"If only I had a Mrs. Beeton!" sighed Helen. "Though I daresay she wouldn't give any recipe for frozen moose and rice and beans, without even an onion to flavour. The civilized cookery books don't deal with the essentials. When I return to the polite world the first thing I shall do will be to publish a pocket cookery book for happy people stranded in the wilds!"
"Happy!" he echoed, smilingly.
"I speak for myself," she retorted lightly. "You don't suppose that I regret these weeks away from civilization. I never was happier in my life. I have, you will agree, proved myself. I can face an unprecedented situation without fainting. I can cook a dinner without killing a man who eats it. I have set a leg successfully, and built a raft that floated safely, and reared two lodges in the wilderness. I have no nerves, whilst nearly every woman I know is just a quivering bundle of them. Yesterday, when I went out to the wood-pile a big lynx came round the corner of it. His eyes simply blazed at me. Six months ago, I should have run indoors. As it was, I threw a chunk of wood at him and he bolted."
"You never told me," began Stane.
"What need?" interrupted the girl. "You don't inform me every time you see a lynx!"
"But you must be careful," replied Stane anxiously. "At this season of the year, if he is very hungry, the lynx can be a dangerous beast. Remember his claws are like knives and he has ten of them."
"Oh, I will remember," answered Helen cheerfully. She stooped over the pan, and then, announced: "I think this mess of savoury venison is ready, and I don't believe our cook at home could have done it half so well. If my lord and cobbler will put away the snow-shoe we will dine, and after the washing up I will sleep."
It was in this spirit of lightness that she faced all the hardships incidental to their present life, and it was little wonder that at times, between her gaiety and her challenging presence, Stane had much ado to keep his resolve. Half a dozen times a day his resolution was tested, and one of the severest trials came on the afternoon of that very day.
The snow had ceased and the night had fallen, and desiring exercise they left the cabin together to walk in an open glade in the wood which the strong wind had swept almost clear of snow. Except themselves there was nothing moving. The vast stillness of the North was everywhere about them, and a little oppressed by the silence they walked briskly to and fro, Stane using his injured leg with a freedom that showed that it was returning to its normal strength. Suddenly the girl laid a mittened hand on his arm.
"What is it?" he asked quickly.