reeches and coats, busily
measuring and marking; a team of horses showing silvery white against the
purple of the hill; and everywhere the German prisoner lads, mostly quite
young and of short stature. The pony carriage passed a group of them, and
they stared with cheerful, furtive looks at the two women.

Then the group of timber girls below perceived the approaching visitors,
and a figure, detaching itself from the rest, came to meet the carriage.
A stately woman, black-haired, in coat and breeches like the rest, with a
felt hat, and a badge of authority, touches of green besides on the khaki
uniform. Janet recognized her at once as Mrs. Fergusson, their comrade
for a time at college, and much liked both by her and Rachel.

She came laughing, with hands outstretched.

"Well, here we meet again! Jolly to see you! A new scene, isn't it? Life
doesn't stand still nowadays! One of my girls will take the carriage for
you."

A stalwart maiden unharnessed the pony and let him graze.

Mrs. Fergusson took possession of her visitors, and walked on beside
them, describing the different stages of the work, and sections of the
workers.

"You see those tall fellows farthest off? Those work the saws and cut up
the trees as they come down. Then the horses bring them to the rollers,
and the Canadians guide them with those hooks till the crane seizes hold
of them and lifts them on to the trolley. But before the hooks get
them--you see the girls there?--they do all the measuring; they note
everything in their books and they mark every log. All the payments of
the camp, the wages paid, the sums earned by the trolley contractor who
takes them to the station, the whole finance in fact, depends on the
_women_. I've trained scores besides and sent them out to other camps!
But now come, I must introduce you to the commandant of the camp."

"A Canadian?" asked Janet.

"No, an American! He comes from Maine, but he had been lumbering in
Canada, with several mills and, camps under him. So he volunteered a year
ago to bring over a large Forestry battalion--mostly the men he had been
working with in Quebec. Splendid fellows! But he's the king!"

Then she raised her voice,--

"Captain Ellesborough!"

A young man in uniform, with a slouch hat, came forward, leaping over the
logs in his path. He gave a military salute to the two visitors, and a
swift scrutinizing look to each of them. Rachel was aware of a thin,
handsome face bronzed by ex