Slowly the fiery globe of the sun sank below the horizon, slowly a pink and purple splendor spread over the evening sky. A hawk flew by, wheeling majestically through the intensely blue dome. Joshua Peniman knelt upon the grass. "Let us thank God," he said in a low, reverent voice, "who has led us through the perils of the day and brought us to this His holy temple to-night."
That night while the others slept Hannah Peniman sat long on the banks of the Minne-to-wauk-pala, her eyes fastened upon its blue waters, her thoughts busy with many things.
When they arose the next morning she laid her hand upon her husband's arm.
"Come down to the river with me, Joshua," she said. "I want to talk to you."
She led him to the wide flat rock upon which she had sat and thought the night before, and sitting down beside him took his hand.
"Isn't it a heavenly place?" she sighed.
"It is indeed. We could have found no lovelier to make our camp."
"Our home, Joshua."
"Our home?" He turned quickly and looked at her.
"Yes, dear, our home. I came here last night after you had all gone to bed and communed long with God. I feel that it is His hand that led us here. Why go farther into the wilderness, dear heart? Why brave farther the perils of heat and drought and physical suffering? Here we have timber, water, grass for our cow and horses, shade and protection for ourselves, good land, apparently everything that we need to make our new home. Why go any farther? Why not call our journey ended and locate right here?"