is he
hewed square, the four flat sides of the post facing respectively the
cardinal points of the compass. On one smoothed surface Bill set to
work with his pocketknife. Hazel sat down and watched while he busied
himself at this. And when he had finished she read, in deep-carved
letters:

W. WAGSTAFF'S S. E. CORNER.

Then he penned on a sheet of letter paper a brief notice to the effect
that he, William Wagstaff, intended to apply for the purchase of the
land embraced in an area a half mile square, of which the post was the
south-east corner mark. This notice he fastened to the stump with a
few tacks, and sat down to rest from his labors.

"How long do you suppose that will stay there, and who is there to read
it, if it does?" Hazel observed.

"Search me. The moose and the deer and the timber wolves, I guess,"
Bill grinned. "The chances are the paper won't last long, with winds
and rains. But it doesn't matter. It's simply a form prescribed by
the Land Act of British Columbia, and, so long as I go through the
legal motions, that lets me out. Matter of form, you know."

"Then what else do you have to do?"

"Nothing but furnish the money when the land department gets around to
accept my application," he said. "I can get an agent to attend to all
the details. Oh, I have to furnish a description of the land by
natural boundaries, to give them an idea of about where it's situated.
Well, let's take a look at our estate from another corner."

This, roughly ascertained by sighting a line with the compass and
stepping off eight hundred and eighty yards, brought them up on a knoll
that commanded the small basin of which the clearing was practically in
the center.

"Aha;" Bill exclaimed. "Look at our ranch, would you; our widespread
acres basking in the sun. A quarter section is quite a chunk. Do you
know I never thought much about it before, but there's a piece of the
finest land that lies outdoors. I wasn't looking for land when I
squatted there. It was a pretty place, and there was hay for our
horses in that meadow, and trout in the creek back of the cabin. So I
built the old shack largely on the conveniences and the natural beauty
of the spot. But let me tell you, if this country should get a
railroad and settle up, that quarter section might produce all the
income we'd need, just out of hay and potatoes. How'd you like to be a
farmer's wife, huh?"

"Fine," she smiled. "Look at the view--it