" He winced sharply, but she went on
coolly: "Of staying here in the wilderness. You are a big boy now.
Many a boy of your age, even smaller and weaker, has gone out in the
world to make his own way. There's no reason for _you_ to hide, is
there? _You_ haven't sacrificed your life for anyone."
"No," he answered doubtfully, "n-no; but, you see, Sylvie, some one
has to take the skins. It isn't safe for Hugh."
"Yes, of course. So that's what you'll do all your life--carry loads
to and fro, between this cabin and the trading-station. But if Hugh
goes away himself?"
"Yes?" he asked breathlessly.
His skillful hands paused in their fashioning of a snare.
"You know, of course, that he wants to take me away with him, to marry
me, to start life again."
"And--and you will, Sylvie?"
"Give me your advice," she said. She pressed her red lips together;
her face was bent upon him as though she watched.
"But," he stammered, "you tell me all the time, a dozen times a day,
that I'm badly trained. What good's my advice?"
"_Are_ you badly trained?"
"I suppose so."
"You are absurdly unselfish, Pete!" She moved a chip along the ground
with her foot, but Pete failed to notice this curious seeing gesture.
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