he reeds under them were swarming with young fish.
The gulls looked down and squawked in a hungry chorus. In a moment
they lighted, balancing their great wings like reefing sails.

I laughed as I looked at the woman. It was a small triumph, but
intoxication breeds easy laughter. I had been drinking deep that
morning of a sparkling happiness more disturbing than any wine.

We sent the canoes shoreward into the curve where the reeds lay. The
stiff green withes rattled against our canoes like hail, and gave
warning of our approach for a half mile distant. I nodded my inner
approval.

"The gulls are wise," I said to the woman. "We could not plan a better
water defense to our camp."

The grass came down to the water, and we pulled the canoes over short
turf and into beds of white blossoms. A cloud of butterflies rose to
greet us; they too were satin-white, the color that a bride should
wear, and they fluttered over us without fear. The smell of the
grasses rose like incense. With all the light and perfume there was a
sense of quiet, of deep content and peace. Even the woods that fringed
the meadow seemed kindly. They did not have the sombre awe of the
heavy timber, but looked sun-drenched and gay.

"We shall stay here," I said. "Unload the canoes."

Five men with good sinews, some understanding, and well-sharpened axe
blades, can make a great change in the forest in one day. When the
sunset found us I had a fortified house built for my wife. It was
framed of fragrant pine, and occupied the extremity of a spit of land
that lay next the meadow. Its door opened on the water, and I made the
opening wide so that the stars might look in at night. All about the
sides and rear of the house were laid boughs, one upon another, and on
the top of this barricade was stretched a long cord threaded with
hawk's bells. The lodges for myself and the men we placed in the rear,
and behind them we laid still another wall of brush to separate us from
the forest. I was satisfied with the defenses. With the reeds in
front and the brush behind, any intruder would sound his own alarm.

The woman took Singing Arrow and went to her house early that night,
but I sat late over my charts and journal. I had much to study and
more to plan.

Yet I was abroad the next morning while the stars were still reflected
in the bay. Labarthe was with me, and we took Singing Arrow's light
canoe and packed it with supplies and merchandise.