"Well, Paul, we are here," he said.

As he spoke he looked keenly and anxiously at his comrade.

"Yes, Henry," Paul replied. "Here we are, and mighty glad am I. It's good
to be in a house again after that river."

Henry noticed at once that his voice was thinner and weaker than usual,
and he saw also that the color on Paul's face was high--the rest and the
little fire in the forest had not been enough. Again he was deeply
grateful for the presence of the cabin. He looked around, with inquiring
eyes that could see everything. It was dusky in the cabin with both door
and window closed, but he observed with especial pleasure, among the
abandoned articles, a small iron pot, suitable for cooking purposes, and a
large water bowl. When he summed up all, it seemed to this resourceful son
of the wilderness that Fortune had been very kind to them. Then he looked
at Paul and distinctly saw a tremor pass over his frame.

"Paul," he said, "are you cold?"

"A little," replied Paul reluctantly. It hurt his pride to confess that he
felt on the verge of physical collapse.

"Then we must have a fire, and I'm going to build it now."

"Won't it be dangerous?" asked Paul. "Won't it be seen?"

"Oh, no," replied Henry lightly. "We are alone in the forest now."

His tone was convincing to Paul, but Henry himself was aware that they