The sun was going down behind the western hills in a flood of yellow light, and a river dimpled on under the slanting rays, great fish leaping now and then from the placid surface, and the trees along the bank casting fantastic shadows into its depths. In a sheltered nook, near a spot where a little creek joined the river, a settler had built a cabin, which the hand of woman had beautified and adorned as only the hand of woman can. Bright flowers bloomed on each side of the rustic doorway and an English ivy vine clung to the walls and was rapidly spreading its delicate tendrils over the whole front. The cabin faced the stream, and behind it the hand of industry had cleared many acres which n…
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