Standing behind a big cedar, he watched the train of blue vapour and thin red sparks creep on through the dusk until a blaze of yellow flame leapt up, and a stunning detonation rolled across the woods.

The hillsides took up the sound, and flung it from one to another in great reverberations, while the pines, quivering in all their sprays, shook drops of water down.

Alton stood still and listened, silent and intent, while the discord died, until there was once more stillness again, realizing dimly a little of its significance.
It was man's challenge to the wilderness that had lain sterile long, and he could forecast the grimness, but not the end of the coming struggle with rock and flood and snow.

Other men had gone down vanquished in such a fight, he knew, and the forest they slept in had closed once more upon and hidden the little scars they made.

Jimmy had also challenged savage nature, and Jimmy was dead, while the man who came after him stood alone, dripping still, and weary, amidst the whispering pines: he had more than the wilderness against him.