Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1912)

The Trail Thru the Hills (Kalem) By FELIX DODGE From the Scenario of F. j. Marion The hills rang with song and laughter that bright May morning. The little band of pioneers were wending their way into the Land of Promise, with no thought of peril tainting their fair dreams. If bright and shining example of happiness counted for anything, the party had it in the persons of Harry Livingstone and Mary Lane, who, as usual, rode side by side in advance of the others, as tho the rough trail were a bed of roses. The end of the trail meant to these two the realization of youth's sweetest dream — love fulfilled. Such is the power of love to turn, for the time, the hearts and minds of all who are brought in contact with it, from anxiety to joy, from sinister thoughts and even pain and peril to bright dreams ! For the unsuspecting pioneers were that moment touching elbows with dire peril. Two savages crawled like snakes in the tall grass, not a hundred yards away, who could, with a single sting from their venomous muskets, have stilled forever the hearts of the happy pair. But this would have spoiled their more ambitious plan of a complete massacre. So they stole away as rapidly and stealthily as they had come, toward a point three miles to the eastward, where the main body of the wandering tribe had just finished a piece of work to their complete satisfaction. After a desperate battle against overwhelming odds, Pat Regan, his wife and three sons had been shot to pieces in their little cabin before it burned to the ground. One member of the unfortunate family had escaped death, however, unknown to the murderers. Kitty Regan, returning from an early morning visit to the nearest settler, had heard the ominous musket shots and had approached guardedly. Ten min 113 .utes later she startled the company of pioneers from their happy reveries, who were all sympathy in a moment, and prepared to follow her, knowing full well now that some of their number would never reach that bright earthly land of promise. Harry was the first to volunteer to go, and lingering a moment to take in his arms the girl he might never see again, he rode away to join the relief party, with brave Kitty at their head. A few minutes later Mary lifted her tear-stained face apprehensively at the sound of some one slowly approaching. It was Harry, leading his pony. "Gone hopelessly lame!" he said, tugging at the injured brute's bridle to hurry him on. "Oh, Harry!" cried the girl, running forward with brightening eyes, "then you wont have to leave me — maybe to be killed by those bloodthirsty Indians ! ' ' Harry was carefully scrutinizing the three ponies tethered near the prairie-schooner. ' ' Oh, I 'm so glad, Harry, for I was filled with a dread — a feeling that — that I'd never see you again. And I'm sure I wouldn't have, if you had gone ! ' ' "Mary," said the young man, running his hand gently over her hair, "I've got to go — they need me." She looked at him, a growing terror expanding the pupils of her pretty eyes. "But, Harry dear," she almost whispered, ' ' cant you see that it was just fate that made old Ben go lame — and brought you back? I tell you I know it — I know it!" "Even so," he said solemnly, "I've got to go, little girl. We both know that." The girl looked at him proudly. "Yes — you are right — no matter what happens, you must go!"