After that he would keep always west and north, deeper and deeper into that wild and untraveled country which would be the last place in which the Law would seek for them.

He straightened himself and looked at the smoke again, drifting like gray-white lace between him and the blue of the sky, and in that moment the sun capped the tall green tops of the highest cedars, and day broke gloriously over the earth.
For a quarter of an hour longer Kent mopped at the floor of the scow, and then--with a suddenness that drew him up as if a whip-lash had snapped behind him--he caught another aroma in the clean, forest-scented air.

It was bacon and coffee! He had believed that Marette was taking her time in putting on dry footwear and making some sort of morning toilet.

Instead of that, she was getting breakfast.

It was not an extraordinary thing to do.