much without ever having seen her.

The two canoes swiftly approached each other, and in a few minutes more
were alongside. With a glad laughing cry Minnetaki leaned over and
kissed her brother, while at the same time her dark eyes shot a curious
glance at the youth of whom she had read and heard so much.

At this time Minnetaki was fifteen. Like her mother's race she was
slender, of almost woman's height, and unconsciously as graceful as a
fawn in her movements. A slightly waving wealth of raven hair framed
what Rod thought to be one of the prettiest faces he had ever seen, and
entwined in the heavy silken braid that fell over her shoulder were a
number of red autumn leaves. As she straightened herself in her canoe
she looked at Rod and smiled, and he in making a polite effort to lift
his cap in civilized style, lost that article of apparel in a sudden
gust of wind. In an instant there was a general laugh of merriment in
which even the old Indian joined. The little incident did more toward
making comradeship than anything else that might have happened, and
laughing again into Rod's face Minnetaki urged her canoe toward the
floating cap.

"You shouldn't wear such things until it gets cold," she said, after
retrieving the cap and handing it to him. "Wabi does--but I don't!"

"Then I won't," replied Rod gallantly, and at Wabi's burst of laughter
both blushed.

That first night at the Post Rod found that Wabi had already made all
plans for the winter's hunting, and the white youth's complete equipment
was awaiting him in the room assigned to him in the factor's house--a