, and had struck out on the up-mountain trail.