During the last five minutes of that half-hour both Joanne and Aldous knew that MacDonald was looking at the little cabin nearest the stream, and with hands clasped tightly they waited in silence.
At last old Donald rose, and his face and voice were filled with a wonderful calm.
"There ain't been no change," he said softly.

"I can see the log in front o' the door that I used to cut kindling on.

It was too tough for them to split an' burn after we left.

An' I can see the tub I made out o' spruce for Jane.

It's leaning next the door, where I put it the day before we went away.