Louise, humming a song, rode slowly along the Moonstone Canon Trail. At
the "double turn" in the canon, where dwelt Echo and her myrmidons,
Louise rode more slowly.
"Dreaming Fance, the cobbler's son, took his tools and laces,
Wrought her shoes of scarlet dye, shoes as pale as snow.
They shall lead her wild-rose feet all the faery paces,
Danced along the road of love, the road such feet should go."
She sang slowly, pausing after each line that the echoes might not blur.
"Danced along ... along ... the road ... of love, the road ... of
love ... of love," sang the echoes.
Louise smiled dreamily. Then the clatter of Boyar's shod hoofs rang and
reechoed, finally to hush in the gravel of the ford beyond.
Why Louise thought of Collie just then, it would be difficult to
imagine. Still, she had, ever since his night's vigil with the blunder
colt, caught herself noting little details associated with him and his
work. He brushed his teeth. Not all of the other men did. He did not
chew tobacco. Despite his lack of early training, he was naturally neat.
He disliked filth instinctively. His bits, spurs, and trappings shone.
He had learned to shoe his string of ponies--an art that is fast
becoming lost among present-day cowmen.
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