Ahmik now had the door cleared and they entered. The cabin contained a single square room. At one side was a flat-topped sheet-iron stove, similar in design to the tent stove commonly in use in the north, but of considerably larger proportions and heavier material. Near it was a rough table, in the end opposite the door stood a rough-hewn bedstead, the bed neatly made up with white spread and pillow cases. A shelf of well-thumbed books--the _Bible_, _Shakespeare_, _Thomas à Kempis_, Milton’s _Paradise Lost_, Bunyan’s _Pilgrim’s Progress_, Wordsworth’s _Poems_, _Robinson Crusoe_, _Mother Goose’s Melodies_, _Aesop’s Fables_, _David Copperfield_, and some random novels and volumes of travel and adventure. On one end of a second table, evidently used as a writing desk, were neatly piled old magazines and newspapers, on the other end lay some sheet music and a violin, and in the center were writing materials. The chairs, like all of the furniture, were doubtless the handiwork of Amesbury himself. Everything in the room was spotlessly clean and in order. The setting sun sent a shaft of sunlight through a window, giving the room an air of brightness, and enhancing its atmosphere of homely comfort. When the fire which Amesbury lighted in the stove began to crackle, he asked: “Well, fellows, how do you like my den? Think you can be comfortable here for three or four months?” “’Tis grand, sir,” said Dan. “Mr. Amesbury, it’s splendid!” declared Paul. Both lads had been long enough from home, and had endured sufficient buffeting of the wilderness to measure by contrast with their recent experiences the attractions of Amesbury’s cabin, and it appealed to them as little short of luxurious. “Not splendid, but good enough for a trapper. Hang up your things; you’ll find pegs. Make yourselves at home now. Sit down and rest up. Ahmik will take care of the stuff outside,” and as Amesbury went about the preparation of supper he sang: “‘There was an old woman, and what do you think? She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink: Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet; This tiresome old woman could never be quiet.’” Luscious caribou steaks were soon frying, biscuits were baking, and presently the delicious odor of coffee filled the room. “I always keep coffee here,” explained Amesbury. “Rather have it than tea, but it’s too bulky to carry when I’m hitting the trail.” “It’s the first smell of coffee I’ve had since we left the ship, and oh, but it smells bully to me!” said Paul. Candles were lighted, a snowy white cloth spread on the table. When at length they sat down to eat, Amesbury, with bowed head, asked grace. “’Tis good,” remarked Dan, accepting a liberal piece of caribou meat, “t’ hear un say grace. Dad always says un.”