If she did know, she kept her secret from him all that day.  They left Tete Jaune before sunrise with an outfit which MacDonald had cut down to six horses.  Its smallness roused Joanne’s first question, for Aldous had described to her an outfit of twenty horses.  He explained that a large outfit made travel much more difficult and slow, but he did not tell her that with six horses instead of twenty they could travel less conspicuously, more easily conceal themselves from enemies, and, if necessary, make quick flight or swift pursuit.

They stopped to camp for the night in a little basin that drew from Joanne an exclamation of joy and wonder.  They had reached the upper timber-line, and on three sides the basin was shut in by treeless and brush-naked walls of the mountains.  In the centre of the dip was a lake fed by a tiny stream that fell in a series of ribbonlike cataracts a sheer thousand feet from the snow-peaks that towered above them.  Small, parklike clumps of spruce dotted the miniature valley; over it hung a sky as blue as sapphire and under their feet was a carpet of soft grass sprayed with little blue forget-me-nots and wild asters.

“I have never seen anything a half so beautiful as this!” cried Joanne, as Aldous helped her from her horse.

As her feet touched the ground she gave a little cry and hung limply in his arms.

“I’m lame—­lame for life!” she laughed in mock humour.  “John, I can’t stand.  I really can’t!”

Old Donald was chuckling in his beard as he came up.

“You ain’t nearly so lame as you’ll be to-morrow,” he comforted her.  “An’ you won’t be nearly so lame to-morrow as you’ll be next day.  Then you’ll begin to get used to it, Mis’ Joanne.”

“Mrs. Aldous, Donald,” she corrected sweetly.  “Or—­just Joanne.”

At that Aldous found himself holding her so closely that she gave a little gasp.

“Please don’t,” she expostulated.  “Your arms are terribly strong, John!”

MacDonald had turned away, still chuckling, and began to unpack.  Joanne looked behind her, then quickly held up her softly pouted lips.  Aldous kissed her, and would have kissed her again but she slipped suddenly from his arms and going to Pinto began to untie a dishpan that was fastened to the top of his pack.

“Get to work, John Aldous!” she commanded.

MacDonald had camped before in the basin, and there were tepee poles ready cut, as light and dry as matchwood.  Joanne watched them as they put up the tent, and when it was done, and she looked inside, she cried delightedly: 

“It’s the snuggest little home I ever had, John!”