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The girl reached up suddenly. It was a moment of supreme emotion. She yielded to it. She caught and held her mother’s body in her strong young arms. And then came the flood of tears for the grief that weighed so heavily on both their devoted hearts.
CHAPTER V
Eight Months Later—On the Lias River
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THE dark shadows of winter had long since passed away from the Alaskan world. The almost interminable nights, the pitifully brief days of storm, of cold, the drear that literally eats into the heart and bones of man, these were left a hazy memory to be quickly forgotten, lost in the new season of hope which comes with a generous rush. It was a world released from months of cruel imprisonment.
Just inland from the mouth of the Lias River, where the broad bosom of its stream was lightly stirred by the gentlest of warming spring breezes, a man was at work stowing his stout-built canoe with its cargo of camp outfit. The vessel was moored against a shelving of granite rock. A stout rawhide held it secure to a boulder of ponderous dimensions, for it was a barren, rocky shore without vegetation of any sort.