he said. And the girl raised her face, so that her shining eyes were on
Jolly Roger.

Still dumbly he stood where he was.

"The Missioner from Du Brochet was here yesterday, and married us," he
heard Cassidy saying. "And we've written out my resignation together,
old man. We've both won. I thank God you put that bullet into me down
on the shore, for it's brought me paradise. And here's my hand on it,
McKay--forever and ever!"

Half an hour later, when McKay stumbled out into the forest trail
again, his eyes were blinded by tears and his heart choked by a new
hope as big as the world itself. Yellow Bird was right, and God must
have been with her that night when her soul went to commune with
Nada's. For Yellow Bird had proved herself again. And now he believed
her.

He believed in the world again. He believed in love and happiness and
the glory of life, and as he went down the narrow trail to his canoe,
with Peter close behind him, his heart was crying out Nada's name and
Yellow Bird's promise that sometime--somewhere--they two would find
happiness together, as Giselle and Terence Cassidy had found it.

And Peter heard the chopping of the distant axe, and the song of birds,
and the chattering of squirrels--but thrilling his soul most of all was
the voice of his master, the old voice, the glad voice, the voice he
had first learned to love at Cragg's Ridge in the days of blue violets
and red strawberries, when Nada had filled his world.

CHAPTER XIII

McKay still had his mind on a certain stretch of timber that reached
out into the Barren Lands, hundreds of miles farther north. In this
hiding place, three years before, he had built himself a cabin, and had
caught foxes during half the long winter. Not only the cabin, but the
foxes, were drawing him. Necessity was close upon his heels. What
little money he possessed after leaving Cragg's Ridge was exhausted,
his supplies were gone, and his boots and clothes were patched with
deer hide.

In the Snowbird Lake country, a week after he left Cassidy in his
paradise at Wollaston, he fell in with good fortune. Two trappers had
come in from Churchill. One of them was sick, and the other needed help
in the building of their winter cabin. McKay remained with them for ten
days, and when he continued his journey northward his pack was stuffed
with supplies, and he wore new boots and more comfortable clothes.

It was the middle of October when he found his old cabin,