her hands and the telegram fall in her
lap, "he doesn't even mention my hero."

"Oh, yes, he does, my dear," said Bradford, laughing. "I'm one of the
'thousands of brave followers.'"

Then they both laughed and forgot it, for they were too happy to bother
with trifles.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: The subsidy from the Government was $16,000 a mile on the
plains, and $48,000 a mile in the mountains.]

THE BELLE OF ATHABASCA

Athabasca Belle did not burst upon Smith the Silent all at once, like a
rainbow or a sunrise in the desert. He would never say she had been
thrust upon him. She was acquired, he said, in an unguarded moment.

The trouble began when Smith was pathfinding on the upper Athabasca for
the new transcontinental. Among his other assets Smith had two camp
kettles. One was marked with the three initials of the new line, which,
at that time, existed only on writing material, empty pots, and equally
empty parliamentary perorations. The other was not marked at all. It was
the personal property of Jaquis, who cooked for Smith and his outfit.
The Belle was a fine looking Cree--tall, strong, _magnifique_. Jaquis
warmed to her from the start, but the Belle was not for Jaquis, himself
a Siwash three to one. She scarcely looked at him, and answered him
only when he asked if she'd _encore_ the pork and beans. But she looked
at Smith. She would sit by the hour, her elbow on her knee and her chin
in her hand, watching him wistfully, while he drew crazy, crooked lines
or pictured mountains with rivers running between them--all of which,
from the Belle's point of view, was not only a waste of time, but had
absolutely nothing to do with the case.

The Belle and her brown mother came to the camp of the Silent first one
glorious morn in the moon of August, with a basket of wild berries and a
pair of beaded moccasins. Smith bought both--the berries for Jaquis, out
of which he built strange pies, and the moccasins for himself. He called
them his night slippers, but as a matter of fact there was no night on
the Athabasca at that time. The day was divided into three shifts, one
long and two short ones,--daylight, dusk, and dawn. So it was daylight
when the Belle first fixed her large dark eyes upon the strong, handsome
face of Smith the Silent, as he sat on his camp stool, bent above a map
he was making. Belle's mother, being old in years and unafraid, came
close, looked at the picture for a moment, and exclaimed: "H