y. "An' why not? My poor friend
that was killed when he left his native place swore he'd never go back,
an' no more he did--no more he did; though he little thought that death
would step in so soon to make him keep his word."

"Was Louis your friend who died?" inquired March with much interest and
not a little pity, for he observed that his companion was deeply
affected.

Dick did not reply. His thoughts seemed to be wandering again, so March
forbore to interrupt him, and, turning to Mary, said in a more cheerful
tone--

"Whether would ye like to go to Pine Point settlement and stay with my
mother, or that I should come here and spend the winter with you and
Dick?"

Mary looked puzzled, and after some moments' consideration replied, "Me
don't know." Then, looking up quickly, she added, "Which _you_ like?"

"Indeed, I must make the same reply, Mary--`I don't know.' But, as I
can't expect my friend Dick to give up his wild life, I suppose I must
make up my mind to come here."

"March," said Dick quickly, "I've changed my mind, lad. It won't do.
You'll have to spend next winter at home--anyhow ye can't spend it with
me."

Had a thunderbolt struck the earth between March and Mary, they would
not have been filled with half so much consternation as they were on
hearing these words. It was plain that both had thoroughly made up
their minds that they were to be together for many months to come. Dick
noted the effect of his remark, and a peculiar frown crossed his
countenance for a moment, but it gave place to a smile, as he said--

"I'm sorry to disappoint ye, lad, but the thing cannot be."

"Cannot be!" repeated March in a tone of exasperation, for he felt that
this was an unwarrantable piece of caprice on the part of his friend;
"surely you don't claim to be chief of the Rocky Mountains! If I choose
to come an' spend the winter in this region, you have no right to
prevent me. And if I offer to bring you furs and venison, besides
pretty good company, will ye be such a surly knave as to refuse me a
corner of your cave?"

"Nay, lad. Right welcome would ye be, with or without furs or venison;
but I mean to leave the cave--to quit this part of the country
altogether. The fact is, I'm tired of it, an' want a change."

"Very good, all right, an' what's to hinder my going with you? I'm fond
o' change myself. I'd as soon go one way as another."

Dick shook his head. "It's o' no use, March, I've my own rea