"

Meanwhile, Reginald Redding--still breathing defiance to the clan of
McLeod, with his heart steeled against all softer influences, and with
all his bristles erect--arrived at Jenkins Creek.

Seeing no one about the door of the hut, he passed it with an indignant
frown, and proceeded direct to the cascade, where, from a considerable
distance, he had observed the three settlers as they busily plied their
axes.

A thaw had set in. The little cascade was beginning to roar ominously,
almost savagely, behind the curtain of ice which had concealed almost
the whole of it during winter. The ice on the edge of the Saint
Lawrence had already given way, and was being swept out to sea in
variously-sized fields and masses. Everything gave indication that the
reign of winter had come to an end, that the short-lived spring had laid
its warm hand on the whole region, and that summer was not far distant.
Summer acts its part with promptitude in those regions.

Men out there are usually vigorous in taking advantage of the change;
the McLeods were making the most of their time when the fur-trader
approached.

"It should be getting near supper-time," said the elder McLeod, looking
at the sun.

"Not far from it," said Kenneth, flinging down his axe and wiping the
perspiration from his brow, as he glanced in the same direction, "what a
comfort it is to have Flo to look after meals; it makes one feel--hallo!
who come here?--see, two men, rounding the cliff just above the house."

The elder McLeod made no reply, but waited until the strangers were
sufficiently near to be addressed; then, touching his cap, he said,
"Good evening," heartily.

To this Reginald Redding replied, "Good evening," stiffly, while his man
bestowed a gaze of unmistakable scorn all round.

A little surprised, but not much alarmed, by their manner, McLeod said
that it was an unusual pleasure to meet with strangers in such an
out-of-the-way place; that he and his sons, having finished their day's
work, were about to return to their hut for supper, and that he would be
more than delighted if they would take "pot-luck" with them.

Redding, who was by nature of a kindly sociable disposition, felt rather
put out by this reception, especially when the invitation was pressed on
him with much cordiality by Kenneth, as well as by Ian. Even the scorn
on Le Rue's lip began to melt away like the snow! But the fur-trader
felt that the interests of his employers were