The Golden Woman

"Stop right here with the women," he said. "I'm goin' around that lake--seems to me we need to get a peek at it."

Joan understood something of what he feared. She remembered the weirdness of that suspended lake, and thought with a shudder of the dreadful earth quakings. So she watched him go with heart well-nigh breaking.

Buck moved cautiously away into the gloom. He knew the lake shore well. The evident volcanic origin of it might well answer many questions and doubts in his mind. Its rugged shore offered almost painful difficulties with the, now, incessant quakings below. But he struggled on till he came to the eminence he sought. Here he took up a position, lying on his stomach so that he had a wide view of the surface of the wind-swept water.

He remained for a long while watching, watching, and striving to digest the signs he beheld. They were many, and alarming. But their full meaning was difficult to his untutored mind.

Here it was that the Padre ultimately found him. He had been gone so long that the elder man's uneasiness for his safety had sent him in search.

"What d'you make of it, Buck?" he demanded, as he came up, his apprehensions finding no place in his manner.

Buck displayed no surprise. He did not even turn his head.

"The fires are hotting. The water's nigh boiling. There's goin' to be a mighty bust-up."

The Padre looked out across the water.

"There's fire around us, fire above us, and now--fire under us. We've got to choose which we're going to face, Buck--quick."

The Padre's voice was steady. His feelings were under perfect control.

Buck laughed grimly.

"Ther's fire we know, an' fire we don't. Guess we best take the fire we know."

They continued to gaze out across the lake in silence after that. Then the Padre spoke again.

"What about the horses?" he asked.

The question seemed to trouble Buck, for he suddenly caught his breath. But, in a moment, his answer came with decision.

"Guess they must take their chances," he said. "Same as we have to. I hate to leave him, but Cæsar's got sense."

"Yes."

The Padre's eyes were fixed upon one spot on the surface of the water. It was quite plain, even in that light, that a seething turmoil was going on just beneath it. He pointed at the place, but went on talking of the other things in his mind.

"Say, you best take this pocketbook. We may get separated before the night's out. It's half the farm money. You see--ther's no telling," he ended up vaguely.