made from a rod of iron, its bed
and its hand-made table.

Here had come Anon Bordoux and Mora Le-Clede, drawn by the sight of the
factor at the Baptistes' door, their tongues flying in eager question.

"--of such gorgeousness," Marie was saying, "such softness of white
doeskin, such wealth of the beading--"

"Marie," said Maren sharply, "is there naught to do save gossip?"

Anon and Mora fell into confused silence, the habit of the trail where
this girl's word had been the law falling upon them, but Marie, saucy
and not to be daunted, was not so easily hushed.

"Is it not true," she cried, "that the factor brought it but now to the
door in plain sight of all?"

Whereon Maren passed, out the open door and the tongues began again,
more carefully.

In the distance there flashed a crimson skirt at whose beaded edge there
hung a great grey dog, his heavy head waist-high to the little maid who
wore it.

CHAPTER VIII FIRST DAWN

Throughout the week that followed Fort de Seviere was gay with the
bustle of trading. Packs of furs went up the main way and loads of
merchandise went down, carried on the backs of the braves, guns and
blankets and many a foot of Spencer's Twist at one beaver a foot, powder
and balls in buckskin bags, and all the things of heart's desire that
had brought the Assiniboines from the forks of the Saskatchewan.

Kept close to the factory by the bartering, McElroy and Ridgar and the
two clerks hardly saw the blue spring sky, nor caught a breath of the
scented air of the spring. Within the forest the Saskatoon was blooming
and the blueberry bushes were tossing soft heads of foam, while many a
tree of the big woods gave forth a breath of spice. It came in at the
door and the young factor raised his head many times a day to drink
its sweetness in a sort of wistfulness. At dusk he stood on the sill,
released from the trade, and looked over his settlement as was his
habit, and ever his eyes strayed to that new cabin at the far end, of
the northern row.

What was she thinking, that dark-browed girl with the deep eyes that
changed as the waters of a lake with each breath of wind, of him and the
blundering gift he had carried to her door? What had she done with it,
and would he ever see it clinging to those splendid shoulders, falling
over the rounded breast?

A feeling of warmth grew at his heart each day with thought of her, and
when he saw her swinging down toward the well he felt the blood le