You know I've never had
money. I wonder what it is like to be rich!"

"How I'm goin' tell you dat?"

"Oh, well, they will find it on your claims very soon."

He shook his head. "You better knock wood w'en you say dat. Mebbe I
draw de blank again; nobody can't tell. I've do de sam' t'ing before,
an' dose men w'at been workin' my groun' dey're gettin' purty blue."

"It's impossible. You're sure to strike it, or if you don't, you can
have half of what I make--I'll be too wealthy, anyhow, so you might as
well."

He laughed again, at which she suddenly remembered that he had not
laughed very much of late, or else she had been too deeply absorbed in
her own happiness to mark the lack of his songs and merriment.

"When you do become a Flambeau king," she continued, "what will you do
with yourself? Surely you won't continue that search for your far
country. It could never be so beautiful as this." She pointed to the
river that never changed, and yet was never the same, and to the
forests, slightly tinged with the signs of the coming season. "Just
look at the mountains," she mused, in a hushed voice; "see the haze
that hangs over them--the veil that God uses to cover up his
treasures." She drew a deep breath. "The breeze fairly tastes with
clean things, doesn't it? Do you know, I've often wanted to be an
animal, to have my senses sharpened--one of those wild things with a
funny, sharp, cold nose. I'd like to live in the trees and run along
the branches like a squirrel, and drink in the perfume that comes on
the wind, and eat the tender, growing things. The sun is bright enough
and the world is good enough, but I can't feel enough. I'm incomplete."

"It's very fine," agreed the Canadian. "I don' see w'y anybody would
care for livin' on dem cities w'en dere's so much nice place outside."

"Oh, but the cities must be fine also," said she, "though, of course,
they can't be as lovely as this. Won't I be glad to see them!"

"Are you goin' away?" he inquired, quickly.

"Of course." Then glimpsing his downcast face, she hastened to add,
"That is, when my claims turn out rich enough to afford it."

"Oh," he said, with relief. "Dat's different. I s'pose it mus' be purty
dull on dem beeg town; now'ere to go, not'in' to see 'cept lot of
houses."

"Yes," said Necia, "I've no doubt one would get tired of it soon, and
long for something to do and something really worth while, but I should
like to try it once, and I shall as soon