Sakewawin_--not for long. I love _this_--the
forest, the mountains, the skies." And then, suddenly she caught
herself, and added quickly: "But anywhere--_anywhere_--if you are there,
_Sakewawin_!"

"I too, love the forests, the mountains, and the skies," he whispered.
"We will have them with us always, little comrade."

It was the fourteenth day when they descended the eastern slopes of the
Divide, and he knew that they were not far from the Kwadocha and the
Finley. Their fifteenth night they camped where he and the Butterfly's
lover had built a noonday fire; and this night, though it was warm and
glorious with a full moon, the Girl was possessed of a desire to have a
fire of their own, and she helped to add fuel to it until the flames
leaped high up into the shadows of the spruce, and drove them far back
with its heat. David was content to sit and smoke his pipe while he
watched her flit here and there after still more fuel, now a shadow in
the darkness, and then again in the full fireglow. After a time she grew
tired and nestled down beside him, spreading her hair over his breast
and about his face in the way she knew he loved, and for an hour after
that they talked in whispering voices that trembled with their
happiness. When at last she went to bed, and fell asleep, he walked a
little way out into the clear moonlight and sat down to smoke and listen
to the murmur of the valley, his heart too full for sleep. Suddenly he
was startled by a voice.

"David!"

He sprang up. From the shadow of a dwarf spruce half a dozen paces from
him had stepped the figure of a man. He stood with bared head, the light
of the moon streaming down upon him, and out of David's breast rose a
strange cry, as if it were a spirit he saw, and not a man.

"David!"

"My God--Father Roland!"

They sprang across the little space between them, and their hands
clasped. David could not speak. Before he found his voice, the Missioner
was saying:

"I saw the fire, David, and I stole up quietly to see who it was. We are
camped down there not more than a quarter of a mile. Come! I want you to
see...."

He stopped. He was excited. And to David his face seemed many years
younger there in the moonlight, and he walked with the spring of youth
as he caught his arm and started down the valley. A strange force held
David silent, an indefinable feeling that something tremendous and
unexpected was impending. He heard the other's quick breath, caught the