nd then cooked his breakfast by the side of one of the little
brooks. It was the first food that had tasted just right to him in many
weeks, and afterwards he lay by the camp fire awhile, and luxuriated. He
had the most wonderful feeling of peace and ease; all the world was his
to go where he chose and to do what he chose, and he began to think of
an autumn camp, a tiny lodge in the deepest recess of the wilderness,
where he could store spare ammunition, furs and skins and find a
frequent refuge, when the time for storms and cold came. He would build
at his ease--there was plenty of time and he would fill in the intervals
with hunting and exploration.

He ranged that day toward the north and the west, moving with
deliberation, and not until the third or the fourth day did he come to
the place that he had in mind. In the triangle between the junction of
two streams was a marshy area, thickly grown with bushes and slim trees,
that thrust their roots deep down through the mire into more solid soil.
The marsh was perhaps two acres in extent; right in the heart of it was
a piece of firm earth about forty feet square and here Henry meant to
build his lodge. He alone knew the path across the marsh over fallen
logs lying near enough to each other to be reached by an agile man, and
on the tiny island all his possessions would be safe.

He worked a week at his hut, and it was done, a little lean-to of bark
and saplings, partly lined with skins, but proof against rain or snow.
On the floor he spread the skins and furs of animals that he killed, and
on the walls he hung trophies of the hunt.

Two weeks after his house was finished he used it at its full value.
Summer was gone and autumn was coming, a great rain poured and the wind
blew cold. Dead leaves fell in showers from the trees, and the boughs
swaying before the gale creaked dismally against each other. But it all
gave to Henry a supreme sense of physical comfort. He lay in his snug
hut, and, pulling a little to one side the heavy buffalo robe that hung
over the doorway, watched the storm rage through the wilderness. He had
no sense of loneliness, his mind was in perfect tune with everything
about him, and delighted in the triumphant manifestation of nature.

He stayed there all day, content to lie still and meditate vaguely of
anything that came of its own accord into his mind. About the twilight
hour he cooked some venison, ate it and then slept a dreamless sleep
through