And in this belief his grief was softened by the sweet and merciful comfort of a possession of which neither man nor fate could rob him--a beloved Presence always with him.
It was this Presence that rebuilt Kent.

It urged him to throw up his head again, to square his shoulders, to look life once more straight in the face.

It was both inspiration and courage to him and grew nearer and dearer to him as time passed.

Early Autumn found him in the Fond du Lac country, two hundred miles east of Fort Chippewyan.

That Winter he joined a Frenchman, and until February they trapped along the edges of the lower fingers of the Barrens.
He came to think a great deal of Picard, his comrade.