staring at this
interpretation, which was beyond his lively understanding. "Her and her
crucifix. Turruble lonesome company! Well, them are things yu' don't
know about. I kind o' laughed myself the first time I seen her at it.
Hank, he says to me soft, 'Come here, Lin,' and I peeped in where she
was a-prayin'. She seen us two, but she didn't quit. So I quit, and Hank
came with me, sayin' tough words about it. Yes, them are things yu'
sure don't know about. What's the matter with you camping with us boys
tonight?"

We had been going to visit them the next day. We made it to-day,
instead. And Mr. McLean helped us with our packs, and we carried our
welcome in the shape of elk meat. So we turned our faces down the
grass-topped mountains towards Galena Creek. Once, far through an
open gap away below us, we sighted the cabin with the help of our
field-glasses.

"Pity we can't make out Hank sleepin' in that brush," said McLean.

"He has probably gone into the cabin by now," said I.

"Not him! He prefers the brush all day when he's that drunk, you bet!"

"Afraid of her?"

"Well--oneasy in her presence. Not that she's liable to be in there
now. She don't stay inside nowadays so much. She's been comin' round
the ditch, silent-like but friendly. And she'll watch us workin' for a
spell, and then she's apt to move off alone into the woods, singin' them
Dutch songs of hern that ain't got no toon. I've met her walkin' that
way, tall and earnest, lots of times. But she don't want your company,
though she'll patch your overalls and give yu' lunch always. Nor she
won't take pay."

Thus we proceeded down from the open summits into the close pines;
and while we made our way among the cross-timber and over the little
streams, McLean told us of various days and nights at the camp, and how
Hank had come to venting his cowardice upon his wife's faith.

"Why, he informed her one day when he was goin' take his dust to town,
that if he come back and found that thing in the house, he'd do it up
for her. 'So yu' better pack off your wooden dummy somewheres,' says he.
And she just looked at him kind o' stone-like and solemn. For she don't
care for his words no more.

"And while he was away she'd have us all in to supper up at the shack,
and look at us eatin' while she'd walk around puttin' grub on your
plate. Day time she'd come around the ditch, watchin' for a while, and
move off slow, singin' her Dutch songs. And when Hank comes back f