of a man's arm, that flowers smothered the land and berries turned
it scarlet and black. He had dreaded these days--days of what he
called "the great discovery"--the time when a crowded civilization
would at last understand how the fruits of the earth leaped up to
the call of twenty hours of sun each day, even though that earth
itself was eternally frozen if one went down under its surface
four feet with a pick and shovel.

Tonight the gloom came earlier because of the clouds in the west.
It was very still. Even the breeze had ceased to come from up the
river. And as Carrigan listened, exulting in the thought that the
coolness of the wet sand was drawing the fever from him, he heard
another sound. At first he thought it was the splashing of a fish.
But after that it came again, and still again, and he knew that
it was the steady and rhythmic dip of paddles.

A thrill shot through him, and he raised himself to his elbow.
Dusk covered the river, and he could not see. But he heard low
voices as the paddles dipped. And after a little he knew that one
of these was the voice of a woman.

His heart gave a big jump. "She is coming back," he whispered to
himself. "She is coming back!"





IV