There was a long moment of silence while the girl threw more snow into the pan, and added wood to the fire. Then her words came slowly, and Brent detected a peculiar note in her voice. He wondered
whether it was bitterness, or pain: "My father is dead," she answered, "I do not know his name. Why is Snowdrift an odd name?"
"I think it a beautiful name!" cried Brent.
"Do you—really?" The dark eyes were regarding him with a look in which happiness seemed to be blended with fear lest he were mocking her.
"Indeed I do! I love it. And now tell me more—of your life—of your education."
"I went to school at the mission on the Mackenzie. I went there for a good many years, and I worked hard, for I like to study. And books! I love to read books. I read all they had, and some of them many times. Do you love books?"
"Why yes," answered Brent, "I used to. I haven't read many since I came North."
"Why did you come North?"
"I came for gold."
"For gold!" cried the girl, her eyes shining, "That is why we are here! Wananebish says there is gold here in the barrens. Once many years ago she found it—but we have tried to find the place again, and we cannot."