ressed differently to-day--all in buckskin.

The newly risen sun was behind her, shooting misty beams across a lake
of mother-of-pearl. The artist, latent in every man, arrested Sam,
forcing him to wonder and admire.

Bela looked up calmly. "I waitin' till the men get up," she remarked.

"I'll call them," he offered, making a move to turn.

"Let them sleep," commanded Bela. "It is early."

Sam became uncomfortably conscious of his unkempt condition. "You
caught me unawares," he said. "I haven't washed up yet."

She glanced at him sidewise. Had he known it, he did not appear
altogether at a disadvantage with his fair hair tousled and his shirt
open at the throat.

"I don't care," she said, with a child's air of unconcern.

Presently she caught sight of the razor. "You got hair grow on your
chin, too? That is fonny thing. Ot'er day I watch the curly-head one
scrape his face. He not see me. What for you want scrape your face?"

Sam blushed. "Oh, it looks like a hobo if you don't," he stammered.

She repeated the word with a comical face. "What is hobo?"

"Oh, a tramp, a loafer, a bum."

"I on'erstan'," she said. "We got hoboes, too. My mot'er's 'osban' is
a hobo."

She looked at his chin again. "Bishop Lajeunesse not scrape his chin,"
she stated. "Got long hair, so. He is fine man."

Sam, not knowing exactly what to say, remained silent. He found it
difficult to accommodate himself to a conversational Bela. She was
much changed in the morning light from the inscrutable figure of the
fire-side. Ten times more human and charming, it is true, but on that
account the more disconcerting to a young man, without experience of
the sex. Moreover, her beauty took his breath away. Bela watched his
blushes with interest.

"What mak' your face hot?" she asked. "There is no fire."

He could not but believe she was making fun of him. "Ah! cut it out!"
he growled.

"White men fonny," said Bela, rolling her strips of cotton.

"Funny!" repeated Sam. "How about you? Hanged if you're not the
strangest thing I ever came across."

Obviously this did not displease her. She merely shrugged.

He forgot some of his self-consciousness in his curiosity. "Where do
you come from?" he asked, drawing nearer. "Where do you go to?"--"You
wonderful creature!" his eyes added.

"No magic," she said calmly. "I just plain girl."

"Why wouldn't you tell them how you got out night before last?"

"Maybe I want get out again."

"Will y