k vapours, thin aerial wisps of almost
unimaginable colour. Except the horizon! The horizon, just where the
magic portals of the trail revealed it, was an unfathomable radiance
of intense, transparent, orange-crimson flame, so thrilling in its
strangeness that Dave seemed to feel his spirit striving to draw it in
as his lungs were drawing in the vital air. From that fount of living
light rushed innumerable streams of thin colour, making threads and
stains and patches of mystical red among the tops of the lower forest,
and dyeing the snowy surface of the clearing with the tints of
mother-of-pearl and opal. Dave turned his head to glance at the cabin,
the barn, and the woods behind them. All were bathed in that
transfiguring rush of glory. The beauty of it gave him a curious pang,
which turned instantly, by some association too obscure for him to
trace, into an ache of grief at the disappointment that was hanging
over his little one's gaily trusting heart. The fairylike quality of
the scene before him made him think, by a mingling of sympathy and
far-off, dim remembrance, of the fairy glamour and unreal radiance of
beauty that Christmas tree and Christmas toys stood for in the child's
bright anticipations. He reminded himself of the glittering delights
with which, during the past three Christmases, Lidey's kinsfolk in the
Settlement had lovingly surrounded her. Now he, her father, could do
nothing to make her Christmas different from all these other days of
whose shut-in monotony she was wearying. Hope, now, and excited wonder
were giving the little one new life. Dave Patton cringed within at the
thought of the awakening, the disillusionment, the desolation of
sorrow that would come to the baby heart with the dawn of Christmas.
He was overwhelmed with self-reproach, because he had not realized all
this in time to make provision, before the deep snow had blocked the
trail to the Settlement. Now, what _could_ he do?

Heavily Dave strode across the yard to the door of the barn. At the
sound of his feet crunching the trodden and brittle snow, there came
low mooings of eagerness from the expectant cattle in the barn. As he
lifted the massive wooden latch and opened the door, the horse
whinnied to him from the innermost stall, there was a welcoming
shuffle of hoofs, and a comfortable warmth puffed steamily out in his
face. From the horse's stall, from the stanchions of the cattle, big,
soft eyes all turned to him. As he bundled