was bathed
in a multitudinous riot of color that made a scene of loveliness beyond
power of speech to describe.

"Oh, Allan, Allan," cried his sister, "I never thought to see anything
as lovely as the Cuagh Oir, but this is up to it I do believe."

"It must indeed be lovely, then," said her brother with a smile, "if
you can say that. And I am glad you like it. I was afraid that you might
not."

"Here we are, just at the top," cried Mandy. "In a minute beyond the
shoulder there we shall see the Big Horn Valley and the place where our
home used to be. There, wait Allan."

The ponies came to a stand. Exclamations of amazement burst from Cameron
and his wife.

"Why, Allan? What? Is this the trail?"

"It is the trail all right," said her husband in a low voice, "but what
in thunder does this mean?"

"It is a house, Allan, a new house."

"It looks like it--but--"

"And there are people all about!"

For some breathless moments they gazed upon the scene. A wide valley,
flanked by hills and threaded by a gleaming river, lay before them and
in a bend of the river against the gold and yellow of a poplar bluff
stood a log house of comfortable size gleaming in all its newness fresh
from the ax and saw.

"What does it all mean, Allan?" inquired his wife.

"Blest if I know!"

"Look at the people. I know now, Allan. It's a 'raising bee.' A raising
bee!" she cried with growing enthusiasm. "You remember them in Ontario.
It's a bee, sure enough. Oh, hurry, let's go!"

The bronchos seemed to catch her excitement, their weariness
disappeared, and, pulling hard on the bit, they tore down the winding
trail as if at the beginning rather than at the end of their hundred and
fifty mile drive.

"What a size!" cried Mandy.

"And a cook house, too!"

"And a verandah!"

"And a shingled roof!"

"And all the people! Where in the world can they have come from?"

"There's the Inspector, anyway," said Cameron. "He is at the bottom of
this, I'll bet you."

"And Mr. Cochrane! And that young Englishman, Mr. Newsome!"

"And old Thatcher!"

"And Mrs. Cochrane, and Mr. Dent, and, oh, there's my friend Smith! You
remember he helped me put out the fire."

Soon they were at the gate of the corral where a group of men and women
stood awaiting them. Inspector Dickson was first:

"Hello, Cameron! Got back, eh? Welcome home, Mrs. Cameron," he said as
he helped her to alight.

Smith stood at the bronchos' heads.

"Now, Inspector