hard enough to carry them. How pleasant it was to Jean to lie there
and rest. She felt that she could not endure another day of travel
through the forest. She had been tired the night before, but it was
little compared to now. Every bone in her body ached, and her feet
were sore and blistered. It was good to lie there listening to the
rain beating its tat-too upon the roof, and watching the smoke
scurrying upwards. She could hear the wind howling among the trees,
and vainly striving to force an entrance into their snug retreat.

Nearby Sam had his cache among the lower branches of four spruce trees,
and high enough from the ground to be safe from prowling animals. From
this he brought down some provisions, including a piece of moose meat,
tea, and a little flour. With the latter Kitty baked several bannocks
before the fire, which tasted especially good to Jean after her sole
diet of meat. These were eaten with the honey of wild bees which the
Indians had gathered during the summer.

"These are good," Jean remarked, as she helped herself to a second
bannock. "Where did you get this honey?"

Kitty laughed as she pointed to her husband, who was dragging in
several large sticks.

"Sam get'm last summer. Bees bite Sam, see?" and she put her hands to
her face and neck. "Sam head beeg. Hurt." Again she laughed at the
recollection of her husband's swollen face.

When Sam had finished his task of bringing in the wood, he squatted
before the fire and ate his supper. Then he brought forth a plug of
tobacco, whittled off several slices with his hunting-knife, filled his