But if it came to fighting--he would fight.
The rain had slackened to a thin drizzle by the time he finished his bailing.

The aroma of cedar and balsam came to him more clearly, and he heard more distinctly the murmuring surge of the river.

He tapped again at the door of the cabin, and Marette answered him.
The fire had burned down to a bed of glowing coals when he entered.
Again he fell on his knees, and took off his dripping slicker.
The girl greeted him from the berth.

"You look like a great bear, Jeems." There was a glad, welcoming note in her voice.
He laughed, and drew the stool beside her, and managed to sit on it, the roof compelling him to bend his head over a little.

"I feel like an elephant in a birdcage," he replied.