none of it.

"Bigs should never cook," she declared. "That work belongs to littles,"
then forced him to vacate her domain and turn himself to the manlier
duties of chopping wood and boughs.

First, however, she showed him how to place two green foot-logs upon
which the teapot and the frying-pan would sit without upsetting, and
how long she wished the sticks of cooking-wood. Then she banished him,
as it were, and he built a wickiup of spruce tops, under the shelter of
which he piled thick, fragrant billows of "Yukon feathers."

Once while he was busy at his task he paused to revel in the colors
that lay against hill and valley, and to drink in the splendid
isolation of it all. Below lay the bed of Black Bear Creek, silent and
sombre in the creeping twilight; beyond, away beyond, across the
westward brim of the Yukon basin, the peaks were blue and ivory and
gold in the last rays of the sun; while the open slopes behind and all
about wore a carpet of fragrant short-lived flowers, nodding as if
towards sleep, and over all was the hush of the lonely hills. A gust
blew a whiff of the camp smoke towards him, and he turned back to watch
Necia kneeling beside the fire like some graceful virgin at her altar
rites, while the peculiar acrid out-door odor of burning spruce was
like an incense in his nostrils.

He filled his chest deeply and leaned on his axe, for he found himself
shaking as if under the spell of some great expectancy.

"Your supper is getting cold," she called to him.

He took a seat beside her on a pile of boughs where the smoke was least
troublesome; he had chosen a spot that was sheltered by a
lichen-covered ledge, and this low wall behind, with the wickiup
joining it, formed an enclosure that lent them a certain air of
privacy. They ate ravenously, and drank deep cupfuls of the unflavored
tea. By the time they were finished the night had fallen and the air
was just cool enough to make the fire agreeable. Burrell heaped on more
wood and stretched out beside her.

"This day has been so wonderful," said the girl, "that I shall never go
to sleep. I can't bear to end it."

"But you must be weary, little maid," he said, gently; "I am."

"Wait, let me see." She stretched her limbs and moved slightly to try
her muscles. "Yes, I am a very tired, but not the kind of tired that
makes you want to go to bed. I want to talk, talk, talk, and not about
ourselves either, but about sensibles. Tell me about your people--