Northwest! by Harold Bindloss

The morning was calm and Jimmy, walking by Margaret's horse, turned his head. Faint, sweet notes stole across the rocks and he knew the distant chime of cow-bells. As a rule, the elfin music moved him. Where the cow-bells rang, cornfields and orchards advanced up the valleys and man drove back the forest, but Jimmy's satisfaction was blunted. For two days Margaret and he had pushed through the quiet woods. In the cold evenings they had talked by the snapping fire, but now the romantic journey was near its end.

After a few minutes Margaret stopped the horse. In front, dark pines rolled up the hill and the long rows of ragged tops looked like the waves of an advancing tide that broke against the rocks. Across the valley, the sun touched the snow, and at the bottom of a broken slope a lake sparkled. Jimmy saw its surface rippled, for a Chinook wind blew and the frost was gone. Near the end of the lake a plume of smoke streaked the trees.