Stooping, he lifted it triumphantly. He set the butt-end on one of his
shoulders and, stretching his arms up, grasped the trunk and held the
tree straight in the air, so that it seemed to be growing out of his
big shoulder as out of a ledge of rock. Then he turned to her and
laughed out in his strength and youth. She laughed joyously back at
him, glorying as he did.
With a robust re-shouldering of the tree to make it more comfortable
to carry, he turned and started up the hill toward the house. As she
followed behind, the old mystery of the woods seemed at last to have
taken bodily possession of him. The fir was riding on his shoulder,
its arms met fondly around his neck, its fingers were caressing his
hair. And it whispered back jeeringly to her through the twilight:
"Say farewell to him! He was once yours; he is yours no longer. He
dandles the child of the forest on his shoulder instead of his
children by you in the house. He belongs to Nature; and as Nature
calls, he will always follow--though it should lead over the precipice
or into the flood. Once Nature called him to you: remember how he
broke down barriers until he won you. Now he is yours no longer--say
good-by to him!"
With an imbued terror and desolation, she caught up with him.
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