God's Country—And the Woman

lken tress where for an instant his lips had rested seemed to him now like some precious communion cup in whose sacredness he had pledged himself. Yet had he believed

e looked at him through her tears her presence had been like that of some wonderful and unreal creature who held the control to his every act in the cup of her hands. He thought no longer of himself now. He knew that to him she had relinquished the mysterious fight under which she had been struggling. In her eyes he read her surrender. From this hour the fight was his. She

chorus of one of the wild half-breed songs, and Philip listened to the words of the chant which is

lack bear, he

o court

t to ze

t to ze

e shores of z

lip threw back his head, and in a voice almost as wi

fleets sing o

shen pad

carouse at R

llen wint

done where the

ple no mo

ese race 'cross t

te wind's Ar

triumph and defiance, brought the quick flush of living back into Josephine's face. She guessed why Jean had started his cha

'sieur, but our voices are like

whispered Josephine under her br

flushed to the

asked

ing like women

e up Jean and his canoe

At the end-in the fourth month-it was more like the wailing of madmen. MacTavish died then: a young half Scot, of the Royal Mounted. After

terrup

eese race 'cross

te wind's Ar

splendid!" he

ose foxes, and never once could we catch a glimpse of them during the long night. They helped to drive MacTavish mad. He died begging us to keep them away from him. One day I was wakened by Radisson crying like a baby,

n you speak of, Ra

ly. "But that is unpleasant to speak of. Look ahead. I

ake her eyes

ed to his cheeks. "Some day I want to learn those words that helped to keep you alive up there. I want to know all

em Jean Croisset rested on his p

e wide, and I

n a lone

and mould like

t of my tra

dreams on Nor

er again

he marge of t

ef for c

he girl, looking back

tten, as sometimes men and women

s," she added. "And with such dr

e catch in her breath, and then she turned and looked a

is waiting for us, and Adare House is a hundred miles to the south and east." She

was?" h

lenge in his eyes she added quickly: "But only t

au

e, I mean

e minutes later they passed under a thick mass of overhanging spruce boughs into a narrow stream so still and black in the deep shadows of the forest that it looked like oil. There was something a little awesome in the suddenness and completeness with which they were swallowed up

reak into the forest," said Jean

head of them there came

this for many miles, and it is full of life t

and sometimes they bent their heads to escape the low-hanging boughs. Josephine's face shone whi

e here, because they have a superstitious dread of this eternal gloom and quiet. They call it the Spirit Stream. Even Jean is a li

ean out of the gl

, so many years ago that it is time for me to forget," she la

e as his canoe shot slowly ahead where the stream narrowed; and then

blood rushing through Philip's veins more swiftly than Jean's last words. For a moment he

your bi

ate my bir

napped and brush crashed underfoot as caribou or moose caught the man-scent; they heard once the panting, sniffing inquiry of a bear close at hand, and Philip reached forward for his rifle. For an instant Josephine's hand fluttered to his own, and held it back, and the dark glow of her eyes said: "Don't kill." Here there were no big-eyed moose-birds, none of the mellow throat sounds of the brush spar

reath as the sunlight f

Silent Things. It is a great swamp, and they say that the moss grows in

ead of them, and she turned to nod her head at the spruce and cedar shores with their colourings

is, clear to the doors of Adare House. It is a wonderful lake country, and one may easily l

n in Venice," he replied. "To-day is your birthday-y

r apparent innocence he was dismayed at the effect his words had upon her. It seemed to him that her eyes flinched when he spoke, as if he had struck at her. There passed over her face the look which he had come to dread: a swift, t

I could ever hear of such a place as Venice away up here among the Indians. Why, do you know"-she leaned forward, as if to whisper a secret, her blue eyes shilling with a sudden la

ardon," he stam

the laughter of her eyes and lips that he laughed back at her, in

Fort Churchill, over on Hudson's Bay, for three years; and after that, until I was seventeen, I had a little white-haired English governess at Adare House. If she had lived-" Her hands clenched the sides of the canoe

r elbows resting in her lap, her chin tilted in the cup of her hands, looking steadily ahead, and for a long time no sound but the steady dip, dip, dip of the two paddles broke the stillness of their progress. Scarcely once did Philip take his eyes from her. Every turn, every passing of shadow and light, each breath of wind that set stirring the shimmering tresses of her hair, made her more beautiful to him. From red gold to

is Indian-like silence. As

ness in an hour. There is a place to camp and t

ter. Now she seemed to have sunk again under its smothering grip. It was as if the chill and dismal gloom of approaching night had robbed her cheeks of colour, and had given a tired droop to her shoulders as she sat silently, and waited for them to make her tent comfortable. When it was up, and the blankets spread, she went in and left them alone, and the last glimpse that he had of her

cried impatiently, "you're a

d his hand from his shoulder in astonishment. "No

to the tent. She is disheartened, hopeless because of something that I can't guess at, cold and s

u take this knife at my side and cut me into pieces so small that the birds could carry them away. I k

it ca

nothing like this terrible thing that has come to her has happened before since the world

His hand slipped from Jean's arm to his hand, and their fingers

Jean," he s

sieur. All our forest pe

ou say there

on

n-if we

htened about his l

sh these ash berries under my foot! I tell you again, nothing like this has ever

ip looked int

something of th

and prepared myself for the holy calling of Missioner. That was man

ave promised not to pry after her secret, to fight for her only as she tells me to fight. But if I

ible, M

n withdrew

ckly. "I'm not ferreting for her secret now. Only I

s to wait, and watch, and guard. And all that you can do, M'sieur, is to play the part she has asked of you. In doing that, and doing it well, you will keep the las

ness was as complete as she had described. Without arguing with himself he had taken it for granted that she had been labouring under a tremendous strain, and that no matter what her trouble was it had come to look immeasurably darker to her than it really was. But Jean's attitude, his low and unexcited voice, and the almost omniscient decisiveness of his words had convinced him that Josephine had not painted it as blackly as she might. She, at le

life and freedom and a sun above it is impossible for hope to become a thing of char

t drifted over the cedar and spruce. And now to these tremendous forces had come the added strength of the most wonderful thing in the world: love of a woman. In

any of a woman for the first time in two years. Long after the tents were up and the birch-fire was crackling cheerfully i

ever came to her; farther back, where he was cutting down another birch, she heard him shout out the words of a song between blows; and once, sotto voce, and close to her tent, she quite distinctly heard him say "Damn!" She knew t

t, and piled dry logs on it until the flame of it lighted up the gloom about them for a hundred feet. And then, with a p

ude. He dropped his pan and stick, and went to her. It seemed as if this last hour in the darkness of camp had brought her nearer to him, and he gently took h

this any more,

"Please let me stand a little in

where Jean had spread out their supper on the ground. When she had seated herself on the pile of blankets they had

d. "I'm not much of a-a-sport-to let you men get supper by yo

, dark face. "And do you remember that other birthday, years and years ago, when y

I reme

r-r-rand paradise, she cut off my moustaches. They were splendid, those moust

t a second cup of tea on their account. He accompanied her back to the tent after she had bade Jean good-night, and as they stood for a moment before

e can ever know how good you have been to me

s arms. When she looked up he was holding something toward her in the palm of his ha

nd I guess she was right. It was her first Bible, and mine. It's grown old and ragged with me, and the water and snow have faded it. I've come to so

tle Bible to her breast. She did not speak, but for a moment Philip saw in her eyes the look for which he would have sacr

head lower a

wish you all the hope and happiness that God a

g straight into his eyes, she lifted her lips to him, and as one who meets a soul of a thing too sanctified to touch with h