The elk was hung up out of the reach of any wild beasts that might be
prowling around, and the next day Henry and Sam Barringford skinned the
animal and cut up the meat as Mrs. Morris desired it. The tongue was
smoked, a small part of the forequarter pickled, and the remainder kept
fresh by being hung up where it was cold. That day they dined on elk steaks
and all pronounced the fresh meat very acceptable.

Late in the afternoon Paul Thompson came to the cabin on horseback,
bringing his wife with him.

"We were coming sooner," said the husband, "but my wife got a sore throat
and I thought I had better wait until she was well again."

"I hope it is all right now," replied Mrs. Morris, as she escorted her
visitors into the cabin.

"Quite well, but she mustn't expose herself too much. When I go to
Dennett's I am going to get her a mixture from the doctor."

The Thompsons were astonished to see the babies and wanted at once to hear
all about them.

"It certainly is a queer mix-up," said the man, later on. "I'll see if I
can learn anything about them when I am away. Somebody ought to be able to
place them,--although, to be sure, a great number of children have become
hopelessly lost during the late war."

"We know that," answered Mrs. Morris with a shudder. "Wasn't little Nell
stolen from us by the Indians and then held by that bad French trader, Jean
Bevoir?"