-a strong-limbed, fair-haired fellow--lifted his cap
when he saw Elizabeth at the window. She nodded and smiled at him. He
was Edward Tyson, one of the two engine-drivers who had taken her and
Philip through the Kicking Horse Pass. His friend also could be seen
standing among the cattle gathered in the farmyard. They had become
Anderson's foremen and partners on his farm of twelve hundred acres, of
which only some three hundred acres had been as yet brought under
plough. The rest was still virgin prairie, pasturing a large mixed herd
of cattle and horses. The two North-Countrymen had been managing it all
in Anderson's Parliamentary absences, and were quite as determined as he
to make it a centre of science and progress for a still remote and
sparely peopled district. One of the kinsmen was married, and lived in a
small frame house, a stone's throw from the main buildings of the farm.
The other was the head of the "bothy" or boarding-house for hired men,
a long low building, with cheerful white-curtained windows, which could
be seen just beyond the cow-house.

As she looked over the broad whiteness of the farmlands, above which the
sunset clouds were now tossing in climbing lines of crimson and gold,
rising steeply to a zenith of splendour, and opening here and there,
amid their tumult, to show a further heaven of untroubled
blue--Elizabeth thought with lamentation that their days on the farm
were almost done. The following week could see them at Ottawa for the
opening of the session. Anderson was full of Parliamentary projects;
important work for the Province had been entrusted to him; and in the
general labour policy of the Dominion he would find himself driven to
take a prominent part. But all the while his heart and Elizabeth's were
in the land and its problems; for them the true, the entrancing Canada
was in the wilds. And for Anderson, who through so many years, as an
explorer and engineer, had met Nature face to face, his will against
hers, in a direct and simple conflict, the tedious and tortuous methods
of modern politics were not easy to learn. He must indeed learn them--he
was learning them; and the future had probably great things in store for
him, as a politician. But he came back to the Saskatchewan farm with
joy, and he would leave it reluctantly.

"If only I wasn't so rich!" thought Elizabeth, with compunction. For she
often looked with envy on her neighbours who had gone through the real
hardships of th