elt a curious little thrill as the clamour of the river
came up to him in long pulsations. The sound of the waters was growing
louder when Gordon, with a big axe in his hand, materialized out of
the shadows, and strode forward impulsively at the sight of him.

"Hand better? We're glad to see you; but you might have stayed another
day or two," he said.

Nasmyth laughed. "Well," replied he, "perhaps it's a little curious,
considering everything, but I was impatient to get back again. In
fact, I feel more at home each time I scramble down from the divide."

He glanced round through the sliding snow at the dim white range and
ranks of towering pines, and, as he did so, the roar of the river and
the wail of trees that swayed beneath a fierce wind filled the
rock-walled hollow. Then the persistent clink of drills and thud of
axes broke out again, while here and there the blurred white figure of
a toiling man emerged from the snow. It was a picture that a man
unused to the wilderness might have shrunk from, but Gordon understood
his comrade. They were engaged in a great struggle, with the powers of
savage Nature arrayed against them; but it was with a curious
quickening of all the strength that was in them, mental and physical,
that they braced themselves for the conflict.

"I have a thing or two to tell you, but we'll get into the shanty and
have supper first. The boys are just quitting work," remarked Gordon.

They clambered down over a practicable trail, though part of it was
covered deep with snow, crept in and out among the boulders by the
light of a great fire that blazed above the fall, and found Mattawa
laying a meal out when they reached the shanty. Neither Nasmyth nor
Gordon said anything of consequence until after the meal, and then
Nasmyth, who had put on his deer-hide jacket and duck trousers, flung
himself down in an empty packing-case that was stuffed with soft
spruce twigs, and looked about him with a smile of contentment. A lamp
hung above him, and its light gleamed upon axes, drills, iron wedges,
and crosscut saws, and made a chequered pattern of brightness and
shadow on the rude log walls. A glowing stove diffused a cosy warmth,
and the little room was filled with the odours of tobacco and drying
boots and clothes.

"I suppose you saw Wisbech?" observed Gordon. "Miss Waynefleet told
one of the boys, who was through at the settlement, that she had a
note from him asking if she'd get a letter he or Acton