acks. Going up to the shack, I knocked upon the door, and as
a voice bade me enter I slipped off my snowshoes, pulled the latch
string, and walked in. Entering from the dazzling sunlight made the
room at first seem in darkness. Presently, however, I regained my
sight, and then beheld the interior of a comfortable little home--the
extreme of neatness and order; and then I saw a human form lying
beneath the blankets of a bunk in a far corner. Later I noticed that
two black eyes beneath a shock of black hair were smiling a welcome.

"Good morning," I greeted. "May I use your stove to cook breakfast?"

"No, sir," replied the figure, then it sat up in bed, and I saw that it
was a white man. "I'll do the cooking myself, for you're to be my
guest."

"Thanks," I returned, "I'm travelling with an Indian and I don't wish
to trouble you; but if I may use your stove I'll be much obliged."

"If I have what you haven't got," my host smiled, "will you dine with
me?"

"All right," I agreed.

"Potatoes," he exclaimed.

"Good," I laughed.

"Then sit down, please, and rest while I do the cooking."

Oo-koo-hoo now came in and at the host's bidding, filled his pipe from
a tobacco pouch upon the table.

The accent of the stranger suggested that he was an English gentleman,
and it seemed strange, indeed, to discover so refined and educated a
man living apparently alone and without any special occupation in the
very heart of the Great Northern Forest. Curiosity seized me. Then I
wondered--was this the man? . . . could he be "Son-in-law"?

But I refrained from questioning him. So I talked about the woods and
the weather, while Oo-koo-hoo brought in a haunch of venison from his
sled and presented it to the stranger. But with my host's every action
and word the mystery grew.

The stove, which was fireless, stood beside the bed, and reaching for
the griddle-lifter, my host removed the lids; then picking up a stick
of pine kindling from behind the stove, he whittled some shavings and
placed them in the fire-box; and on top of this he laid kindling and
birch firewood. Then he replaced the lids, struck a match, and while
the fire began to roar, filled the kettle from a keg of water that
stood behind the stove, and mind you, he did it without getting out of
bed. Next, he leant over the side of the bunk, opened a little trap
door in the floor, reached down into his little box-like cellar, and
hauled up a bag containing potato