The sky had become overcast again, and the tops of the hills showed vaguely in the dusk: grey snow against grey sky, adding to the sense of desolation. To the southeast, where the trail winds its way toward Longview and the prairie, I could just make out the corner of the hill from which the lights of home were first visible on a winter night. What a home this was then How wonderful, after the cold, dark miles, to come in to the warm, bright kitchen, redolent with the smell of fresh baked bread and little boy's bath water And dear Mother, welcoming me in with my saddlebags, eagerly going...