find my slipper safe and sound to-morrow morning." But her search next day proved vain; fresh snow had fallen during the night, and the lost slipper, she thought, was probably buried deep beneath the soft white covering.

Several years passed. Her parents moved to Moscow, where, in the course of time, she married an officer in the Emperor's guards. In her husband's study, on the mantel-shelf, she often noticed, among other knick-knacks, a girl's dainty but faded satin slipper. It certainly seemed familiar to her, but though she often wondered about it, she never could remember where and when she had seen just such a shoe as that. At last her curiosity grew to such a pitch- the old slipper was always half-reminding her of something, she knew not exactly what-that she decided to question her husband about it.

"It is an old story," he answered, "and happened many years ago. I was then a young fellow, just beginning life, and traveling posthaste to join my regiment. Happening to pass through a village one evening, at a great speed (my horses being fresh and in high spirits), I suddenly felt a stinging blow on the cheek; I heard an exclamation from the other side of a fence and something dropped into the sleigh. The 'something' proved to be a satin slipper, and as I took it up, my cheek tingling with pain, I own that I felt very angry and indignant at this unexpected assault.

"Then I remembered it was Twelfth Night; I remembered, too, the ancient custom, and by that time my wrath had calmed down. I even thought of turning back and delivering the weapon into the fair hands that had, uninten

tionally, dealt the blow; but on looking round, I perceived that the village, Krasnoe' I think it was called, was far behind us, and I, still holding the slipper in my hand, was being carried along over the snowy steppes at full speed.

"I have never since been in that part of the country, nor have I any idea whose feet once tripped about gaily in this old thing; but I came to have a tender feeling for it. I was sorry for the girl who had surely been looking for it and probably wondered about its mysterious disappearance, and as time rolled on I somehow came to associate it with my early youth and all its golden dreams; that is why I have kept it all through these past ten years. You are not jealous, dear, are you?" he added, smiling.

"Jealous! of my own old slipper? she cried. "This is fun! Why, it is mine, mine, mine!" and she clapped her hands and laughed a joyous, ringing laugh. "You said the village was Krasnoe, on Twelfth Night, and just ten years ago? Why, it must be mine! From the very first I thought it looked familiar and like an old friend! Ten years ago! I was fifteen then, and, oh, so tired of lessons, lessons, lessons, and snow, snow, snow, all day long, with nobody of my age near, and the winter evenings so lonely and dull that one evening I decided to try the old experiment, and see whether there was any hope of a change for me. And it has come true! for did n't it strike you on the cheek? Poor old cheek!" and she' patted it tenderly.

So you see "fate-reading" for that once, so far as I know, did come true, and though nobody believes in it, it is still indulged in as a pleasant after-dinner pastime during the winter evenings.

platform fifteen or twenty feet high, upon which a watchman slept, fully armed, while the sheepand wolf-dogs were kept below, and the horses near by.

mountain-lion of that time. He was not to be "pulled down" by anything; and if he had been "pulled down," that was exactly the position in which he fought best. With his back protected by the earth, and all four fearfully armed paws flying free, aided by his terrible teeth, and a body so strong that it could not be held in any position-well, when he was "down" was the time that he was most "up." He once was found in all the Rocky Mountain regions, from the jaguar-haunted tropical forests of the extreme South to the home of the Northern winter blizzard; but he attained his greatest size and ferocity on the subtropical plateau of northern Mexico, New Mexico, and Arizona.

These animals are no longer what they were. The tourist or hunter of to-day cannot hope to find any of the old-time power or ferocity; and he will mistake if he judges them by their present degenerate kind. The advent of the white hunter, armed with rifle and revolver, fearless of anything mortal, and waging incessant, merciless war upon all wild beasts, has slaughtered all their hugest champions, and has cowed their savage courage, until now they slink away in unresisting panic, and are afraid even of the dogs that lead their pursuer to his prey. Animals certainly do communicate ideas, and they have trained all their children to abject fear of the invincible monarch, man.

After the early pioneer days of lone settlers and small flocks had passed, certain rich men of the West began to establish large sheepranches in carefully selected locations. Where the first settlers reared only the hardiest coarsewooled sheep, were now produced the finest long-wool merino fleeces of the world. These improved sheep are greatly more delicate and defenseless than their predecessors, and have to be more carefully tended and defended against wild beasts.

Among the early sheep-masters of note the firm of Wigglesworth & Swayne started a chain of ranches, each stocked with from three hundred to one thousand improved sheep, in charge of bold and trusty young men, with horses, arms, dogs, traps, poisons, and provisions.

Each ranch had its big corral in which the sheep were yarded at night, overlooked by a

Mountain-lions soon became the most dreaded enemies of these great flocks of sheep. They congregated about the ranches from far distances. They would not touch poisoned carrion. They never meddled with traps. They hunted stragglers from the flocks by day, and at night they leaped into the corral, where, with bloodthirsty ferocity, they would kill many sheep in a few minutes, preferring to kill a number rather than to stop and satisfy their hunger with one or two. They also pounced upon stray dogs, and tore to pieces the dogs that attacked them.

Wigglesworth & Swayne made costly experiments to procure lion-hunting dogs. Their agents ransacked all Europe and America for breeds of dogs capable of coping with the mountain-lions. After many difficulties they secured, out of thirty, three dogs of great size and strength, fair scent, indomitable fierceness, lithe quickness, and intelligent cunning. These three tall dogs could, combined, kill a mountain-lion. They were extraordinarily cunning in attack and defense, were singularly powerful, and "fought together" with wonderful fidelity to one another. They did it by worrying the enemy with incessant feints, skirmishes, and surprises, avoiding a grapple until the great cat had wasted its strength and spent its quickness in vain efforts. All these dogs needed was to be let alone, therefore; interference only distracted them.

Storms are rare in that region; but, one afternoon, the setting sun was obscured by streaky clouds that streamed over the crests of the distant hills, a dash of slanting rain fell, and the winds raved, threatening a wild night. When the storm first began to show itself, men and dogs hurriedly collected their scattered flocks and drove them to the big corral, where Dick Bryant, head man of the ranch, rapidly counted them in. Two were missing-a large wether and a ewe with a clipped ear.

"Hi, Woolwit!" cried Jeff Sillsby to Frank Swayne, a boy of fifteen years, nephew of one of the proprietors, sent to the ranch to learn that part of the business, "they were in the

"FRANK SAT IN

loaded revolvers when they waked in the morning, and wore them till they lay down at night. They slept with all their arms within handreach. No one went out, even so near as to take a lazy pipe-stroll around to the corral, without carrying his rifle. Certainly nobody ever mounted and rode off unless fully armed. Habit made this easy second nature to the men. But to lug a heavy rifle all day, with no use for

it, soon became tiresome to Frank, and the weight of his belt, with revolver and cartridges, irked him. He had not yet seen the necessity for such strict discipline, because one might possibly go a whole year at the ranch, and never really need either rifle or revolver; but when one did need it, his need was apt to be instant and fearful.

The shamed and half-angry boy urged his