is gained to the network of
water routes that radiate over the fur country.

Lone Moose Creek was, so to speak, a trunk line. The ninety miles of its
main channel, its many diverging branches, tapped a region where mink
and marten and beaver, fox and wolf and lesser furs were still fairly
plentiful. Along Lone Moose a dozen Cree and half-breed families
disappeared into the back country during the hazy softness of Indian
summer and came gliding down in the spring with their winter's catch, a
birch-bark flotilla laden indiscriminately with mongrel dogs and
chattering women and children and baled furs and impassive-faced men,
bound for Port Pachugan to the annual barter.

Up Lone Moose some twenty-odd miles from the lake the social instinct
had drawn a few families, pure-blooded Cree, and Scotch and French
half-breeds, to settle in a permanent location. There was a
crescent-shaped area of grassy turf fronting upon the eastern bank of
Lone Moose, totaling perhaps twenty acres. Its outer edge was ringed
with a dense growth of spruce timber. In the fringe of these dusky
woods, at various intervals of distance, could be seen the outline of
each cabin. They were much of a sort--two or three rooms, log-walled,
brush laid upon poles, and sod on top of that for a roof, with
fireplaces built partly of mud, partly of rough stones. Folk in such
circumstances waste no labor in ornamentation. Each family's abiding
place was purely utilitarian. They cultivated no land, and the meadow
during the brief season supplied them with a profusion of delicate
flowers a southern garden could scarcely excel. Aside from a few trees
felled about each home site, their common effort had cleared away the
willows and birch which bordered the creek bank, so that an open landing
was afforded the canoes.

There was but one exception to the monotonous similitude of these
several habitations. A few paces back from the stream and standing
boldly in the open rose a log house double the size of any other there.
It contained at least four rooms. Its windows were of ample size, the
doors neatly carpentered. A wide porch ran on three sides. It bore about
itself an air of homely comfort, heightened by muslin at the windows, a
fringe of poppies and forget-me-nots blooming in an orderly row before
it, and a sturdy vine laden with morning-glories twining up each
supporting column of the porch roof.

Between the house and the woods an acre square was enclosed by a