"So the following year old Roderick, who had never given up for a moment the idea of making this his permanent home, started the stone house. He built one wing. His son added a wing. Grandfather can tell you how he built the last addition, and another story, and how he put on a roof of tiles in 1860 after the Cariboo gold rush. "The Chilcotins pulled off another surprise party in 1826, but they got such a hot reception they never tried again. By that time old Roderick had two sons and two daughters. The youngest son was the only man killed on our side. He led a party to destroy the Chilcotin canoes while they were attacking the house. He was killed by an arrow. But they smashed the canoes and only two Chilcotins out of forty got away. In fact, they were spared to go back and tell the rest of the tribe that it was bad medicine to molest the white men who lived at Hawk's Nest. "They understood that, evidently, because they never came back. Although nearly twenty years later a brother of grandfather's was stuck full of arrows one evening right down where our boat landing is now. That killing was credited to the Chilcotins--in revenge. But it wasn't a fight. It was pure assassination. However, that was the last bloodshed here. "The first fifty years of holding Hawk's Nest was altogether a pretty lively affair. But they kept right on the job. In '59 gold was found in the Cariboo and people rushed into B.C. by thousands. The Hudson's Bay monopoly was broken. B.C. became a Crown colony. We got title to our land. Grandfather began to operate in timber. Confederation with the Dominion took place in '69 or '70, in my father's time. There have been lots of changes in this country since old Roderick came. But we're still here." "You can quite truthfully say that you belong to one of the first families, eh, Rod?" Laska bantered. "Oh, well," he replied carelessly, "that's sheer accident. Nothing to be cocky about. I didn't have any hand in the big doings." "Still, it's something to live up to, don't you think?" she inquired seriously. "Perhaps. I don't know that it's on the cards for me to carry on any particular tradition. Neither myself nor Phil. We're superfluous, in a way. Of course we belong to the family, and all that sort of thing. But we're only younger sons, after all." "I don't quite understand," Laska wrinkled her brows. "What difference does that make?"