The supper was forgotten.

Coming to the clump of cedars just above the Old Trail where it turns the shoulder of the hill from the west, he stopped for a last look.
Beyond this point, he would turn his back upon the scene that interested him so deeply.
The young man could not remember when he had not loved Sammy Lane.
She seemed to have been always a part of his life.

It was the season of the year when all the wild things of the forest choose their mates, and as the big fellow stood there looking down upon the home of the girl he loved, all the splendid passion of his manhood called for her.

It seemed to him that the whole world was slipping away to leave him alone in a measureless universe.

He almost cried aloud.