Mr. Campbell in the course of his devotions prayed for the safe return of the poor widow’s son. This he had always done morning and evening since Elspeth had been living with the family. It was a great comfort to the poor mother, who one day said to Mrs. Campbell: “No minister ever prayed for my poor lad to come back before. Now the minister prays for him, I know he will come. I see it a’ as plain as if my eyes were opened; the maister’s prayer goes straight up to the Throne; the Lord receives it, and sends its spirit straight down to my boy’s heart, wherever he may be on the footstool; and he will feel it a-drawing and a-drawing of him until he turns his steps homeward. I know it! And, oh! mem, the one that kept me from going crazy with the trouble was the thought that go where he would, he wouldn’t get out of the Lord’s world; and if I didn’t know where he was, the Lord did; and if I couldn’t see him, the Lord could. So I prayed for him, and by the Lord’s help kept up.” When the prayers were over the little family circle separated. Elspeth went back to her kitchen to wash up her dishes. Hetty and Jennie kissed the husband and father good-night and went up to a spacious, white-draped chamber which was over the parlor, and where a fine sea coal fire was burning; and there they went to rest. CHAPTER V IN THE SILVER MOON MINING CAMP It was the close of a dark November day. Heavy mists hung over the gulch and settled upon the mountain stream that ran between high banks at its bottom, and upon the miners’ huts that dotted either side. The men had returned from their work and many of them were seeking rest and refreshment in the shed dignified with the name of saloon, where they paid very high prices for very bad whisky, and won or lost money with very grimy cards. One excuse for them was this—the camp was a new one, far out of civilization. It had been called into existence by the hue and cry of a new and grand discovery of ore in a mine which the discoverers christened the Silver Moon. It was formed mostly of men who had been unsuccessful in other mines. And there was not a woman in it. Three men sat on the ground in the rudest of rude stone huts, built up irregularly of small fragments of rocks, and roofed with slender logs. There was neither door, window nor chimney, but there was an opening in front, protected by a buffalo hide—to keep the heat in, and there was a hole in the roof to let the smoke out. The floor was the solid earth, and the fire was built against the wall. There was scarcely any furniture to be seen, only a heap of coarse blankets in one corner, and an iron pot and a few tin cups and plates in another. Judy’s well-ordered hut at Grizzly was a little palace compared to this squalid shelter.