Another scene opens, upon the same afternoon, in the wide-spread forest, some miles from the cabin of the Hinton family. Around the rude but strong cabin of a settler, several acres of the primitive forest had been felled, allowing the full sunlight to kiss the dark-brown cheek of the sleeping earth. Wild fields were there, into which the seed already had been placed, to germinate and fructify during the coming season. Upon the borders of this clearing stood a young man, busily engaged in felling one of the forest monarchs. Although not above the medium height, his broad chest and muscular development proclaimed him a true son of the border. The heavy axe he wielded rose and fell with regular strokes, sending showers of chips flying merrily through the air. Already the work was half done, and, resting his axe upon the ground, Charles Markley threw his bearskin cap beside it; then, drawing a worn handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the beaded sweat which stood in great drops upon his brow. Throwing the handkerchief upon the cap, the youth changed his position, and opened another shower of blows, which rung merrily through the old wood. At length the giant trembled beneath the steady strokes; then wavered and toppled for a moment, as if in uncertainty. Once, twice, thrice the axe was planted heavily, and, with a steady sweep, like that of a rushing cloud, the old oak thundered to the ground. The young man regarded his work for a moment in a satisfied manner, then glanced at the sinking sun—picked up the neglected cap, and seated himself upon the large trunk. For some moments he remained in a reverie. “I’d like to see Emily,” he mused, “but I think I’d better not go over to-night. ’Tis just a year to-day since her poor mother died, and it must be a sad recurrence to them. Poor Emily; it was a terribly hard blow to her, and the sorrow it caused is not all effaced yet. But she will soon be my wife; then, I feel sure she will forget those old sorrows in her new joys.” Rising from his seat, the young man gazed about him for a moment; then, throwing his axe upon one shoulder, he turned toward the cabin which stood in the centre of the clearing. The scene within the cabin, an hour later, was pleasant, and characteristic of the settler’s surroundings. The evening meal was over, the duties of the different parties had been duly attended to, and, while a ruddy fire glowed upon the hearth, a delicious feeling of comfort spread itself around. The four persons composing the household sat in a group around the fireside. There was the father—a sturdy, deep-chested backwoodsman; the mother—a pleasant woman of forty-five, and the two vigorous athletes, whom the father invariably designated as “the boys!” Such was the group.