Bashful, boyish, unused to the company of girls, he had found it hard to meet Alta half way and enjoy life’s riches the more by sharing them. But this innocence and native modesty was the very thing that made possible the sweet companionship that gradually grew between them. Alta had no serious thoughts of love at that time; no more had Fred; yet something strangely sweet was in their friendship. They loved to be together. She was so natural, so full of sweet surprises that she charmed and held him. His eyes were bright with intelligence, his heart pure and warm. She trusted him instinctively; she found in him a kindred spirit. She looked through his eyes upon the world about her, and her heart leaped to feel that there was some one else who enjoyed in like measure the things that thrilled her. So it happened that she often sought him. So it happened that they grew to be as brother and sister romping hand in hand together over nature’s playground, this wild western valley in its native glory, before commercialism had stretched its barbed fences across the trails and laid out its artificial roads for men to follow, driving with discordant noises the wild life away forever. “Law me!” exclaimed Aunt ‘Liza the next morning during breakfast, “I wish I had some gooseberries or cherries to make a pie. I’m gettin’ tired of beef and taters and rice puddin’.” “Will currants do?” asked Alta. “Currants! Law, yes; any kind o’ fruit’ll do; but a body can’t git nuthin’ like that in this country. It makes me homesick for old Pottawattamie County back in Ioway, where there’s tons o’ fruit fer the pickin’.” “Yes, but there are plenty of wild currants here too,” Alta responded, “up along the creek. I found a fine patch there the other day.” “Land sakes! why didn’t you fetch some home?” “I had no way to carry them; but if you like I’ll get some to-day.” “Yes, and git out o’ helpin’ wash! But never mind, I’ll excuse you if you’ll bring in somethin’ good to eat. Jest wash up these dishes while I set the clothes to movin’ and you kin go.” Her work quickly cleared, Alta was on Eagle a few moments later, galloping briskly toward the creek. Up near the old ford the currant bushes were thick; and this year they were bending with their juicy brown fruit. It was near where Fred grazed his herd. She came upon him this morning chasing two unruly heifers out of the brush. “Good morning,” he called cheerfully; “what brings you here to-day?” “Oh, I’m fishing again,” she responded laughingly; “fishing for berries this time.” She raised her pail as she spoke. “Poor place to get berries. They are thicker across the creek. I found a patch of the best wild strawberries there that I ever tasted.” “Strawberries!” exclaimed Alta, “why, they don’t grow here, do they? I said berries, but I meant currants.” “Come along and I’ll prove it,” he replied, “it’s just a little way.”