It was like flying, for the path was worn smooth with his feet and baked hard with the sun almost all the way.

When he came to the bark, he veered far to one side and smiled at it in passing.

Suddenly he was off the wheel, kneeling beside it.

He removed his hat, carefully lifted the bark, and gazed lovingly at the imprint.
"I wonder what she was going to say of me voice," he whispered.

"She never got it said, but from the face of her, I believe she was liking it fairly well.