So the night before the morning of departure came round. In three days Marcel had completed every preparation, and all was in readiness for the earliest possible start.
By the time supper was finished the summer daylight showed no sign of giving way to the two-hour night. Marcel had that in his mind which he was determined to do before their well-earned rest beside the camp-fire was taken. And he pointed at the iron-bound cliff which frowned down upon the waters of the river.
"Say, Keeko, I've a notion to set it up before we quit," he said, with a laugh. "Do you feel like passing me a hand?"
Keeko turned from the sluggish waters, black with the reflection of the barren walls of the gorge.
"What are you going to set up?" she questioned like one dragged back from the contemplation of happy dreams.
"Oh, it's just a notion," Marcel laughed, in a boyish, half shamefaced fashion as he lit his pipe with a firebrand. "Will you—come along?"
Keeko was on her feet in a moment. For all the days of labour there was no weariness in her body. Besides——
"Guess you're handing me a mystery," she cried happily. "Seeing I'm a woman I can't just miss it."
So they passed up the rugged foreshore to the foot of the path that cut a perilous ascent to the fringe of the primordial forest above. It was the man who led, and Keeko had no desire that it should be otherwise.
In a few minutes they were standing beside the fallen tree-trunk where Marcel had first gazed down upon the scant encampment over which his sovereignty was now absolute. He drew a deep breath as he gazed again upon that first scene of the new life that had come to him.