Her face reflected the radiance of the rising sun, and Kent, looking at her, knew that he had never seen her so beautiful as in these wonderful moments.

He held his own breath, for he also knew that Niska, his goddess, was looking upon her own world again after a long time away.
Her world--and his.

Different from all the other worlds God had ever made; different, even, from the world only a few miles behind them at the Landing.

For here was no sound or whisper of destroying human life.
They were in the embrace of the Great North, and it was drawing them closer, and with each minute nearer to the mighty, pulsing heart of it.
The forests hung heavy and green and glistening with the wet of storm; out of them came the tremulous breath of life and the glory of living; they hugged the shores like watchful hosts guarding the river from civilization--and suddenly the girl held out her arms, and Kent heard the low, thrilling cry that came to her lips.
She had forgotten him.

She had forgotten everything but the river, the forests, and the untrod worlds beyond them, and he was glad.