branches over his knee, and I groped
round and filled my arms again and
again with little fagots. So after a few
minutes we had a fine fire crackling in
a place where it could not catch the
branches of the trees. Father had
scraped the needles of the pines to-
gether in such a way that a bare rim of
earth was left all around the fire, so that
it could not spread along the ground;
and presently the coffee-pot was over
the fire and bacon was sizzling in the
frying-pan. The good, hearty odours
came out to mingle with the delicious
scent of the pines, and I, setting out
our dishes, began to feel a happiness
different from anything I had ever
known.

Pioneers and wanderers and soldiers
have joys of their own -- joys of which
I had heard often enough, for there had
been more stories told than read in our
house. But now for the first time I
knew what my grandmother and my
uncles had meant when they told me
about the way they had come into the
wilderness, and about the great happi-
ness and freedom of those first days. I,
too, felt this freedom, and it seemed to