“I’ll not.” And Agnes took her way along the narrow bridle-path toward the river, glad to find it was lighter outside than in the dim cabin, the windows of which, covered with linen smeared with bear’s grease, did not admit much light. Still it was later than she cared to be out alone, brave though she was, and accustomed to the dangers of the forest, and she was more than usually glad to meet Archie M’Clean coming through the woods with his cows. “Have you seen anything of Sukey?” Agnes called. Archie paused to think, then answered. “She’s over there a bit. I’ll go fetch her for you.” “Oh, no, don’t do that. I can get her if you tell me where she is.” But Archie was striding down the path and Agnes stood still waiting, keeping an eye the while on Archie’s cows. Presently the familiar tinkle of Sukey’s bell announced her approach, then the girl and the lad slowly followed the cows along the river’s bank, Agnes doing most of the talking, but Archie her willing listener. The little settlement was slowly increasing. More than one young man, though he possessed little beyond his rifle, his horse, and his axe, was ready to marry the girl of his choice, who would take her wedding journey through the silent woods and would become mistress of the small farm whose acres could be increased indefinitely with little trouble. Therefore, when young John McCormick began to make ready for his bride, there were neighbors enough to join in and help to chop and roll the logs, and next to raise the house itself.