"The Indians? No, indeed. Myself. My own carelessness. I carried a candle, and dropped it. The hay caught. I barely escaped from having my clothing burned on me; but I did. Then I forgot everything except my terrible loss and my husband's anger when he returns. I began to fight the fire. I remember my little one crying with fright, but I paid no attention, and when at length I realized that it was too late for me to save our stock I stopped to look for him. Fortunately, the cabin was too far from the barn to catch easily, and there was a wind blowing the other way. That's all that saved the home; yet, when I missed my baby, I wished that it would burn, too, and me with it. Life without him would be a living death. And he would have died, any way. The wolves are awful troublesome this spring. We've lost more than twenty of our hogs and the only pair of sheep we had. So husband joined a party and went out to hunt them. What will he say, what will he say, when he comes back!" In Gaspar's heart there sprang up a great happiness. The ill which had happened here was so much less than he had anticipated that he took courage for himself. After all, the Sun Maid might be safe, as Abel had declared she said she should be. He remembered, at last, that not all men are evil, even red ones; and in the reaction of his own feelings, he exclaimed: "What can he say, but give thanks that no worse befell him!" However, now that her child was safe within her arms, the woman began to suffer in advance the torment she would have to undergo when she faced her indignant husband; and she retorted sharply: "Worse! Well, I suppose so. But I don't see why in the name of common sense I was let to be such a fool in the first place. He won't, neither. It's all very well when you've lost half your property to give thanks for not losing your life, too; but I don't see any cause for losing ary one." This sounded so like Mercy and her philosophy that Gaspar threw back his head and laughed; which angered his new friend first, and then affected her, also, with something of his mirth. "I can't see a thing to laugh at, I, for one," she remarked, trying to be stern. "Oh! but I can. And I'm not a laughing man, in ordinary. But there's one thing I know--I'm powerful hungry. Can't we make another fire, one that we can control, and get a bit of supper? If there's anything in the house to cook, I can cook it while you tend baby. Then we'll talk over your affairs." "There's plenty to cook, but you'll not cook it, sir. I owe you my child's life, and now things are getting straighter in my muddled mind. I lost the barn for Jacob, and I must help replace it. I've been a hard worker always, but I can stretch another point, I guess. Pshaw! I believe it's getting daylight. It'll be breakfast instead of supper, this time."