The Master-Knot of Human Fate | Page 3

jangle of bells, faintly audible over the
tumult, it sank out of sight, all the gleaming, dancing lights
disappearing in an instant. The white crests came on and broke about
the mountains, and receded and came on again with a deafening roar.
Then the crust of the earth between the mountain range and the spot
where the city had been, seemed to crack like a bit of dried orange peel,
and the flood rushed over the abyss, and there arose a blinding steam
that hid the whole scene below, and ascending circled the mountain
peaks in mist.
All about them on the mountain-side rose the cries of terrified wild
things, and along the narrow pathway into the park a herd of cattle and
horses rushed and disappeared among the aspens that trembled as never
before. The collie, scenting their presence, came and crouched whining
at their feet, and a bird fell exhausted into the woman's arms. She
closed her hands over it, unconsciously giving it the protection none

could give them, and in the fog moved toward the figure of her
companion. His arm closed about her convulsively.
"Shall we go farther up the mountain?" he asked.
"'If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now,'" she
answered, insensibly finding it easier to use another's words than to
coin phrases while holding death-watch over a continent.
They sat down on the boulder. After what seemed like countless hours,
she said, "I wonder how long we have been here. Perhaps it is years."
He looked at his watch. "I do not know whether we are in time or
eternity," he answered simply. "It is nearly four o'clock by this watch."
Through the dense vapor they saw the sun rise, red and sullen, but the
mist was so impenetrable that they dared not move about. The day and
night passed, almost without their knowledge, and the second morning
found them, as the first, by the great boulder. The wind rose with the
sun, and when it blew aside the veil of mist, far as the eye could reach,
there rolled a sea, white-capped, turbulent, fretful, as if unwilling to
leave a single peak to tower above its lordly dominion.
The man and woman followed the collie to the cabin, and there found
some food, then they retraced their way until they could look down
over the valley where the town had slept. Nothing was left. There was
not even a prospector's cabin. The shock which had succeeded the first
wild dash had been volcanic. The very cañons looked strange, and
though they called again and again there came no answer.
"Come," the man said imperiously. "Let us go to the Peak. There must
be some one there."
They reached the signal station late in the afternoon; no one was there.
Looking down from that awful eminence, they saw on the other side of
the range the same desolation, the same watery waste. They seemed to
be on an island, alone on a wide, wide sea. Nowhere curled a friendly
wreath of smoke; nowhere was there sound of any human thing.

They went wearily back. There was nowhere else to go. If the gateway
had been awful in its solitude, the Peak was still more desolate. There
was nothing living there, except themselves and the dog that followed
closely at their heels, making no excursions of its own. The hour was
wearing toward midnight when they sank down by the boulder once
more to watch the darkness disappear, and wait for they knew not what.
The man built a huge fire, so that if any other waifs had been left by
this wreck of a world they might see the beacon, and reply in some
fashion. They did not talk, except now and then, in a half whisper, they
gave monosyllabic queries and replies. The shock that had obliterated a
continent seemed to deprive them of all active use of their senses. They
moved only in circles, returning always to the place from which they
had watched the cataclysm.
It was almost sundown when, with a superhuman effort, they again
entered the sunny, beautiful park. The air was balmy, and there all
remained quite as before. In front of the cabin stood an Alderney; as
they approached her, she lowed uneasily. The woman looked up, and
then spoke aloud with the quick sympathy that had always been her
greatest attraction. She seemed to understand so readily, whether it was
a man's head, a woman's heart, or an animal's wants.
"She needs to be milked," she said, and pushing open the door she
entered the cabin. There were two rooms, the farther of which was
evidently a bedroom. There was a large fireplace at one end of