on the floor beside him. Husky still had the sole use
of the bed.

The cabin roof rang with a grotesque chorus of snores. Sam's gorge
rose. The air was tainted. He looked at the recumbent figures with a
curling lip. Was it hate that had awakened him? He had put up in
silence with so much at their hands!

An oblique ray of moonlight struck through the window over his head,
luring him like a song. He softly got up, and, gathering up his bed,
went outside.

The pines were like a regiment of gigantic soldiers standing at ease
under the sky and whispering together while they awaited the word of
command. Their fragrance was like a benediction on the air. The moon,
low down in the south-east, peeped between the trunks.

At the mouth of the creek where the little rapids poured into a quiet
pool there was a bank of sand. This was the general washing-place of
the camp.

Sam, thinking of the sand as a promising bed, made his way in that
direction by the path they had worn. As he passed around the house a
shadow moved from behind a great pine and followed him, flitting
noiselessly from tree to tree.

Sam sat down in the sand, nursing his knees. The mouth of the creek
was the only spot along shore as yet wholly free of ice. He looked out
over the lake through the opening. Under the light of the low moon the
water was the colour of freshly cast iron.

Somewhere out upon it Bela was paddling, he thought, if she had not
already reached home. His breast relaxed its guard against her a
little. He believed she was a pretty fine sort, after all. Had he done
the right thing to send her away? She was beautiful enough to make a
man's arm ache for her now she had gone.

But on the whole he was glad she was gone. He did not realize it, but
his hour had not quite struck. It was a wholesome instinct that made
him fight against the overmastering emotions that attacked his heart.

He told himself he couldn't afford to look in that direction. He had
work to do first. He had to get a toehold in this land. Some day
maybe----

Drowsiness overcame him again. With a sigh he stretched out on the
sand and rolled himself in his blankets. His breathing became deep and
slow. By and by the coquettish moon peeped between the tree-trunks
across the creek and touched his face and his fair hair with a silvery
wand. Whereupon it was no longer a mere man; it was young Hermes
sleeping beside the water. The shadow stole from among the trees above
the sa