his little breast.

At first they cut the small poles and built a half-faced camp, and made
it strong enough to stand the storms of winter in case a cabin could not
be finished before spring. This half-faced camp was made of small logs
built on three sides, with the fourth open to the south. In front of
this opening the log fire was built and its flame never died day or
night.

To the soul of the Boy this half-faced camp with its blazing logs in the
shadow of giant trees was the most wonderful dwelling he had ever seen.
The stars that twinkled in the sky beyond the lacing boughs were set in
his ceiling. No king in his palace could ask for more.

But into the young mother's heart slowly crept the first shadows of a
nameless dread. Fifteen miles from a human habitation in the depths of
an unmarked wilderness with only a hunter's camp for her home, and she
had dreamed of schools! To her children her face always gave good cheer.
But at night she lay awake for long, pitiful hours watching the stars
and fighting the battle alone with despair.

Yet there was never a thought of surrender. God lived and her faith was
in Him. The same stars were shining above that sparkled in old Virginia
and Kentucky. Something within sang for joy at the sight of her
Boy--strong of limb and dauntless of soul. He was God's answer to her
cry, and always she went the even tenor of her way singing softly that
he might hear.

His father set him to the task of clearing the first acre of ground for
the crop next spring. It seemed a joke to send a child with an axe into
that huge forest and tell him to clear the way for civilization. And yet
he went with firm, eager steps.

He chose the biggest tree in sight for his first task--a giant oak three
feet in diameter, its straight trunk rising a hundred feet without a
limb or knot to mar its perfect beauty.

The Boy leaped on the fallen monarch of the woods with a new sense of
power. Far above gleamed a tiny space in the sky. His hand had made it.
He was a force to be reckoned with now. He was doing things that counted
in a man's world.

Day after day his axe rang in the woods until a big white patch of sky
showed with gleaming piles of clouds. And shimmering sunbeams were
warming the earth for the seed of the coming spring. His tall thin body
ached with mortal weariness, but the spirit within was too proud to
whine or complain. He had taken a man's place. His mother needed him and
he'd play the pa