or pictured mountains with rivers running between them--all of which,
from the Belle's point of view, was not only a waste of time, but had
absolutely nothing to do with the case.

The Belle and her brown mother came to the camp of the Silent first one
glorious morn in the moon of August, with a basket of wild berries and a
pair of beaded moccasins. Smith bought both--the berries for Jaquis, out
of which he built strange pies, and the moccasins for himself. He called
them his night slippers, but as a matter of fact there was no night on
the Athabasca at that time. The day was divided into three shifts, one
long and two short ones,--daylight, dusk, and dawn. So it was daylight
when the Belle first fixed her large dark eyes upon the strong, handsome
face of Smith the Silent, as he sat on his camp stool, bent above a map
he was making. Belle's mother, being old in years and unafraid, came
close, looked at the picture for a moment, and exclaimed: "Him Jasper
Lake," pointing up the Athabasca.

"You know Jasper Lake?" asked the engineer, glancing up for the first
time.

"_Oui_," said the old woman (Belle's step-father was half French); "know
'im ver' well."

Smith looked her over as a matter of habit, for he allowed no man or
woman to get by him with the least bit of information concerning the
country through which his imaginary line lay. Then he glanced at Belle
for fully five seconds, then back to his blue print. Nobody but a
he-nun, or a man already wedded to the woods, could do that, but to the
credit of the camp it will go down that the chief was the only man in
the outfit who failed to feel her presence. As for Jaquis, the alloyed