Thus in the cosy cabin before the bright fire Martin and Nance played upon their beloved instruments. The storm continued to rage outside, but they heeded it not. Forgotten for a while were their worries, and what the future might have in store did not trouble them. The music cheered them, and united their hearts with the strong bands of enduring affection.
CHAPTER XIII
THE LAP OF TO-MORROW
The storms of winter were over, and the days were rapidly lengthening. The sun rode higher in the heavens, and the breath of spring was pervading the great northland. Nance was much excited at the thought of leaving the Quaska valley and passing beyond the mountains to the marvellous world outside. She dwelt upon it by day and dreamed of it by night. Her few scanty belongings she had carefully gathered together. These she would take with her. But when out in the big cities she would buy many wonderful things for which her heart longed.
Martin noted her animation, and listened quietly as she talked about the journey they were to make, and what nice times they would have seeing the strange sights. Although he was pleased to see Nance so happy, his heart, nevertheless, was heavy. To him the idea of mingling once again with the throbbing world of humanity brought no joy. The little cabin in the wilderness was very dear to him. Here he had spent the past twelve years, hidden from people of his own race and immune from the bitter tongues of men and women. The lake, river, forest, and mountains were friends true and tried. He loved them, and their varying moods drew him very close to them. He had watched and studied them so often, both in calm and storm, that he wondered how he could get along without them. The Indians, too, though rough and uncouth, had been kind neighbors. He disliked their manner of living and their improvident ways. Yet they had always been good to him and to Nance, and he should greatly miss them. Thus he would sit at night, long after Nance had gone to bed, smoking and thinking about the changes which were soon to take place in his life.
He was seated one evening before the fire with Nance by his side, when the door of the cabin was gently pushed open, and Taku glided into the room. He was given a hearty welcome, and Martin passed over his tobacco as soon as the native had squatted himself upon the floor. When Taku had filled his pipe, and clouds of smoke were circling above his head, an expression of satisfaction overspread his honest, dusky face.
"Snow all go soon," he at length remarked. "Geese, duck all come back. Plenty grub den."
"How long before the ice goes out this year?" Martin asked.
"Beeg moon, leetle moon, moon all go. Ice go also," was the reply.