grew deeper with the passing days. She loved it
all--the silent snow-bound forest, the virile life of the big camp with
its moments of tense excitement, the mighty crash with which tall trees
tore through the branches of lesser trees to measure their length on
the scarred snow, the thrill of hunting wild things, and the long
evenings when the rich tones of the graphophone fell upon her ears amid
rough surroundings, like a voice from the past.

But most of all she loved the long walks in the forest, in the deep
gloom of moonlit nights with the weird, mysterious shadows all about
them as the big man at her side told her of his great love while they
planned and dreamed of the future; and then returned to the little
office where she listened while he read aloud, pausing now and then to
light his black pipe and blow clouds of blue smoke toward the low
ceiling.

He had grown very close to her, and very dear, this big, impetuous boy,
who had suddenly become a masterful man, and in whom she found each day
some new depth of feeling--some entirely unsuspected and unexplored
nook of his character.

Her doubts and fears had long since been thrust aside, and even the
existence of the Indian girl had been forgotten. And so it was that
when Ethel told Bill one evening she wished their wedding to take place
in the camp, amid the scenes of their future hardships and happiness,
he acquiesced gladly, and to the laughing outrage of her dignity picked
her up in his two hands and tossed her high in the air as he would have
tossed a baby.

And now the time of the wedding was very near. The clean-up was
finished, and day by day they awaited the coming of Appleton and
Sheridan, and of Father Lapre, of the Rice Lake Mission.

The men of the crew set about to make the event one long to be
remembered in the Northland. Flowers were unobtainable, but a frame in
the form of a giant horseshoe was constructed and covered over with
pine-cones.

A raid was made upon the oat-bin, and the oats sifted between the
scales of the cones and moistened. The structure was placed near the
stove in the bunk-house, and when the tiny, green shoots began to
appear, woe to him who procrastinated in the closing of the door or
neglected to tend fire when it was his turn!

The walls of the grub-shack were completely hidden behind
pine-branches, and festoons of brilliant red _bakneesh_ encircled the
room and depended from the chains of the big, swinging lamps.