"What was her name, daddy?"
"The gardener called her 'Heart's Ease.'"
"Funny—funny—name," came low and sleepily from the child.
Martin paused, while his thoughts roamed back over the past. He sat thus for some time holding Nance, who had fallen asleep in his arms. At length he arose, laid the child gently in the little rough cot he had prepared for her with such care, and wrapped her well up in the blanket he had obtained from an Indian. He stood for a while watching her by the flickering light of the fire. He then picked up his violin and, seating himself, began to play soft and low. The wind roared and howled outside, but Martin heeded it not. A mystic door had noiselessly opened, and he had passed through into an enchanted world, where the sorrows, regrets, and cares of earth were for a time forgotten.
CHAPTER VI
'TIS HARD TO FORGET
The following weeks were busy ones for Martin. Winter was fast closing in and he had many things to attend to. First of all it was necessary to lay in a sufficient supply of food to last them until spring. Of fish he had plenty, and these were accordingly cached high up between three large trees, safe from prowling dogs or other animals.
He next turned his attention to the hills and forest. It was an exciting and memorable day when he brought down his first moose. He was a big fellow, with great branching antlers. Martin, in company with an Indian, had come upon him as he was quietly browsing in a wild meadow, several miles back from the lake. To Martin it seemed a most contemptible thing to creep up and shoot the unsuspecting creature. But such a feeling had to be overcome if he and Nance were to live through the winter.
At the first shot the moose gave a tremendous leap into the air, and dropped upon his knees. In his excitement Martin rushed from cover, and exposed himself to view. The wounded animal saw him, and in its dying rage charged suddenly upon his assailant. His antlers were but a few yards away and in another instant they would have hurled Martin to the earth. But again the rifle spoke, and the monarch of the forest went down with a thundering crash, never to rise again.