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Updated: May 13, 2025
Then quietly she released herself. She stood away from him holding one of his great hands in both of hers. "Quick! Now my horse." Iredale departed, and Prudence was left alone. She stood looking after him thinking, thinking. "Can I do it?" she asked herself. Damside City was the nearest telegraph station.
Set the fires going." Prudence swung her mare out on to the overgrown trail to Damside City. Kitty was a trim-built little "broncho," compact, well-ribbed, and with powerful shoulders and chest. She was just the animal to "stay" and travel fast. The road cut through the heart of the Owl Hoot bush, and ran in a diagonal direction, south-west towards the border.
He had just disconnected his instrument and was standing in his doorway gazing out across the prairie to the east, watching the vast clouds of smoke belching from the direction of the woods. All about him was a heavy haze, and a nasty taste of smoke was in his mouth. He looked across to the only other buildings which formed the city of Damside, the grain elevator and the railway siding buildings.
She swung her mare round and galloped down the valley to the north. Her object was to clear the valley and then turn off to the west on the almost disused trail to Damside. Iredale looked after her until the sound of the mare's hoofs died away in the distance. He was filled with wonder at her strange request and her hurried departure.
Then she told them how, recognizing George's danger, she had resolved to intercept Hervey, and, with her mother's assistance, pay him off; and, finally, how she had been overtaken by the forest fire; and how, her mare exhausted, she had arrived at Damside in time to send her message to her brother; and how, failing any other means of returning home, she had taken shelter with the elevator clerk's wife until her mare had recovered and she was able to resume her journey to the farm.
Then it converged with the border trail which skirted the great southern muskeg, and, passing through a broken, stony country, went on to Damside. The wind was rapidly freshening, and the scudding clouds were quickly changing from white to grey, which, to the girl's practised mind, indicated an immediate change of weather.
"Good Kitty, faithful little mare," she exclaimed emotionally. Then she looked ahead and she remembered all. "But on, girl, on. There is more to do yet." The telegraph operator at Damside was closing up his little shack.
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