like sheep, when thar's all this, an' millions of places like it, whar
ye kin breathe the air as the Lord made it, an' not fouled by the work
of human bein's."

"You are very fond of this wild life, I see," Reynolds replied. "Have
you lived here many years?"

The prospector threw aside his burnt match, gave his pack an extra
hitch, picked up his rifle and moved forward.

"Guess we'd better git on," he said. "Thar's a little brook we want to
reach in time fer dinner. Ye don't find much water in these valleys."

Reynolds moved along by his companion's side, wondering why he did not
answer his question. It was not until they were eating their dinner by
the side of the brook did Samson vouchsafe any information.

"Ye asked me if I've been long in this country," he began. "My reply
may seem strange to you, but it's true. Judgin' by years, I've been
here a long time, but, accordin' to life, only a little while. I uster
reckon things by years, but I don't do that any longer."

"No?" Reynolds looked quizzically at his companion.

"I don't count time by years, young man, an' the sooner ye larn to do
the same the better it'll be fer ye. In the cities ye find clocks an'
watches everywhere, an' they all remind people that time is passin'.
Ye kin hardly walk along a street hut ye'll see funeral processions,
an' the doctors are busy with the sick. Big hospitals are crowded with
patients, an' accidents happen every minute of the day. These all tell