Nowhere was there cushion, curtain, or knickknack that told of a woman's taste or touch.

On the other hand, neither was there anywhere gun, pelt, or antlered head that spoke of a man's strength and skill.

For decoration there were a beautiful copy of the Sistine Madonna, several photographs signed with names well known out in the great world beyond the mountains, and a festoon of pine cones such as a child might gather and hang.
From the little lean-to kitchen the sound of the sputtering suddenly ceased, and at the door appeared a pair of dark, wistful eyes.
"Daddy!" called the owner of the eyes.
There was no answer.
"Father, are you there ?" called the voice, more insistently.
From one of the bunks came a slight stir and a murmured word.

At the sound the boy at the door leaped softly into the room and hurried to the bunk in the corner.

He was a slender lad with short, crisp curls at his ears, and the red of perfect health in his cheeks.