The mile separating the shack from the Papineau homestead had been a long and fatiguing one on the first occasion of Madge's going to see the wounded man. Now the distance was trivial; a few st.u.r.dy steps, a few fillings of one's lungs with the scent of conifers; and there was the little chimney smoking and the cow with her little calf, and the dogs, and the few hens that had survived the attacks of weasels. Best of all there were her friends, children and babies and the quiet Frenchman and the kind-hearted, red-cheeked, cheery mother whose influence had been paramount in creating a little paradise in the wilds.

She helped Hugo off the buckboard, jealously, deeming herself the only one who could properly handle an invalid, and enthroned him in the best chair, near the open fire.

"You--you are h'all so velcome as I can't say," she declared.

"Miss Nelson is going away with Stefan in a few minutes," said Hugo, cheerfully.

At this Mrs. Papineau's face fell. She looked positively unhappy.

"Some'ow," she said, sniffing, "I always 'ope she stay 'ere h'all de time now. I--I never tink she go avay for good. De--de dogs and de calf and--an--de baby and chil'ren dey all love 'er. I h'awful sorry."

"But--but I'm coming back, Mrs. Papineau," cried Madge. "I--I can't live away from--from Roaring River now!"

"Dey two iss ter be marrit!" roared Stefan. "Hey! What you tank? I tank so all de time, you bet!"

At this they all crowded around Madge, and such hand-shakings, and such kisses from the good woman and the children, and such joy depicted on all the faces! She thought that never a bride had received such heartfelt congratulations and good wishes.

But in a couple of hours the old horse was quite rested and had finished the small bag of oats Stefan had brought and eaten plenty of the sweet-scented hay furnished by Papineau, and it was time to go.

Strangely enough, at the last moment, the usually crowded house was deserted excepting by two, who found themselves in one another's arms.

"G.o.d bless you, Madge," said the man. "I will come soon."

"I shall be waiting," answered the girl, simply.

And so she rode away again, in the old buckboard that rolled and pitched and heaved and bucked so that very often she got off and walked at the side of Stefan.

Late that night she found herself in the doctor's home, after a wonderful welcome from his wife and himself. The kiddies had been put to bed.

"I--I feel that--that I am deserting you, that you trusted me to help you with a splendid work," she said, with head bent down.

"That is not so," the man answered gravely. "Remember what I told you when I was trying to enlist you. I say that more than for any other purposes, we wanted women, good women, to come and become the mothers of the strong, fine breed that can alone master our wilderness. Hugo is one of those fellows of brawn and brain who are working towards the common happiness in establishing his own. He needs a helper he can love and trust and cherish, one who will in herself be the biggest reward he can ever gain, and make him feel that the bigger part of the purpose of his life has been secured with your promise to marry him.

To me the sick and the halt are paramount--but they will have to wait a little. In some way or other they will be looked after, I promise you, for no man in a responsible position can be anything but a problem-solver, in these places, and I'll find someone, never fear."

"Yours will be the more important occupation now, my dear," said the doctor's wife; "you'll be in the front ranks of the fighters."

So the doctor went away and the two women made the sewing-machine hum, and cut and basted and threaded needles. Together they managed to put together all that was indispensable and to discard the frivolous, as became the wives of pioneers.

Two or three weeks went by very fast and one day Sophy McGurn, from behind the shop-window, saw Hugo Ennis standing on the platform of the little station at Carcajou. With him was big Stefan, clad in his best, and the entire Papineau family. Most of the children were about to take the very first railway journey of their lives and the excitement was intense and prolonged. Finally the train came puffing along and went away again, panting on the upgrade, while Miss Sophy bit her nails hard.

There is no doubt that Stefan had kept still, since he had been requested to. No one else in Carcajou knew anything as to the inwardness of the girl's coming, of Sophy's share in it, or of the discovery by the doctor of the latter's duplicity. And yet there was an element in Carcajou that frowned upon the young lady. Her accusation had been reported far and wide. To the settlers of the place her suspicions had seemed uncalled-for and bespeaking a mean and vicious disposition. Hugo, after all, had been everybody's friend. He was now about to marry this young woman from far-away New York. This utterly disproved Sophy's statements, wherefore she became more unpopular than ever. A couple of hundred men had come over to work at the sawmill, that was purring and grinding and shrieking again, all day and night. In the course of events they were learning all about the matter, and some of the more ribald asked her jocular questions.

It was annoying, to say the least, to have a big logger come in and ask what were the news of the day, and if there was any more murdering going on. She projected to leave Carcajou as soon as she could, and made her parents wish she would, as soon as possible.

The party reached their station and walked over to the church, that stood in what looked like a pasture, with great stumps of trees still dotting the ground. About it was the very small beginning of a graveyard. With the years it would grow but always it would be swept by the winds blowing aromatic scents from the forests beyond the lake.

And about the church itself grew simple flowers, some of which were beginning to twine themselves upon the walls. Madge came up the aisle, attended by Stefan and the doctor. Hugo met them, the emotion of the moment having caused some of the pallor to return to his cheeks.

It was soon all over. At the doctor's house there was a little repast, followed by some simple words that sounded hopeful and strong. An hour later the couple left, but not for a honeymoon in the towns. It was in a place reached after many hours of paddling, where the red trout abounded and the swallows darted over the waters. Here in their tent they could do their own cooking, beginning the life that was to be one of mutual help, of cheerful toil, of achievement and of happiness.

When they came back to Carcajou again, Stefan was waiting for them with a strong team of horses able easily to negotiate the tote-road.

This highway, in many places, had been repaired. Fallen trees were cut across and pulled to one side, swampy bits were corduroyed, big holes had been filled in. Indeed, the traffic had become important, all of a sudden, towards the Roaring Falls. Lumber had been hauled there, and many tools, and kegs of nails, and a gang of men had walked over.

Finally they came in sight of the river again, in which were no more black-looking, threatening air-holes. Mostly it was placid now, with rapids that could easily be pa.s.sed over by ably-managed canoes or bateaux, succeeding the deep still waters now and then and frothing and fuming only as if in play. Here a big blue heron rose from it, and there a couple of kingfishers jabbered and scolded and shrieked.

Partridges crossed the road in front of the horses, and the inevitable rabbit scampered away in leisurely fashion.

But they reached the little path that led to the shack without seeing anything of the tiny home or of the falls beyond, for the bushes and shrubs were in full foliage and seemed to be concealing their Eden from pa.s.sers-by. Madge leaped from the wagon. Her kingdom was over there, just a few rods away, and she was eager to see it again.

Yes! The shack was still there, looking tinier than ever. But very close to it a foundation had been dug from which rose rough walls of broken stone. Upon these strong scantlings had been fastened and men were clapboarding them over into a bigger and finer home.

Above the trees some smoke was showing. It marked a place where a half-score shacks and little barracks were going up, to shelter the men who were to follow deeper those promising veins in the great rocks. There would soon be blasting and more drilling and the breaking up of ore, which would be carried down the river to the railroad. But from the edge of the great falls nothing of all this could be seen.

Except for the new house everything seemed to be unchanged. It was with a sentiment of a little awe, of gratefulness, of a surprise which the pa.s.sing of the weeks had not yet been able to dispel, that Madge realized that this was now her own, the place of her future toil, the spot where she was to found a home and fill it with happiness.

It was marvelous! It was a thousand times more splendid than anything she could have conceived when first she was journeying to this country. And the greatness of it lay in the fact that she understood, that she realized, that she knew that the whole world lay before her and her husband, to make or mar, to convert into a part of the great effort that is always a joy, the upbuilding of a home, or to allow to revert into the wilderness again if strength were lacking.

At first she could not step farther than the little spot from which her dwelling-place first stood revealed.

"What do you think of it, Madge?" asked her husband.

"I think that if I had prayed all my life for a wonderful home, before coming here, I would never have been able to pray for anything so splendid. Think of it--you and I--for years and years that will pa.s.s ever so swiftly, together in this glorious place and enjoying perfect peace--the great peace of Roaring River!"

And the man stood by, his heart very full, his thoughts following her own, and a wave of happiness surged into his being, for all that was best in his former dreams was at his hand, since nothing but the woman at his side really counted.

ZANE GREY'S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list

THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS

A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful close.

THE RAINBOW TRAIL

The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great western uplands--until at last love and faith awake.

DESERT GOLD

The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who is the story's heroine.

RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE

A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the story.

THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN

This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant pines."

THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT