SON OF THE WIND
"It means—?" Carron prompted, very cautious for fear of startling her.
"It means—oh, I don't see how I can put it into words. It means something quick and beautiful and heavenly fearless! There is a strange feeling you have about a creature that has never been touched by a man, and that has forgotten men."
"But there's a difference in degree. You have found that so?"
"Oh, yes. The squirrels, of course, as long as they don't see you, feel perfectly safe. Foxes are not so easy. But some are almost impossible to watch without their knowing—the larger animals, the ones that sniff you. Yet, if ever you can, when you can, though it's only for a moment, seeing them is the most wonderful thing in the world. It makes your heart beat. It's like seeing a spirit."
Carron lay for a moment without speaking, studying her face. "Did it never occur to you, when you are looking at such animals, that it would be even more wonderful to catch them?"
"No. I would rather see them killed than caught."
She blushed for the vehemence with which she had spoken.
Carron bit his lip. "My dear young friend, do you think that is quite sensible?"
"No," she said, "I don't. But I don't think it is
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