morning in September. How his father would come down to shake his hand
and say: "My stalwart lad has done bravely, an' I'm proud o' un." His
mother, all smiles, would run out to meet him and take him in her arms
and praise and pet him, and then he would hurry in to see dear,
patient little Emily on her couch, and her face would light up at
sight of him and she would hold out her hands to him in an ecstasy of
delight and call: "Oh, Bob! Bob! my fine big brother has come back to
me at last!" Then he would bring in his furs and proudly exhibit the
silver fox and hear their praises, and perhaps he would have another
silver fox by that time. After a while Douglas Campbell would come
over and tell him how wonderfully well he had done. With his share of
the martens he would pay his debt to the company, and he and Douglas
would let the mail boat doctor sell the silver fox and other skins for
them, and Emily would go to the hospital and after a little while come
back her old gay little self again, to romp and play and laugh and
tease him as she used to do. With fancy making for him these dreams of
happiness, the day passed after all much less tediously than he had
expected.

On Monday morning, as soon as it was light enough to see, Bob started
out to look for the caribou, leaving the tent as Micmac John found it.
He made the great mistake of not taking with him his axe, for an axe
is often a life saver in the northern wilderness, and a hunter should
never be without one. He crossed the marsh and then the ridge of low
hills to the northward, finally coming out upon a large lake. It was
now midday, the snow had commenced falling, and to continue the hunt
further was useless.

"'Tis goin' t' be nasty weather an' I'll have t' be gettin' back t'
th' tent," said he regretfully as he realized that a severe storm was