And it was true that had this birthday come a few weeks before, on the river journey and previous to their occupation of the cave, Ben would have let it pass unnoticed.  The smoldering fire in his brain would have seared to ashes any such kindly thought as this.  But when the wild hunter leaves his leafy lair and goes to dwell, a man rather than a beast, in a permanent abode, he has thought for other subjects than his tribal wars and the blood-lust of his hates.  The hearth, and the care and friendship of the girl had tamed Ben to this degree, at least.

But wonders were not done.  The look in the girl’s eyes suddenly melted, as the warm sun melts ice, some of the frozen bitterness of his spirit.  “It’s your birthday—­and I hope you have many of ’em,” he went on.  “No more like this—­but all of ’em happy,—­as you deserve.”

He walked toward her, and her eyes could not leave his.  He bent soberly, and brushed her lips with his own.

There were always worlds to talk about in the warm gleam of their fire.  When the day’s work was done, and the hush of early night gathered the land to its arms, they would sit on their fireside seats and settle all problems, now and hereafter, to the perfect satisfaction of them both.

From Ben, Beatrice gained a certain strength of outlook as well as depth of insight, but she gave him in return more than she received.  He felt that her influence, in his early years, would have worked wonders for him.  She straightened out his moral problems for him, taught him lessons in simple faith; and her own childish sweetness and absolute purity showed his whole world in a new light.

Sometimes they talked of religion and ethics, sometimes of science and economics, and particularly they talked of what was nearest to them,—­the mysteries and works of nature.  She had been a close observer of the forest.  She had received some glimpse of its secret laws that were, when all was said and done, the basic laws of life.  But for all her love of science she was not a mere biologist.  She had a full and devout faith in Law and Judgment beyond any earthly sphere.

“No one can live in this boundless wilderness and not believe,” she told him earnestly, her dark eyes brimming with her fervor.  “Perhaps I can’t tell you why—­maybe it’s just a feeling of need, of insufficiency of self.  Besides, God is close, like He was to the Israelites when they were in the wilderness; but you will remember that He never came close again.—­This forest is so big and so awful, He knows he must stay close to keep you from dying of fear.—­God may not be a reality to the people of the cities, where they see only buildings and streets, but Ben, He is to me.  You can’t forget Him up here.  He stands on every mountain, just as the sons of Aaron saw Him.”

He found, to his surprise, that she was not ill-read, particularly in the old-time classics.  But her environment had also influenced her choice of reading.  She loved the old legends in the minor,—­far-off and plaintive things that reflected the mood of the dusky forest in which she lived.