Love such as theirs could never die... The tears came at last.
At sundown he walked home bearing an armful of rhododendrons and
dogwood blossoms, which he arranged in the room where she lay. Then
he sought the nurse who had attended her.
"I'd like to hold my son," he said gently. "May I?"
She brought him the baby and placed it in his great arms that
trembled so; he sat down and gazed long and earnestly at this flesh
of his flesh and blood of his blood. "You'll have her hair and skin
and eyes," he murmured. "My son, my son, I shall love you so, for now
I must love for two. Sorrow I shall keep from you, please God, and
happiness and worldly comfort shall I leave you when I go to her." He
nuzzled his grizzled cheek against the baby's face. "Just you and my
trees," he whispered, "just you and my trees to help me hang on to a
plucky finish."
For love and paternity had come to him late in life, and so had his
first great sorrow; wherefore, since he was not accustomed to these
heritages of all flesh, he would have to adjust himself to the
change. But his son and his trees--ah, yes, they would help. And he
would gather more redwoods now!
CHAPTER III
A young half-breed Digger woman, who had suffered the loss of the
latest of her numerous progeny two days prior to Mrs.
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