tarms of the invitin' broad enough to include each and all, whoever
and whatever he may be.

"And now, friends," continued the old man, "I be glad to see ye at my
table, and I hope ye have brought a good appetite with ye, for the
vic'tals be plenty and no one need scrimp the size of his eatin'. Let
us all eat heartily and be merry, for this be Christmas. Ef we've had
bad luck in the past we'll hope for better luck in the futur' and take
heart. Ef we've been heavy-hearted or sorrowful we will chirk up. Ef
any have wronged us we will forgive and forgit. For this be Christmas,
friends, and Christmas be a day for forgivin' and forgittin.' And now,
then," continued the old man, as he flourished his knife and grasped
the huge fork preparatory to plunging it into the venison haunch in
front of him, "with good appetites and a cheerful mind let us all fall
to eatin'."

III.

Thus went the feasting. Hunger had brought its appetite to the
plentiful table, and the well cooked viands provoked its indulgence.
If the past of any of the Trapper's guests had been sorrowful, the
unhappiness of it for the moment was forgotten. Stories crisp as
snow-crust and edged with aptness, happy memories and reminiscences of
frolic and fun, sly hits and keen retorts, jokes and laughter,
rollicked around the table and shook it with mirthful explosions. The
merriment was at its height when a loud summons sounded upon the door.
It was so imperious as well as so unexpected that every noise was
instantly hushed, and every face at the table was turned in surprise
to wait the entrance.

"Come in," cried the Trapper, cheerily; "whoever ye be, ye be welcome
ef ye be a leetle late."

The response of him who so emphatically sought admission to the feast
was as prompt as his summons had been determined. For, without an
instant's delay or the least hesitancy of movement, the great door was
pushed suddenly inward and a man stepped into the room.

A sturdy fellow he was, swarth of skin and full whiskered. His hair
was black and coarse and grown to his shoulders. His eyes were black
as night, largely orbed under heavy brows, not lacking a certain
wicked splendor. His face was strongly featured and stamped in every
line and curve and prominence with the impress of unmistakable power.
In his right hand he carried a rifle, and in his left a bundle, snugly
packed and protected from the storm in wrappings of oiled cloth. The
strong light, into the circle