at--much meat--"

She stopped at the strange, hard look in Roscoe's eyes. He was looking
overhead. If he had looked down, into the glory and love of her eyes, he
would have swept her close in his arms, and the last fight would have been
over then and there. Oachi went out, wondering at the coldness with which
he had received the word of their deliverance, and little guessing that in
that moment he had fought the greatest battle of his life. Each day after
this called him back to the fight. His two broken ribs healed slowly. The
storm passed. The sun followed it, and the March winds began bringing up
warmth from the south. Days grew into weeks, and the snow was growing soft
underfoot before he dared venture forth short distances from the camp
alone. He tried often to make Oachi understand, but he always stopped short
of what he meant to say; his hand would steal to her beautiful hair, and in
Oachi's throat would sound the inimitable little note of happiness. Each
day he was more and more handicapped. For in the joy of her great love
Oachi became more beautiful and her voice still sweeter. By the time the
snows began running down from the mountains and the poplar buds began to
swell she was telling him the most sacred of all sacred things, and one day
she told him of the wonderful world far to the west, painted by the glow of
the setting sun, wherein lay the Valley of Silent Men.

"And that is Heaven--your Heaven," breathed Roscoe. He was almost well now,
but he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, and Oachi knelt in the old
place upon the deer skin at his feet. As he spoke he stroked her hair.

"Tell me," he said, "what sort of a place it is, Oachi."

"It is beautiful," spoke Oachi softly.

"Long, long ago the Great God came down among us and lived for a time; and
He came at a time like that which has just passed, and He saw suffering,
and hunger, and death. And when He saw what life was He made for us another
world, and told us that it should be called the Valley of Silent Men; and
that when we died we would go to this place, and that at last--when all of
our race were gone--He would cause the earth to roll three times, and in
the Valley of Silent Men all would awaken into life which would never know
death, or sorrow, or pain again. And He says that those who love will
awaken there--hand in hand."

"It is beautiful," said Roscoe. He felt himself trembling. Oachi's breath
was against his hand. It was his last fight.