Through interminable forest of spruce, pine and hemlock; through scraggy underwood, through clumps of tamarack poles, through dense cedar hedges; in and out among boulders of rock hard as adamant, jutting crags and angry precipices, over mounds of granite and shelving plates of limestone; over hill and down dale, the men of the 100th slowly made their way. Cutting down brushwood among rocky masses, made a narrow lane through which soldiers, two abreast, could force a tortuous march; but to make sleigh roads for teams to transport goods for settlement and garrison was a more difficult matter. The way through the frozen wilderness was unbroken, and Indian guides, as well as their own scouts, were sent on ahead to locate the road they must cut. Even a deadlock was possible, and to save interminable journeys around impassable ravines, teams would be unhitched and horses saddle-bagged and led singly, while men carried goods in their arms or on their shoulders to the smoother way beyond.

Many more days passed away as slowly but surely they forged ahead in a south-west direction. Monotony of labor, monotony of snow, monotony of cold, but variety of wilderness. Sometimes troops of squirrels chattered and scampered around them. Bold, black fellows would run down tall pines and angrily interrogate the drivers and, having delivered their message, dart back from tree to tree and disappear in the distance. Mink would run in and out among the boulders, sometimes brought down by a soldier's gun, but more frequently lost in a hole in the ice, to reappear next minute when distance lent safety to the view. Now and then a wild cat was seen as well as heard, and in the early dawn the tail of the red fox, as he darted across the smooth surface of a frozen lake and startled the deer as they lay in sheltered nook or browsed among the bushes. But of wolves they saw no more, though night was often made hideous with their unearthly yells, always reminiscent of that one occasion, so long to be remembered.

At last, on a bright March morning, they drove out upon a broad, level plain. Octopus feelers stretched out in every direction. They were on the Lake of Bays. Next, with all the speed they could muster, they struck southward along Muskoka River. Then over hill and dale, across ponds and beyond Muskoka Lake. South and west was still the watchword till Waubashene was left behind, and finally one day, with the bright sun shining above them, the terminus was reached.

"All things come to him who waits and prays the Lord to guide him!" piously exclaimed the Chaplain.

"God be praised, we're here at last, thanks to our perseverance," echoed Sir George. "But waiting would never bring a man to his destined haven. Egad! this is a fine spot! Looks well in winter, what must it be in summer?"

"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Doctor, whose expletives were always in French, "if yonder is not a schooner frozen fast in the ice."

"Yes, and by my father's ghost, there's a man on her deck taking stock of us," cried Cummings.

At this moment the men gave a loud cheer, which was answered by a whoop from the owner of the boat.

"The unexpected always happens," said Sir George; "who could imagine that we should find a brig here? Captain, send down Bond and Hardman to tell the man I would like to converse with him."

In a short time the men of the little column, as well as horses and sleighs, were gathered in an open space above the crest of the hill. On two sides and behind them the forest extended illimitably, while through the scattered trees in front, the surface of the bay stretched out for miles. It was here they purposed camping in temporary shanties and tents until permanent houses could be built.

A week's rest at Roche Lake had improved Helen's condition, and now with joy she welcomed the end of their long march.

"Home at last," cried Harold, as their sleigh stopped.

"Even if it is a snowbank," she responded with a laugh.

"Scarcely that bad," said Sir George, who overheard her. "I see two or three empty shanties yonder. They can be fixed a bit. And that little schooner may have accommodation, perhaps. We shall soon know."

The spot on which they stood was tramped hard by the many feet of the men, and Helen alighted.

"I wonder if there is a woman on board of her?" she questioned.

"If there is, she's had a winter of it," commented Harold, "though not as hard as you have had, dearie."

"I can sympathize with any of your sex now, our own women particularly," exclaimed Sir George, and extending his hand to Helen, he continued, "and I congratulate you, Mrs. Manning, most cordially, may I say affectionately, for the brave and noble fight you have put up during the whole of this terrible journey. We are all proud of you, and when I tell your uncle, Sir Charles, of the doings of the brave lady we took out to the west, he will simply be amazed."

Helen's cheeks flushed, and her eyes drooped as she murmured her thanks, but her thoughts were wandering off in another direction.

"You are not going back soon?" she asked, timidly.

"Certainly not for a while; but when summer comes I may have to, unless you make the new fort so charming by your presence, that even an old fellow like myself cannot tear himself away," replied the Colonel, gallantly.

"But how could we possibly do without you?"

"Oh, that can easily be managed, and to save time, preliminaries are already being arranged."

"You are cold," said Harold, noticing the sudden whiteness of her face. "Let us step to the fire."

Already one was burning, and beside it she stood, silently watching the men felling trees for the larger camp of the night.

"This is Mr. Latimer, sir," said the Corporal to Sir George, touching his hat; with him were Hardman and the shuffling skipper. "He owns the craft."

"Good day, sir," exclaimed the man, with a general air of amazement on his face.

"Good day to you," Sir George replied, extending his hand. "We were surprised to find a boat in the ice with a live man on it at this time of the year."

"No more'n I was to see youse, sir; an' where the deuce you all comes from beats me."

"On sledges straight from the Pole," returned the Colonel with a smile.

"So I suspect!" a humorous twinkle taking the place of the look of astonishment, "but I didna think the Yankees could scare red-coats so far north as that."

"Not so bad! But who have you on that boat of yours, or are you alone? In fact, have you any accommodations to spare? Two or three berths, for instance."

"There's me an' my old woman. If she's willin' possibly we might take in two or three womenfolk, if they can put up with our fixings."

The man took a side glance at Helen, who stood by the fire, and then at the other women, but his eye immediately reverted to the first face. She had regained her color and was attentively observing him.

"Thank you," returned the Colonel, "but how do you happen to be frozen up in this plight?"

"That's easy told," returned the man with a nod. He evidently wanted to have a talk. "Fact is, I'm a trader, dealin' with Indians and whites all around the Georgian Bay. But you see this war bizness knocked me out a bit, for it wan't safe to run a craft right in the teeth o' destruction; so I waited till fall, and when the gunboats laid up for the winter I pitched in and did a rushing business right up to December. Then the big gale hit us, and I thought it would blow the Bumble Bee to pieces, but it didn't. She just drifted right to where she is. Lor! how it did blow that night! An' it friz, too, like all creation! When mornin' came we was froze in as solid as a rock, an' here we are yet, and likely to be for a spell. Turn about's fair play. Straight bizness—none o' yer foolin'! Where did youse all come from?"

"From Halifax."

"How in Sam Hill did you do it?"

"By cutting our way through the woods."

"Well, I swa'an!" The man pulled out a jack-knife and began whittling a stick. Then he expectorated an exceedingly long distance, and finished by exclaiming: "Golly, but you're bricks—and to think of having a leddy with you, too!"

"Thank you," said Sir George.

"An' how much farther be you going? Clean through to the coast?"

"No; this is the end."

"An' you'll stay here?"

"Yes."

"An' build a barrack for the sojers?"

"Yes."

"By Jehupitee Cripes! If that don't beat all! I must tell my woman. Won't the Bumble Bee make a fortin'?"

Latimer clapped his knee in high glee. Then he turned to shuffle down to the boat to tell his better half the good news.

"Stay!" called Sir George, and, turning to Harold, he continued: "You and your wife had better go with Mr. Latimer and see what accommodation he has to offer. It might save time."

So, accompanied by Bond, they followed the man in single file down the footpath through the snow. A steep but straight decline led to the level of the frozen lake. About twenty yards from the shore lay the Bumble Bee. It was a small craft with two masts and about nine feet beam. The gunwale stood several feet above the ice, and beside the little midship cabin the whole of the poop had been boarded in by a railing. A pile of wood lay beside the boat, and as Helen stepped across the little gangway, she noticed that the foredeck was cleanly swept.

With arms akimbo, a middle-aged, stern-faced woman stood in the narrow doorway, but her thick homespun dress and general air of tidiness and thrift gave confidence to her visitor, notwithstanding the puzzled look of inquiry with which she returned Helen's salutation.

"These people want to know eff we'll tak' in boarders?" said Latimer, by way of introduction. "What say you, Meg?"

"He means," said Harold, "that we are stranded, and would like you, if possible, to accommodate this lady and two or three other women until we can build our own quarters."

For a moment or two the woman looked straight into Helen's frank and kindly eyes. Then her hard expression softened, and a smile lit up her face as she accepted Helen's hand.

"I guess I can," was her answer. "It ain't much, but such as I have she's welcome to. About t'other women I don't know, for I haven't seen 'em yet."

Helen's eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you," she said.

"Step right in, marm; the coop is warm if it is little, and there's a chair you can sit down in," pointing to a little rocker which Latimer had made for her. "It's kinder comfortable."

"I'm sure it is," said Helen, and slowly she rocked herself to and fro, while she listened to the talk of the woman.

She felt strangely attracted by her. Some old memory link of the past was aroused. Had she seen that face before, and if so, when and where? While talking and asking questions Helen's mind was in an analytical mood, dissecting, so far as she could, everything associated with her appearance and life. Who was she? Where had she seen her? Was it possible that their lives had ever touched each other—this woman, double her own age and of different station? Yes, there was a link somewhere. Of this she felt sure. She must solve the mystery, but not now. To find a spot to rest in was enough for the present.