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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman from Outside, by Hulbert Footner
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Woman from Outside
+       [on Swan River]
+
+Author: Hulbert Footner
+
+Release Date: June 22, 2008 [EBook #25875]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Scott Olson, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: Obvious errors in the text have been corrected.
+Changes have also been made to make spelling, hyphenation, and
+punctuation use consistent. A full list of changes is at the end of the
+text.]
+
+
+
+
+  THE WOMAN
+  _from_ "OUTSIDE"
+  [On Swan River]
+
+  By
+  HULBERT FOOTNER
+  Author of "The Fur Bringers" etc.
+
+
+  THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY
+  _Publishers_     _New York_
+
+
+  Copyright, 1921 by
+  THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY
+  All Rights Reserved
+
+
+  PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                             PAGE
+
+      I THE WHITE MEDICINE MAN                                         1
+     II HOOLIAM                                                       15
+    III THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR                                        24
+     IV MORE ABOUT CLARE                                              35
+      V THE FIRST STAGE                                               46
+     VI THE KAKISAS                                                   59
+    VII ON THE RIVER                                                  68
+   VIII THE LOG SHACK                                                 83
+     IX THE FOOT                                                      96
+      X THE START HOME                                               111
+     XI THE MYSTERY                                                  129
+    XII IMBRIE                                                       139
+   XIII THE RESCUE                                                   154
+    XIV PURSUIT                                                      172
+     XV UPS AND DOWNS                                                192
+    XVI THE LAST STAGE ON SWAN RIVER                                 212
+   XVII THE HEARING                                                  243
+  XVIII A LETTER FROM MAJOR EGERTON TO HIS FRIEND ARTHUR
+        DONCOURT, ESQ.                                               256
+        EPILOGUE                                                     264
+
+
+
+
+THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE WHITE MEDICINE MAN
+
+
+On a January afternoon, as darkness was beginning to gather, the "gang"
+sat around the stove in the Company store at Fort Enterprise discussing
+that inexhaustible question, the probable arrival of the mail. The big
+lofty store, with its glass front, its electric lights, its stock of
+expensive goods set forth on varnished shelves, suggested a city
+emporium rather than the Company's most north-westerly post, nearly a
+thousand miles from civilization; but human energy accomplishes seeming
+miracles in the North as elsewhere, and John Gaviller the trader was
+above all an energetic man. Throughout the entire North they point with
+pride to Gaviller's flour mill, his big steamboat, his great yellow
+clap-boarded house--two storeys and attic, and a fence of palings around
+it! Why, at Fort Enterprise they even have a sidewalk, the only one
+north of fifty-five!
+
+"I don't see why Hairy Ben can't come down," said Doc Giddings--Doc was
+the grouch of the post--"the ice on the river has been fit for
+travelling for a month now."
+
+"Ben can't start from the Crossing until the mail comes through from
+the Landing," said Gaviller. "It can't start from the Landing until the
+ice is secure on the Big River, the Little River, and across Caribou
+Lake." Gaviller was a handsome man of middle life, who took exceeding
+good care of himself, and ruled his principality with an amiable
+relentlessness. They called him the "Czar," and it did not displease
+him.
+
+"Everybody knows Caribou Lake freezes over first," grumbled the doctor.
+
+"But the rivers down there are swift, and it's six hundred miles south
+of here. Give them time."
+
+"The trouble is, they wait until the horse-road is made over the ice
+before starting the mail in. If the Government had the enterprise of a
+ground-hog they'd send in dogs ahead."
+
+"Nobody uses dogs down there any more."
+
+"Well, I say 'tain't right to ask human beings to wait three months for
+their mail. Who knows what may have happened since the freeze-up last
+October?"
+
+"What's happened has happened," said Father Goussard mildly, "and
+knowing about it can't change it."
+
+The doctor ignored the proffered consolation. "What we need is a new
+mail-man," he went on bitterly. "I know Hairy Ben! I'll bet he's had the
+mail at the Crossing for a week, and puts off starting every day for
+fear of snow."
+
+"Well, 'tain't a job as I'd envy any man," put in Captain Stinson of the
+steamboat _Spirit River_, now hauled out on the shore. "Breaking a road
+for three hundred and fifty mile, and not a stopping-house the whole way
+till he gets to the Beaver Indians at Carcajou Point."
+
+The doctor addressed himself to the policeman, who was mending a
+snowshoe in the background. "Stonor, you've got the best dogs in the
+post; why don't you go up after him?"
+
+The young sergeant raised his head with a grin. He was a good-looking,
+long-limbed youth with a notable blue eye, and a glance of mirthful
+sobriety. "No, thanks," he drawled. The others gathered from his tone
+that a joke was coming, and pricked up their ears accordingly. "No,
+thanks. You forget that Sarge Lambert up at the Crossing is my senior.
+When I drove up he'd say: 'What the hell are you doing up here?' And
+when I told him he'd come back with his well-known embellishments of
+language: 'Has the R.N.W.M.P. nothing better to do than tote Doc
+Giddings' love-letters?'"
+
+A great laugh greeted this sally: they are so grateful for the smallest
+of jokes on winter afternoons up North.
+
+Doc Giddings subsided, but the discussion went on without him.
+
+"Well, he'll have easy going in from Carcajou; the Indians coming in and
+out have beaten a good trail."
+
+"Oh, when he gets to Carcajou he's here."
+
+"If it don't snow. That bit over the prairie drifts badly."
+
+"The barometer's falling."
+
+And so on. And so on. They made the small change of conversation go far.
+
+In the midst of it they were electrified by a shout from the land trail
+and the sound of bells.
+
+"Here he is!" they cried, jumping up to a man, and making for the door.
+
+Ben Causton, conscious of his importance, made a dramatic entrance with
+the mail-bags over his shoulder, and cast them magnificently on the
+counter. Even up north, where every man cultivates his own peculiarities
+unhindered, Ben was considered a "character." He was a short, thick man
+of enormous physical strength, and he sported a beard like a quickset
+hedge, hence his nickname. He was clad in an entire suit of fur like an
+Eskimo, with a gaudy red worsted sash about his ample middle.
+
+"Hello, Ben! Gee! but you're slow!"
+
+"Hello, fellows! Keep your hair on! If you want to send out for
+catalogues in the middle of winter you're lucky if I get here at all.
+Next month, if the second class bag's as heavy as this, I'll drop it
+through an air-hole--I swear I will! So now you're warned! I got somepin
+better to do than tote catalogues. When I die and go to hell, I only
+hope I meet the man who invented mail-order catalogues there, that's
+all."
+
+"You're getting feeble, Ben!"
+
+"I got strength enough left to put your head in chancery!"
+
+"What's the news of the world, Ben?"
+
+"Sarge Lambert's got a bone felon. Ally Stiff lost a sow and a whole
+litter through the ice up there. Mahooly of the French outfit at the
+Settlement's gone out to get him a set of chiny teeth. Says he's going
+to get blue ones to dazzle the Indians. Oh, and I almost forgot; down at
+Ottawa the Grits are out and the Tories in."
+
+"Bully!"
+
+"God help Canada!"
+
+While Gaviller unlocked the bags, Ben went out to tie up his dogs and
+feed them. The trader handed out letters to the eager, extended hands,
+that trembled a little. Brightening eyes pounced on the superscriptions.
+Gaviller himself had a daughter outside being "finished," the apple of
+his eye: Captain Stinson had a wife, and Mathews the engineer, an
+elderly sweetheart. The dark-skinned Gordon Strange, Gaviller's clerk,
+carried on an extensive correspondence, the purport of which was unknown
+to the others, and Father Goussard was happy in the receipt of many
+letters from his confrères. Even young Stonor was excited, who had no
+one in the world to write to him but a married sister who sent him
+long, dutiful chronicles of small beer. But it was from "home."
+
+The second-class bag with the papers was scarcely less exciting. To
+oblige Ben they only took one newspaper between them, and passed it
+around, but in this mail three months' numbers had accumulated. As the
+contents of the bag cascaded out on the counter, Stonor picked up an
+unfamiliar-looking magazine.
+
+"Hello, what's this?" he cried, reading the label in surprise. "Doctor
+Ernest Imbrie. Who the deuce is he?"
+
+"Must have come here by mistake," said Gaviller.
+
+"Not a bit of it! Here's the whole story: Doctor Ernest Imbrie, Fort
+Enterprise, Spirit River, Athabasca."
+
+It passed around from hand to hand. A new name was something to catch
+the attention at Fort Enterprise.
+
+"Why, here's another!" cried Gaviller in excitement. "And another! Blest
+if half the bag isn't for him! And all addressed just so!"
+
+They looked at each other a little blankly. All this evidence had the
+effect of creating an apparition there in their midst. There was an
+appreciable silence.
+
+"Must be somebody who started in last year and never got through," said
+Mathews. He spoke with an air of relief at discovering so reasonable an
+explanation.
+
+"But we hear about everybody who comes north of the Landing," objected
+Gaviller. "I would have been advised if he had a credit here."
+
+"Another doctor!" said Doc Giddings bitterly. "If he expects to share my
+practice he's welcome!"
+
+At another time they would have laughed at this, but the mystery teased
+them. They resented the fact that some rank outsider claimed Fort
+Enterprise for his post-office, without first having made himself
+known.
+
+"If he went back outside, he'd stop all this stuff coming in, you'd
+think."
+
+"Maybe somebody's just putting up a joke on us."
+
+"Funny kind of joke! Subscriptions to these magazines cost money."
+
+Stonor read off the titles of the magazines: "_The Medical Record_; _The
+American Medical Journal_; _The Physician's and Surgeon's Bulletin_."
+
+"Quite a scientific guy," said Doctor Giddings, with curling lip.
+
+"Strange, he gets so many papers and not a single letter!" remarked
+Father Goussard. "A friendless man!"
+
+Gaviller picked up a round tin, one of several packed and addressed
+alike. He read the business card of a well-known tobacconist. "Smoking
+tobacco!" he said indignantly. "If the Company's Dominion Mixture isn't
+good enough for any man I'd like to know it! He has a cheek, if you ask
+me, bringing in tobacco under my very nose!"
+
+"Tobacco!" cried Stonor. "It's all very well about papers, but no man
+would waste good tobacco! It must be somebody who started in before
+Ben!"
+
+Their own mail matter, that they had looked forward to so impatiently,
+was forgotten now.
+
+When Ben Causton came back they bombarded him with questions. But this
+bag had come through locked all the way from Miwasa Landing, and Ben,
+even Ben, the great purveyor of gossip in the North, had heard nothing
+of any Doctor Imbrie on his way in. Ben was more excited and more
+indignant than any of them. Somebody had got ahead of him in spreading a
+sensation!
+
+"It's a hoe-axe," said Ben. "It's them fellows down at the Landing
+trying to get a rise out of me. Or if it ain't that, it's some guy
+comin' in next spring, and sendin' in his outfit piecemeal ahead of him.
+And me powerless to protect myself! Ain't that an outrage! But when I
+meet him on the trail I'll put it to him!"
+
+"There are newspapers here, too," Stonor pointed out. "No man coming in
+next spring would send himself last year's papers."
+
+"Where is he, then?" they asked.
+
+The question was unanswerable.
+
+"Well, I'd like to see any lily-handed doctor guy from the outside face
+the river trail in the winter," said Ben bitterly. "If he'll do that,
+I'll carry his outfit for him. But he'll need more than his diploma to
+fit him for it."
+
+At any rate they had a brand-new subject for conversation at the post.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+About a week later, when Hairy Ben had started back up the river, the
+routine at the post was broken by the arrival of a small party of Kakisa
+Indians from the Kakisa or Swan River, a large unexplored stream off to
+the north-west. The Kakisas, an uncivilized and shy race, rarely
+appeared at Enterprise, and in order to get their trade Gaviller had
+formerly sent out a half-breed clerk to the Swan River every winter. But
+this man had lately died, and now the trade threatened to lapse for the
+lack of an interpreter. None of the Kakisas could speak English, and
+there was no company employee who could speak their uncouth tongue
+except Gordon Strange the bookkeeper, who could not be spared from the
+post.
+
+Wherefore Gaviller welcomed these six, in the hope that they might prove
+to be the vanguard of the main body. They were a wild and ragged lot,
+under the leadership of a withered elder called Mahtsonza. They were
+discovered by accident camping under cover of a poplar bluff across the
+river. No one knew how long they had been there, and Gordon Strange had
+a time persuading them to come the rest of the way. It was dusk when
+they entered the store, and Gaviller, by pre-arrangement with Mathews,
+clapped his hands and the electric lights went on. The effect surpassed
+his expectations. The Kakisas, with a gasp of terror, fled, and could
+not be tempted to return until daylight.
+
+They brought a good little bundle of fur, including two silver fox
+skins, the finest seen at Enterprise that season. They laid their fur on
+the counter, and sidled about the store silent and abashed, like
+children in a strange house. With perfectly wooden faces they took in
+all the wonders out of the corners of their eyes; the scales, the stove,
+the pictures on the canned goods, the show-cases of jewellery and candy.
+Candy they recognized, and, again like children, they discussed the
+respective merits of the different varieties in their own tongue.
+Gaviller, warned by his first mistake, affected to take no notice of
+them.
+
+The Kakisas had been in the store above an hour when Mahtsonza, without
+warning, produced a note from the inner folds of his dingy capote, and,
+handling it gingerly between thumb and forefinger, silently offered it
+to Gaviller. The trader's eyes almost started out of his head.
+
+"A letter!" he cried stupidly. "Where the hell did you get that?--Boys!
+Look here! A note from Swan River! Who in thunder at Swan River can
+write a white man's hand?"
+
+Stonor, Doc Giddings, Strange, and Mathews, who were in the store,
+hastened to him.
+
+"Who's it addressed to?" asked the policeman.
+
+"Just to the Company. Whoever wrote it didn't have the politeness to put
+my name down."
+
+"Maybe he doesn't know you."
+
+"How could that be?" asked Gaviller, with raised eyebrows.
+
+"Open it! Open it!" said Doc Giddings irritably.
+
+Gaviller did so, and his face expressed a still greater degree of
+astonishment. "Ha! Here's our man!" he cried.
+
+"Imbrie!" they exclaimed in unison.
+
+"Listen!" He read from the note.
+
+    "GENTLEMEN--I am sending you two silver fox skins, for which
+    please give me credit. I enclose an order for supplies, to be
+    sent by bearer. Also be good enough to hand the bearer any mail
+    matter which may be waiting for me.
+
+                         "Yours truly,
+                                   "ERNEST IMBRIE."
+
+The silence of stupefaction descended on them. The only gateway to the
+Swan River lay through Enterprise. How could a man have got there
+without their knowing it? Stupefaction was succeeded by resentment.
+
+"Will I be good enough to hand over his mail?" sneered Gaviller. "What
+kind of elegant language is this from Swan River?"
+
+"Sounds like a regular Percy," said Strange, who always echoed his
+chief.
+
+"Funny place for a Percy to set up," said Stonor drily.
+
+"He orders flour, sugar, beans, rice, coffee, tea, baking-powder, salt,
+and dried fruit," said Gaviller, as if that were a fresh cause of
+offence.
+
+"He has an appetite, then," said Stonor, "he's no ghost."
+
+Suddenly they fell upon Mahtsonza with a bombardment of questions,
+forgetting that the Indian could speak no English. He shrank back
+affrighted.
+
+"Wait a minute," said Strange. "Let me talk to him."
+
+He conferred for awhile with Mahtsonza in the strange, clicking tongue
+of the Kakisas. Gaviller soon became impatient.
+
+"Tell us as he goes along," he said. "Never mind waiting for the end of
+the story."
+
+"They can't tell you anything directly," said Strange deprecatingly;
+"there's nothing to do but let them tell a story in their own way. He's
+telling me now that Etzooah, a man with much hair, who hunts down the
+Swan River near the beginning of the swift water, came up to the village
+at the end of the horse-track on snowshoes and dragging a little sled.
+Etzooah had the letter for Gaviller, but he was tired out, so he handed
+it to Mahtsonza, who had dogs, to bring it the rest of the way, and gave
+Mahtsonza a mink-skin for his trouble."
+
+"Never mind all that," said Gaviller impatiently. "What about the white
+man?"
+
+Strange conferred again with Mahtsonza, while Gaviller bit his nails.
+
+"Mahtsonza says," he reported, "that Imbrie is a great White Medicine
+Man who has done honour to the Kakisa people by coming among them to
+heal the sick and do good. Mahtsonza says he has not seen Imbrie
+himself, because when he came among the Indians last fall Mahtsonza was
+off hunting on the upper Swan, but all the people talk about him and
+what strong medicine he makes."
+
+"Conjure tricks!" muttered Doc Giddings.
+
+"Where does he live?" demanded Gaviller.
+
+Strange asked the question and reported the answer. "He has built
+himself a shack beside the Great Falls of the Swan River. Mahtsonza says
+that the people know his medicine is strong because he is not afraid to
+live with the voice of the Great Falls."
+
+Stonor asked the next question. "What sort of man is he?"
+
+Strange, after putting the question, said: "Mahtsonza says he's very
+good-looking, or, as he puts it, a pretty man. He says he looks young,
+but he may be as old as the world, because with such strong medicine he
+could make himself look like anything he wanted. He says that the White
+Medicine Man talks much with dried words in covers--I suppose he means
+books."
+
+"Ask him what proof he has given them that his medicine is strong,"
+suggested Stonor.
+
+Strange translated Mahtsonza's answer as follows: "Last year when the
+bush berries were ripe (that's August) all the Indians down the river
+got sick. Water came out of their eyes and nose; their skin got as red
+as sumach and burned like fire."
+
+"Measles," said Gaviller. "The Beavers had it, too. They take it hard."
+
+Strange continued: "Mahtsonza says many of them died. They just lay down
+and gave up hope. Etzooah was the only Kakisa who had seen the White
+Medicine Man up to that time, and he went to him and asked him to make
+medicine to cure the sick. So the White Medicine Man came back with
+Etzooah to the village down the river. He had good words and a soft hand
+to the sick. He made medicine, and, behold! the sick arose and were
+well!"
+
+"Faith cure!" muttered Doc Giddings.
+
+"How long has Imbrie been down there by the Falls?" asked Gaviller.
+
+"Mahtsonza says he came last summer when the ground berries were ripe.
+That would be about July."
+
+"Did he come down the river from the mountains?"
+
+"Mahtsonza says no. Nobody on the river saw him go down."
+
+"Where did he come from, then?"
+
+"Mahtsonza says he doesn't know. Nobody knows. Some say he came from
+under the falls where the white bones lie. Some say it is the voice of
+the falls that comes among men in the shape of a man."
+
+"Rubbish! A ghost doesn't subscribe to medical journals!" said Doc
+Giddings.
+
+"He orders flour, sugar, beans," said Gaviller.
+
+When this was explained to Mahtsonza the Indian shrugged. Strange said:
+"Mahtsonza says if he takes a man's shape he's got to feed it."
+
+"Pshaw!" said Gaviller impatiently. "He must have come up the river. It
+is known that the Swan River empties into Great Buffalo Lake. The Lake
+can't be more than a hundred miles below the falls. No white man has
+ever been through that way, but somebody's got to be the first."
+
+"But we know every white man who ever went down to Great Buffalo Lake,"
+said Doc Giddings. "Certainly there never was a doctor there except the
+police doctor who makes the round with the treaty outfit every summer."
+
+"Well, it's got me beat!" said Gaviller, scratching his head.
+
+"Maybe it's someone wanted by the police outside," suggested Gordon
+Strange, "who managed to sneak into the country without attracting
+notice."
+
+"He's picked out a bad place to hide," said Stonor grimly. "He'll be
+well advertised up here."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor had a room in the "quarters," a long, low barrack of logs on the
+side of the quadrangle facing the river. It had been the trader's
+residence before the days of the big clap-boarded villa. Stonor, tiring
+of the conversation around the stove, frequently spent the evenings in
+front of his own fire, and here he sometimes had a visitor, to wit, Tole
+Grampierre, youngest son of Simon, the French half-breed farmer up the
+river. Tole came of good, self-respecting native stock, and was in his
+own person a comely, sensible youngster a few years younger than the
+trooper. Tole was the nearest thing to a young friend that Stonor
+possessed in the post. They were both young enough to have some
+illusions left. They talked of things they would have blushed to expose
+to the cynicism of the older men.
+
+Stonor sat in his barrel chair that he had made himself, and Tole sat on
+the floor nursing his knees. Both were smoking Dominion mixture.
+
+Said Tole: "Stonor, what you make of this Swan River mystery?"
+
+"Oh, anything can be a mystery until you learn the answer. I don't see
+why a man shouldn't settle out on Swan River if he has a mind to."
+
+"Why do all the white men talk against him?"
+
+"Don't ask me. I doubt if they could tell you themselves. When men talk
+in a crowd they get started on a certain line and go on from bad to
+worse without thinking what they mean by it."
+
+"Our people just the same that way, I guess," said Tole.
+
+"I'm no better," said Stonor. "I don't know how it is, but fellows in a
+crowd seem to be obliged to talk more foolishly than they think in
+private."
+
+"You don't talk against him, Stonor."
+
+The policeman laughed. "No, I stick up for him. It gets the others
+going. As a matter of fact, I'd like to know this Imbrie. For one thing,
+he's young like ourselves, Tole. And he must be a decent sort, to cure
+the Indians, and all that. They're a filthy lot, what we've seen of
+them."
+
+"Gaviller says he's going to send an outfit next spring to rout him out
+of his hole. Gaviller says he's a cash trader."
+
+Stonor chuckled. "Gaviller hates a cash trader worse than a devil with
+horns. It's nonsense anyway. What would the Kakisas do with cash? This
+talk of sending in an expedition will all blow over before spring."
+
+"Stonor, what for do you think he lives like that by himself?"
+
+"I don't know. Some yarn behind it, I suppose. Very likely a woman at
+the bottom of it. He's young. Young men do foolish things. Perhaps he'd
+be thankful for a friend now."
+
+"White men got funny ideas about women, I think."
+
+"I suppose it seems so. But where did you get that idea?"
+
+"Not from the talk at the store. I have read books. Love-stories.
+Pringle the missionary lend me a book call _Family Herald_ with many
+love-stories in it. From that I see that white men always go crazy about
+women."
+
+Stonor laughed aloud.
+
+"Stonor, were you ever real crazy about a woman?"
+
+The trooper shook his head--almost regretfully, one might have said.
+"The right one never came my way, Tole."
+
+"You don't like the girls around here."
+
+"Yes, I do. Nice girls. Pretty, too. But well, you see, they're not the
+same colour as me."
+
+"Just the same, they are crazy about you."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"Yes, they are. Call you 'Gold-piece.' Us fellows got no chance if you
+want them."
+
+"Tell me about the stories you read, Tole."
+
+Tole refused to be diverted from his subject. "Stonor, I think you would
+like to be real crazy about a woman."
+
+"Maybe," said the other dreamily. "Perhaps life would seem less empty
+then."
+
+"Would you go bury yourself among the Indians for a woman?"
+
+"I hardly think so," said Stonor, smiling. "Though you never can tell
+what you might do. But if I got turned down, I suppose I'd want to be as
+busy as possible to help forget it."
+
+"Well, I think that Imbrie is crazy for sure."
+
+"It takes all kinds to make a world. If I can get permission I'm going
+out to see him next summer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+HOOLIAM
+
+
+When the spring days came around, Stonor, whose business it was to keep
+watch on such things, began to perceive an undercurrent of waywardness
+among the Indians and breeds of the post. Teachers know how an epidemic
+of naughtiness will sweep a class; this was much the same thing. There
+was no actual outbreak; it was chiefly evinced in defiant looks and an
+impudent swagger. It was difficult to trace back, for the red people
+hang together solidly; a man with even a trace of red blood will rarely
+admit a white man into the secrets of the race. Under questioning they
+maintain a bland front that it is almost impossible to break down.
+Stonor had long ago learned the folly of trying to get at what he wanted
+by direct questioning.
+
+He finally, as he thought, succeeded in locating the source of the
+infection at Carcajou Point. Parties from the post rode up there with
+suspicious frequency, and came back with a noticeably lowered moral
+tone, licking their lips, so to speak. All the signs pointed to whisky.
+
+At dawn of a morning in May, Stonor, without having advertised his
+intention, set off for Carcajou on horseback. The land trail cut across
+a wide sweep of the river, and on horseback one could make it in a day,
+whereas it was a three days' paddle up-stream. Unfortunately he couldn't
+take them by surprise, for Carcajou was on the other side of the river
+from Enterprise, and Stonor must wait on the shore until they came over
+after him.
+
+As soon as he left the buildings of the post behind him Stonor's heart
+was greatly lifted up. It was his first long ride of the season. The
+trail led him through the poplar bush back to the bench, thence in a
+bee-line across the prairie. The sun rose as he climbed the bench. The
+prairie was not the "bald-headed" so dear to those who know it, but was
+diversified with poplar bluffs, clumps of willow, and wild-rose-scrub in
+the hollows. The crocuses were in bloom, the poplar trees hanging out
+millions of emerald pendants, and the sky showed that exquisite, tender
+luminousness that only the northern sky knows when the sun travels
+towards the north. Only singing-birds were lacking to complete the idyl
+of spring. Stonor, all alone in a beautiful world, lifted up his voice
+to supply the missing praise.
+
+Towards sunset he approached the shore of the river opposite Carcajou
+Point, but as he didn't wish to arrive at night, he camped within
+shelter of the woods. In the morning he signalled for a boat. They came
+after him in a dug-out, and he swam his horse across.
+
+A preliminary survey of the place revealed nothing out of the way. The
+people who called themselves Beaver Indians were in reality the
+scourings of half the tribes in the country, and it is doubtful if there
+was an individual of pure red race among them. Physically they were a
+sad lot, for Nature revenges herself swiftly on the offspring of
+hybrids. Quaint ethnological differences were exhibited in the same
+family; one brother would have a French physiognomy, another a Scottish
+cast of feature, and a third the thick lips and flattened nose of a
+negro. Their village was no less nondescript than its inhabitants,
+merely a straggling row of shacks, thrown together anyhow, and roofed
+with sods, now putting forth a brave growth of weeds. These houses were
+intended for a winter residence only. In summer they "pitched around."
+At present they were putting their dug-outs and canoes in order for a
+migration.
+
+Stonor was received on the beach by Shose (Joseph) Cardinal, a fine,
+up-standing ancient of better physique than his sons and grandsons. In a
+community of hairless men he was further distinguished by a straggling
+grey beard. His wits were beginning to fail, but not yet his cunning. He
+was extremely anxious to learn the reason for the policeman's coming.
+For Stonor to tell him would have been to defeat his object; to lie
+would have been to lower himself in their eyes; so Stonor took refuge in
+an inscrutability as polite as the old man's own.
+
+Stonor made a house-to-house canvass of the village, inquiring as to the
+health and well-being of each household, as is the custom of his
+service, and keeping his eyes open on his own account. He satisfied
+himself that if there had been whisky there, it was drunk up by now.
+Some of the men showed the sullen depressed air that follows on a
+prolonged spree, but all were sober at present.
+
+He was in one of the last houses of the village, when, out of the tail
+of his eye, he saw a man quietly issue from the house next in order,
+and, covered by the crowd around the door, make his way back to a house
+already visited. Stonor, without saying anything, went back to that
+house and found himself face to face with a young white man, a stranger,
+who greeted him with an insolent grin.
+
+"Who are you?" demanded the policeman.
+
+"Hooliam."
+
+"You have a white man's name. What is it?"
+
+"Smith"--this with inimitable insolence, and a look around that bid for
+the applause of the natives.
+
+Stonor's lip curled at the spectacle of a white man's thus lowering
+himself. "Come outside," he said sternly. "I want to talk to you."
+
+He led the way to a place apart on the river bank, and the other, not
+daring to defy him openly, followed with a swagger. With a stern glance
+Stonor kept the tatterdemalion crowd at bay. Stonor coolly surveyed his
+man in the sunlight and saw that he was not white, as he had supposed,
+but a quarter or eighth breed. He was an uncommonly good-looking young
+fellow in the hey-day of his youth, say, twenty-six. With his clear
+olive skin, straight features and curly dark hair he looked not so much
+like a breed as a man of one of the darker peoples of the Caucasian
+race, an Italian or a Greek. There was a falcon-like quality in the
+poise of his head, in his gaze, but the effect was marred by the
+consciousness of evil, the irreconcilable look in the fine eyes.
+
+"Bad clear through!" was Stonor's instinctive verdict.
+
+"Where did you come from?" he demanded.
+
+"Up river," was the casual reply. The man's English was as good as
+Stonor's own.
+
+"Answer me fully."
+
+"From Sah-ko-da-tah prairie, if you know where that is. I came into that
+country by way of Grande Prairie. I came from Winnipeg."
+
+Stonor didn't believe a word of this, but had no means of confuting the
+man on the spot. "How long have you been here?" he asked.
+
+"A week or so. I didn't keep track."
+
+"What is your business here?"
+
+"I'm looking for a job."
+
+"Among the Beavers? Why didn't you come to the trading-post?"
+
+"I was coming, but they tell me John Gaviller's a hard man to work fer.
+Thought I better keep clear of him."
+
+"Gaviller's the only employer of labour hereabouts. If you don't like
+him you'll have to look elsewhere."
+
+"I can take up land, can't I?"
+
+"Not here. This is treaty land. Plenty of good surveyed homesteads
+around the post."
+
+"Thanks. I prefer to pick my own location."
+
+"I'll give you your choice. You can either come down to the post where I
+can keep an eye on your doings, or go back up the river where you came
+from."
+
+"Do you call this a free country?"
+
+"Never mind that. You're getting off easy. If you'd rather, I'll put you
+under arrest and carry you down to the post for trial."
+
+"On what charge?"
+
+"Furnishing whisky to the Indians."
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the man, hoping to provoke Stonor into revealing the
+extent of his information.
+
+But the policeman shrugged, and remained mum.
+
+The other suddenly changed his front. "All right, I'll go if I have to,"
+he said, with a conciliatory air. "To-morrow."
+
+"You'll leave within an hour," said Stonor, consulting his watch. "I'll
+see you off. Better get your things together."
+
+The man still lingered, and Stonor saw an unspoken question in his eye,
+a desire to ingratiate himself. Now Stonor, under his stern port as an
+officer of the law, was intensely curious about the fellow. With his
+good looks, his impudent assurance, his command of English, he was a
+notable figure in that remote district. The policeman permitted himself
+to unbend a little.
+
+"What are you travelling in?" he asked.
+
+"Dug-out." Encouraged by the policeman's altered manner, the self-styled
+Hooliam went on, with an air of taking Stonor into his confidence:
+"These niggers here are a funny lot, aren't they? Still believe in
+magic."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Why, they're always talking about a White Medicine Man who lives beside
+a river off to the north-west. Ernest Imbrie they call him. Do you know
+him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"He's been to the post, hasn't he?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, how did he get into the country?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"These people say he works magic."
+
+"Well, if anyone wants to believe that--!"
+
+"What do they say about him down at the post?"
+
+"Plenty of foolishness."
+
+"But what?"
+
+"You don't expect me to repeat foolish gossip, do you?"
+
+"No, but what do you think about him?"
+
+"I don't think."
+
+"They say that Gaviller's lodged a complaint against him, and you're
+going out there to arrest him as soon as it's fit to travel."
+
+"That's a lie. There's no complaint against the man."
+
+"But you are going out there, aren't you?"
+
+"I can't discuss my movements with you."
+
+"That means you are going. Is it true he sent in a whole bale of silver
+foxes to the post?"
+
+"Say, what's your interest in this man, anyway?" said Stonor, losing
+patience.
+
+"Nothing at all," said the breed carelessly. "These Indians are always
+talking about him. It roused my curiosity, that's all."
+
+"Suppose you satisfy my curiosity about yourself," suggested Stonor
+meaningly.
+
+The old light of impudent mockery returned to the comely dark face. "Me?
+Oh, I'm only a no-account hobo," he said. "I'll have to be getting ready
+now."
+
+And so Stonor's curiosity remained unsatisfied. To have questioned the
+man further would only have been to lower his dignity. True, he might
+have arrested him, and forced him to give an account of himself, but the
+processes of justice are difficult and expensive so far north, and the
+policemen are instructed not to make arrests except when unavoidable. At
+the moment it did not occur to Stonor but that the man's questions about
+Imbrie were actuated by an idle curiosity.
+
+When the hour was up, the entire population of Carcajou Point gathered
+on the shore to witness Hooliam's departure. Stonor was there, too, of
+course, standing grimly apart from the rabble. Of what they thought of
+this summary deportation he could not be sure, but he suspected that if
+the whisky were all gone, they would not care much one way or the other.
+Hooliam was throwing his belongings in a dug-out of a different style
+from that used by the Beavers. It was ornamented with a curved prow and
+stern, such as Stonor had not before seen.
+
+"Where did you get that boat?" he asked.
+
+"I didn't steal it," answered Hooliam impudently. "Traded my horse for
+it and some grub at Fort Cardigan."
+
+Cardigan was a Company post on the Spirit a hundred miles or so above
+the Crossing. Stonor saw that Hooliam was well provided with blankets,
+grub, ammunition, etc., and that it was not Company goods.
+
+When Hooliam was ready to embark, he addressed the crowd in an Indian
+tongue which strongly resembled Beaver, which Stonor spoke, but had
+different inflections. Freely translated, his words were:
+
+"I go, men. The moose-berry (_i. e._, red-coat) wills it. I don't like
+moose-berries. Little juice and much stone. To eat moose-berries draws a
+man's mouth up like a tobacco-bag when the string is pulled."
+
+They laughed, with deprecatory side-glances at the policeman. They were
+not aware that he spoke their tongue. Stonor had no intention of letting
+them know it, and kept an inscrutable face. They pushed off the dug-out,
+and Hooliam, with a derisive wave of the hand, headed up river. All
+remained on the shore, and Stonor, seeing that they expected something
+more of Hooliam, remained also.
+
+He had gone about a third of a mile when Stonor saw him bring the
+dug-out around and ground her on the beach. He made no move to get out,
+but a woman appeared from out of the shrubbery and got in. She was too
+far away for Stonor to distinguish anything of her features; her figure
+looked matronly.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked sharply.
+
+Several voices answered. "Hooliam's woman. Hooliam got old woman for his
+woman"--with scornful laughter. Now that Hooliam was gone, they were
+prepared to curry favour with the policeman.
+
+Stonor was careful not to show the uneasiness he felt. This was his
+first intimation that Hooliam had a companion. He considered following
+him in another dug-out, but finally decided against it. The fact that he
+had taken the woman aboard in plain sight smacked merely of bravado. A
+long experience of the red race had taught Stonor that they love to
+shroud their movements in mystery from the whites, and that in their
+most mysterious acts there is not necessarily any significance.
+
+Hooliam, with a wave of his paddle, resumed his journey, and presently
+disappeared around a bend. Stonor turned on his heel and left the beach,
+followed by the people. They awaited his next move somewhat
+apprehensively, displaying an anxiety to please which suggested bad
+consciences. Stonor, however, contented himself with offering some
+private admonitions to Shose Cardinal, who seemed to take them in good
+part. He then prepared to return to the post. The people speeded his
+departure with relieved faces.
+
+That night Stonor camped on the prairie half-way home. As he lay wooing
+sleep under the stars, his horse cropping companionably near by, a new
+thought caused him to sit up suddenly in his blankets.
+
+"He mentioned the name Ernest Imbrie. The Indians never call him
+anything but the White Medicine Man. And even if they had picked up the
+name Imbrie at the post, they never speak of a man by his Christian
+name. If they had heard the name Ernest I doubt if they could pronounce
+it. Sounds as if he knew the name beforehand. Queer if there should be
+any connection there. I wish I hadn't let him go so easily.--Oh, well,
+it's too late to worry about it now. The steamboat will get to the
+Crossing before he does. I'll drop a line to Lambert to keep an eye on
+him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR
+
+
+At Fort Enterprise a busy time followed. The big steamboat ("big" of
+course only for lack of anything bigger than a launch to compare with)
+had to be put in the water and outfitted, and the season's catch of fur
+inventoried, baled and put aboard. By Victoria Day all was ready. They
+took the day off to celebrate with games and oratory (chiefly for the
+benefit of the helpless natives) followed by a big bonfire and dance at
+Simon Grampierre's up the river.
+
+Next morning the steamboat departed up-stream, taking Captain Stinson,
+Mathews, and most of the native employees of the post in her crew. Doc
+Giddings and Stonor watched her go, each with a little pain at the
+breast; she was bound towards the great busy world, world of infinite
+delight, of white women, lights, music, laughter and delicate feasting;
+in short, to them the world of romance. They envied the very bales of
+fur aboard that were bound for the world's great market-places. On the
+other hand, John Gaviller watched the steamboat go with high
+satisfaction. To him she represented Profit. He never knew homesickness,
+because he was at home. For him the world revolved around Fort
+Enterprise. As for Gordon Strange, the remaining member of the quartette
+who watched her go, no one ever really knew what he thought.
+
+The days that followed were the dullest in the whole year. The natives
+had departed for their summer camps, and there was no one left around
+the post but the few breed farmers. To Stonor, who was twenty-seven
+years old, these days were filled with a strange unrest; for the coming
+of summer with its universal blossoming was answered by a surge in his
+own youthful blood--and he had no safety-valve. A healthy instinct urged
+him to a ceaseless activity; he made a garden behind his quarters; he
+built a canoe (none of your clumsy dug-outs, but a well-turned
+Peterboro' model sheathed with bass-wood); he broke the colts of the
+year. Each day he tired himself out and knew no satisfaction in his
+work, and each morning he faced the shining world with a kind of groan.
+Just now he had not even Tole Grampierre to talk to, for Tole, following
+the universal law, was sitting up with Berta Thomas.
+
+The steamboat's itinerary took her first to Spirit River Crossing, the
+point of departure for "outside" where she discharged her fur and took
+on supplies for the posts further up-stream. Proceeding up to Cardigan
+and Fort Cheever, she got their fur and brought it back to the Crossing.
+Then, putting on supplies for Fort Enterprise, she hustled down home
+with the current. It took her twelve days to mount the stream and six to
+return. Gaviller was immensely proud of the fact that she was the only
+thing in the North that ran on a pre-arranged schedule. He even sent out
+a timetable to the city for the benefit of intending tourists. She was
+due back at Enterprise on June 15th.
+
+When the morning of that day broke a delightful excitement filled the
+breasts of those left at the post. As in most Company establishments, on
+the most prominent point of the river-bank stood a tall flagstaff, with
+a little brass cannon at its foot. The flag was run up and the cannon
+loaded, and every five minutes during the day some one would be running
+out to gaze up the river. Only Gaviller affected to be calm.
+
+"You're wasting your time," he would say. "Stinson tied up at Tar Island
+last night. If he comes right down he'll be here at three forty-five;
+and if he has to land at Carcajou for wood it will be near supper-time."
+
+The coming of the steamboat always held the potentialities of a dramatic
+surprise, for they had no telegraph to warn them of whom or what she was
+bringing. This year they expected quite a crowd. In addition to their
+regular visitors, Duncan Seton, the Company inspector, and Bishop
+Trudeau on his rounds, the government was sending in a party of
+surveyors to lay off homesteads across the river, and Mr. Pringle, the
+Episcopal missionary, was returning to resume his duties. An added spice
+of anticipation was lent by the fact that the latter was expected to
+bring his sister to keep house for him. There had been no white woman at
+Fort Enterprise since the death of Mrs. Gaviller many years before. But,
+as Miss Pringle was known to be forty years old, the excitement on her
+account was not undue. Her mark would be Gaviller, the younger men said,
+affecting not to notice the trader's annoyance.
+
+Gaviller had put a big boat's whistle on his darling _Spirit River_, and
+the mellow boom of it brought them on a run out of the store before she
+hove in sight around the islands in front of Grampierre's. Gaviller had
+his binoculars. He could no longer keep up his pretence of calmness.
+
+"Three twenty-eight!" he cried, excitedly. "Didn't I tell you! Who says
+we can't keep time up here! She'll run her plank ashore at three
+forty-five to the dot!"
+
+"There she is!" they cried, as she poked her nose around the islands.
+
+"Good old tub!"
+
+"By God! she's a pretty sight--white as a swan!"
+
+"And floats like one!"
+
+"Some class to that craft, sir!"
+
+Meanwhile Gaviller was nervously focussing his binoculars. "By Golly!
+there's a big crowd on deck!" he cried. "Must be ten or twelve beside
+the crew!"
+
+"Can you see the petticoat?" asked Doc Giddings. "Gee! I hope she can
+cook!"
+
+"Wait a minute! Yes--there she is!--Hello! By God, boys, there's two of
+them!"
+
+"Two!"
+
+"Go on, you're stringing us!"
+
+"The other must be a breed."
+
+"No, sir, she's got a white woman's hat on, a stylish hat. And now I can
+see her white face!"
+
+"John, for the lova Mike let me look!"
+
+But the trader held him off obdurately. "I believe she's young. She's a
+little woman beside the other. I believe she's good-looking! All the men
+are crowding around her."
+
+Stonor's heart set up an unaccountable beating. "Ah, it'll be the wife
+of one of the surveyors," he said, with the instinct of guarding against
+a disappointment.
+
+"No, sir! If her husband was aboard the other men wouldn't be crowding
+around like that."
+
+"No single woman under forty would dare venture up here. She'd be
+mobbed."
+
+"Might be a pleasant sort of experience for her."
+
+Doc Giddings had at last secured possession of the glasses. "She _is_
+good-looking!" he cried. "Glory be, she's a peach! I can see her smile!"
+
+The boat was soon close enough for the binoculars to be dispensed with.
+To Stonor the whole picture was blurred, save for the one slender,
+fragile figure clad in the well-considered dress of a lady, perfect in
+detail. Of her features he was aware at first only of a beaming, wistful
+smile that plucked at his heartstrings with a strange sharpness. Even at
+that distance she gave out something that changed him for ever, and he
+knew it. He gazed, entirely self-forgetful, with rapt eyes and parted
+lips that would have caused the other men to shout with laughter--had
+they not been gazing, too. The man who dwells in a world full of
+charming women never knows what they may mean to a man. Let him be
+exiled, and he'll find out. In that moment the smouldering uneasiness
+which had made Stonor a burden to himself of late burst into flame, and
+he knew what was the matter. He beheld his desire.
+
+As the steamboat swept by below them, Stonor automatically dipped the
+flag, and Gaviller touched off the old muzzle-loader, which vented a
+magnificent roar for its size. The whistle replied. The _Spirit River_
+waltzed gracefully around in the stream, and, coming back against the
+current, pushed her nose softly into the mud of the strand. They ran
+down to meet her. Hawsers were passed ashore and made fast, and the
+plank run out.
+
+Gaviller and the others went aboard, and first greetings were exchanged
+on the forward deck of the steamboat. Stonor, afflicted with a sudden
+diffidence, hung in the background. He wished to approach her by
+degrees. Meanwhile he was taking her in. He scarcely dared look at her
+directly, but his gaze thirstily drank in her outlying details, so to
+speak. Her small, well-shod feet were marvellous to him; likewise her
+exquisite silken ankles. He observed that she walked with stiff, short,
+delicate steps, like a high-bred filly. He was enchanted with the
+slight, graceful gesticulation of her gloved hand. When he finally
+brought himself to look at her eyes he was not disappointed; deep blue
+were they, steady, benignant, and of a heart-disquieting wistfulness.
+Other items, by the way, were a little straight nose, absurd and
+lovable, and lips fresh and bright as a child's. All the men were
+standing about her with deferential bared heads, and the finest thing
+(in Stonor's mind) was that she displayed no self-consciousness in this
+trying situation; none of the cooings, the gurglings, the flirtatious
+flutterings that bring the sex into disrepute. Her back was as straight
+as a plucky boy's and her chin up like the same.
+
+When Stonor saw that his turn was approaching to be introduced, he was
+seized outright with panic. He slipped inside the vessel and made his
+way back to where the engineer was wiping his rods. He greeted Mathews
+with a solicitude that surprised the dour Scotchman. He stood there
+making conversation until he heard everybody in the bow go ashore.
+Afterwards he was seized with fresh panic upon realizing that delaying
+the inevitable introduction could not but have the effect of singling
+him out and making him more conspicuous when it came about.
+
+John Gaviller carried Miss Pringle and the charming unknown up to the
+clap-boarded villa until the humble shack attached to the English
+mission could be made fit to receive them. Stonor went for a long walk
+to cool his fevered blood. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself. By
+his timidity, not to use a stronger word, he had lost precious hours;
+indeed, now that he had missed his first opportunity, he might be
+overlooked altogether. The other men would not be likely to help him out
+at all. A cold chill struck to his breast at the thought. He resolved to
+march right up to the guns of her eyes on his return. But he made a
+score of conflicting resolutions in the course of his walk. Meanwhile he
+didn't yet know whether she were Miss or Mrs., or what was her errand at
+Fort Enterprise. True, he could have gone back and asked any of the men
+who came on the boat, but nothing in the world could have induced him to
+speak of her to anyone just then.
+
+When he got back, it was to find the post in a fever of preparation.
+John Gaviller had asked every white man to his house to dinner to meet
+the ladies. It was to be a real "outside" dinner party, and there was a
+sudden, frantic demand for collars, cravats and presentable foot-wear.
+Nobody at the post had a dress-suit but Gaviller himself.
+
+Of them all only Stonor had no sartorial problems; his new uniform and
+his Strathcona boots polished according to regulations were all he had
+and all he needed. He surveyed the finished product in his little mirror
+with strong dissatisfaction. "Ornery-looking cuss," he thought. But a
+man is no judge of his own looks. A disinterested observer might have
+given a different verdict. A young man less well favoured by nature
+would have gazed at Stonor's long-limbed ease with helpless envy. He had
+that rare type of figure that never becomes encumbered with fat. The
+grace of youth and the strength of maturity met there. He would make a
+pattern colonel if he lived. Under the simple lines of his uniform one
+apprehended the ripple and play of unclogged muscles. If all men were
+like Stonor the tailor's task would be a sinecure.
+
+As to his face, mention has already been made of the sober gaze
+lightened by a suggestion of sly mirthfulness. In a company where
+sprightliness was the great desideratum, Stonor, no doubt, would have
+been considered slow. Men with strong reserves are necessarily a little
+slow in coming into action; they are apt, too, as a decent cover for
+their feelings, to affect more slowness than they feel. A woman can
+rarely look at that kind of man without feeling a secret desire to rouse
+him; there is so clearly something to rouse. It was Stonor's hair which
+had given rise to the quaint name the native maidens had applied to him,
+the "Gold-piece." It was not yellow hair, as we call it, but a shiny
+light brown, and under the savage attack of his brushes the shine was
+accentuated.
+
+The guests were received in the drawing-room of Enterprise House, which
+was rarely opened nowadays. It had a charming air of slightly
+old-fashioned gentility, just as its dead mistress had left it, and the
+rough Northerners came in with an abashed air. John Gaviller,
+resplendent in the dress-suit, stood by the piano, with the little lady
+on one hand and the large lady on the other, and one after another the
+men marched up and made their obeisances. The actual introduction proved
+to be not so terrible an ordeal as Stonor had feared--or perhaps it is
+more proper to say, that it was so terrible he was numbed and felt
+nothing. It was all over in a minute. "Miss Starling!" the name rang
+through his consciousness like the sound of silver bells.
+
+Face to face Stonor saw her but dimly through the mist of too much
+feeling. She treated him exactly the same as the others, that is to say,
+she was kind, smiling, interested, and personally inscrutable. Stonor
+was glad that there was another man pressing close at his heels, for he
+felt that he could stand no more just then. He was passed on to Miss
+Pringle. Of this lady it need only be said that she was a large-size
+clergyman's sister, a good soul, pious and kindly. She has little to do
+with this tale.
+
+In Stonor's eyes she proved to have a great merit, for she was disposed
+to talk exclusively about Miss Starling. Stonor's ears were long for
+that. From her talk he gathered three main facts: (a) that Miss
+Starling's given name was Clare (enchanting syllable!); (b) that the two
+ladies had become acquainted for the first time on the way into the
+country; (c) that Miss Starling was going back with the steamboat. "Of
+course!" thought Stonor, with his heart sinking slowly like a
+water-logged branch.
+
+"Isn't she plucky!" said Miss Pringle enthusiastically.
+
+"She looks it," said Stonor, with a sidelong glance at the object of her
+encomium.
+
+"To make this trip, I mean, all by herself."
+
+"Is it just to see the country?" asked Stonor diffidently.
+
+"Oh, don't you know? She's on the staff of the _Winnipeg News-Herald_,
+and is writing up the trip for her paper."
+
+Stonor instantly made up his mind to spend his next leave in Winnipeg.
+His relief was due in October.
+
+John Gaviller could do things in good style when he was moved to it. The
+table was gay with silver under candle-light. Down the centre were
+placed great bowls of painter's brush, the rose of the prairies. And
+with the smiling ladies to grace the head of the board, it was like a
+glimpse of a fairer world to the men of the North. Miss Pringle was on
+Gaviller's right, Miss Starling on his left. Stonor was about half-way
+down the table, and fortunately on the side opposite the younger lady,
+where he could gaze his fill.
+
+She was wearing a pink evening dress trimmed with silver, that to
+Stonor's unaccustomed eyes seemed like gossamer and moonshine. He was
+entranced by her throat and by the appealing loveliness of her thin
+arms. "How could I ever have thought a fat woman beautiful!" he asked
+himself. She talked with her arms and her delightfully restless
+shoulders. Stonor had heard somewhere that this was a sign of a warm
+heart. For the first time he had a view of her hair; it was dark and
+warm and plentiful, and most cunningly arranged.
+
+Stonor was totally unaware of what he was eating. From others, later, he
+learned of the triumph of the kitchen--and all at three hours' notice.
+Fortunately for him, everybody down the table was hanging on the talk at
+the head, so that no efforts in that direction were required of him. He
+was free to listen and dream.
+
+"Somewhere in the world there is a man who will be privileged some day
+to sit across the table from her at every meal! Not in a crowd like
+this, but at their own table in their own house. Probably quite an
+ordinary fellow, too, certainly not worthy of his luck. With her eyes
+for him alone, and her lovely white arms!--While other men are batching
+it alone. Things are not evenly divided in this world, for sure! If that
+man went to hell afterwards it wouldn't any more than square things."
+
+In answer to a question he heard her say: "Oh, don't ask me about
+Winnipeg! All cities are so ordinary and usual! I want to hear about
+your country. Tell me stories about the fascinating silent places."
+
+"Well, as it happens," said Gaviller, speaking slowly to give his words
+a proper effect, "we have a first-class mystery on hand just at
+present."
+
+"Oh, tell me all about it!" she said, as he meant her to.
+
+"A fellow, a white man, has appeared from nowhere at all, and set
+himself up beside the Swan River, an unexplored stream away to the
+north-west of here. There he is, and no one knows how he got there.
+We've never laid eyes on him, but the Indians bring us marvellous tales
+of his 'strong medicine,' meaning magic, you know. They say he first
+appeared from under the great falls of the Swan River. They describe him
+as a sort of embodiment of the voice of the Falls, but we suspect there
+is a more natural explanation, because he sends into the post for the
+food of common humans, and gets a bundle of magazines and papers by
+every mail. They come addressed to Doctor Ernest Imbrie. Our poor Doc
+here is as jealous as a cat of his reputation as a healer!"
+
+Gaviller was rewarded with a general laugh, in which her silvery tones
+were heard.
+
+"Oh, tell me more about him!" she cried.
+
+Of all the men who were watching her there was not one who observed any
+change in her face. Afterwards they remembered this with wonder. Yet
+there was something in her voice, her manner, the way she kept her chin
+up perhaps, that caused each man to think as her essential quality:
+
+"She's game!"
+
+The whole story of Imbrie as they knew it was told, with all the
+embroidery that had been unconsciously added during the past months.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+MORE ABOUT CLARE
+
+
+Determined to make the most of their rare feminine visitation at Fort
+Enterprise, on the following day the fellows got up a chicken hunt on
+the river bottom east of the post, to be followed by an _al fresco_
+supper at which broiled chicken was to be the _pièce de resistance_. The
+ladies didn't shoot any prairie chicken, but they stimulated the hunters
+with their presence, and afterwards condescended to partake of the
+delicate flesh.
+
+Stonor, though he was largely instrumental in getting the thing up, and
+though he worked like a Trojan to make the affair go, still kept himself
+personally in the background. He consorted with Captain Stinson and
+Mathews, middle-aged individuals who were considered out of the running.
+It was not so much shyness now, as an instinct of self-preservation.
+"She'll be gone in a week," he told himself. "You mustn't let this thing
+get too strong a hold on you, or life here after she has gone will be
+hellish. You've got to put her out of your mind, my son--or just keep
+her as a lovely dream not to be taken in earnest. Hardly likely, after
+seeing the world, that she'd look twice at a sergeant of police!"
+
+In his innocence Stonor adopted the best possible way of attracting her
+attention to himself. More than once, when he was not looking, her eyes
+sought him out curiously. In answer to her questions of the other men it
+appeared that it was Stonor who had sent the natives out in advance to
+drive the game past them: it was Stonor who surprised them with a cloth
+already spread under a poplar tree: it was Stonor who cooked the birds
+so deliciously. She was neither vain nor silly, but at the same time in
+a company where every man lay down at her feet, so to speak, and begged
+her to tread on him, it could not but seem peculiar to her that the
+best-looking man of them all should so studiously avoid her.
+
+Next day they all crossed the river and rode up to Simon Grampierre's
+place, where the half-breeds repeated the Victoria Day games for the
+amusement of the visitors. (These days are still talked of at Fort
+Enterprise.) Stonor was finally induced to give an exhibition of
+high-school riding as taught to the police recruits, and thereby threw
+all the other events in the shade. But their plaudits overwhelmed him.
+He disappeared and was seen no more that day.
+
+Sunday followed. Mr. Pringle and his sister had got the little church in
+order, and services were held there for the first time in many months.
+The mission was half a mile east of the Company buildings, and after
+church they walked home beside the fields of sprouting grain, in a
+comfortable Sabbath peace that was much the same at Enterprise as
+elsewhere in the world.
+
+The procession travelled in the following order: First, four surveyors
+marching with their heads over their shoulders, at imminent risk of an
+undignified stumble in the trail; next, Clare Starling, flanked on one
+side by Gaviller, on the other by Doc Giddings, with two more surveyors
+on the outlying wings, peering forward to get a glimpse of her; then
+Captain Stinson, Mathews, and Sergeant Stonor in a line, talking about
+the state of the crops, and making believe to pay no attention to what
+was going on ahead; lastly, Mr. Pringle and his sister hurrying to catch
+up.
+
+Half-way home Miss Starling, _à propos_ of nothing, suddenly stopped and
+turned her head. "Sergeant Stonor," she said. He stepped to her side.
+Since she clearly showed in her manner that she intended holding
+converse with the policeman, there was nothing for Gaviller _et al._ to
+do but proceed, which they did with none too good a grace. This left
+Stonor and the girl walking together in the middle of the procession.
+Stinson and Mathews, who were supposed to be out of it anyway, winked at
+each other portentously.
+
+"I wanted to ask you about that horse you rode yesterday, a beautiful
+animal. What do you call him?"
+
+"Miles Aroon," said Stonor, like a wooden man. He dreaded that she meant
+to go on and enlarge on his riding tricks. In his modesty he now
+regarded that he had made an awful ass of himself the day before. But
+she stuck to horse-flesh.
+
+"He's a beauty! Would he let me ride him?"
+
+"Oh, yes! He has no bad tricks. I broke him myself. But of course he
+knows nothing of side-saddles."
+
+"I ride astride."
+
+"I believe we're all going for a twilight ride to-night. I'll bring him
+for you."
+
+As a result of this Stonor's praiseworthy resolutions to keep out of
+harm's way were much weakened. Indeed, late that night in his little
+room in quarters he gave himself up to the most outrageous dreams of a
+possible future happiness. Stonor was quite unversed in the ways of
+modern ladies; all his information on the subject had been gleaned from
+romances, which, as everybody knows, are always behind the times in such
+matters, and it is possible that he banked too much on the simple fact
+of her singling him out on the walk home.
+
+There was a great obstacle in his way; the force sets its face against
+matrimony during the term of service. Stonor in his single-mindedness
+never thought that there were other careers. "I shall have to get a
+commission," he thought. "An inspectorship is little enough to offer
+her. But what an ornament she'd be to a post! And she'd love the life;
+she loves horses. But Lord! it's difficult nowadays, with nothing going
+on. If an Indian war would only break out!"--He was quite ready to
+sacrifice the unfortunate red race.
+
+On Monday night he was again bidden to dine at Enterprise House. As
+Gaviller since the day before had been no more than decently polite,
+Stonor ventured to hope that the invitation might have been instigated
+by her. At any rate he was placed by her side this time, where he sat a
+little dizzy with happiness, and totally oblivious to food. At the same
+time it should be understood that the young lady had no veiled glances
+or hidden meanings for him alone; she treated him, as she did all the
+others, to perfect candour.
+
+After dinner they had music in the drawing-room. The piano was
+grotesquely out of tune, but what cared they for that? She touched it
+and their souls were drawn out of their bodies. Probably the performer
+suffered, but she played on with a smile. They listened entranced until
+darkness fell, and when it is dark at Enterprise in June it is high time
+to go to bed.
+
+They all accompanied Stonor to the door. The long-drawn summer dusk of
+the North is an ever fresh wonder to newcomers. At sight of the
+exquisite half-light and the stars an exclamation of pleasure broke from
+Clare.
+
+"Much too fine a night to go to bed!" she cried. "Sergeant Stonor, take
+me out to the bench beside the flagstaff for a few minutes."
+
+As they sat down she said: "Don't you want to smoke?"
+
+"Don't feel the need of it," he said. His voice was husky with feeling.
+Would a man want to smoke in Paradise?
+
+By glancing down and sideways he could take her in as far up as her neck
+without appearing to stare rudely. She was sitting with her feet crossed
+and her hands in her lap like a well-bred little girl. When he dared
+glance at her eyes he saw that there was no consciousness of him there.
+They were regarding something very far away. In the dusk the wistfulness
+which hid behind a smile in daylight looked forth fully and broodingly.
+
+Yet when she spoke the matter was ordinary enough. "All the men here
+tell me about the mysterious stranger who lives on the Swan River. They
+can't keep away from the subject. And the funny part of it is, they all
+seem to be angry at him. Yet they know nothing of him. Why is that?"
+
+"It means nothing," said Stonor, smiling. "You see, all the men pride
+themselves on knowing every little thing that happens in the country.
+It's all they have to talk about. In a way the whole country is like a
+village. Well, it's only because this man has succeeded in defying their
+curiosity that they're sore. It's a joke!"
+
+"They tell me that you stand up for him," she said, with a peculiar
+warmth in her voice.
+
+"Oh, just to make the argument interesting," said Stonor lightly.
+
+"Is that all?" she said, chilled.
+
+"No, to tell the truth, I was attracted to the man from the first," he
+said more honestly. "By what the Indians said about his healing the sick
+and so on. And they said he was young. I have no friend of my own age up
+here--I mean no real friend. So I thought--well, I would like to know
+him."
+
+"I like that," she said simply.
+
+There was a silence.
+
+"Why don't you--sometime--go to him?" she said, with what seemed almost
+like a breathless air.
+
+"I am going," said Stonor simply. "I received permission in the last
+mail. The government wants me to look over the Kakisa Indians to see if
+they are ready for a treaty. The policy is to leave the Indians alone as
+long as they are able to maintain themselves under natural conditions.
+But as soon as they need help the government takes charge; limits them
+to a reservation; pays an annuity, furnishes medical attention, and so
+on. This is called taking treaty. The Kakisas are one of the last wild
+tribes left."
+
+She seemed scarcely to hear him. "When are you going?" she asked with
+the same air of breathlessness.
+
+"As soon as the steamboat goes back."
+
+"How far is it to Swan River?"
+
+"Something under a hundred and fifty miles. Three days' hard riding or
+four days' easy."
+
+"And how far down to the great falls?"
+
+"Accounts differ. From the known features of the map I should say about
+two hundred miles. They say the river's as crooked as a ram's horn."
+
+There was another silence. She was busy with her own thoughts, and
+Stonor was content not to talk if he might look at her.
+
+With her next speech she seemed to strike off at a tangent. She spoke
+with a lightness that appeared to conceal a hint of pain. "They say the
+mounted police are the guides, philosophers and friends of the people up
+North. They say you have to do everything, from feeding babies to
+reading the burial service."
+
+"I'm afraid there's a good bit of romancing about the police," said
+Stonor modestly.
+
+"But they do make good friends, don't they?" she insisted.
+
+"I hope so."
+
+She gave him the full of her deep, starry eyes. It was not an
+intoxicating glance, but one that moved him to the depths. "Will you be
+my friend?" she asked simply.
+
+Poor Stonor! With too great a need for speech, speech itself was
+foundered. No words ever coined seemed strong enough to carry the weight
+of his desire to assure her. He could only look at her, imploring her to
+believe in him. In the end only two little words came; to him
+wretchedly inadequate; but it is doubtful if they could have been
+bettered.
+
+"Try me!"
+
+His look satisfied her. She lowered her eyes. The height of emotion was
+too great to be maintained. She cast round in her mind for something to
+let them down. "How far to the north the sunset glow is now."
+
+Stonor understood. He answered in the same tone: "At this season it
+doesn't fade out all night. The sun is such a little way below the rim
+there, that the light just travels around the northern horizon, and
+becomes the dawn in a little while."
+
+For a while they talked of indifferent matters.
+
+By and by she said casually: "When you go out to Swan River, take me
+with you."
+
+He thought she was joking. "I say, that would be a lark!"
+
+She laughed a little nervously.
+
+He tried to keep it up, though his heart set up a furious beating at the
+bare idea of such a trip. "Can you bake bannock?"
+
+"I can make good biscuits."
+
+"What would we do for a chaperon?"
+
+"Nobody has chaperons nowadays."
+
+"You don't know what a moral community this is!"
+
+"I meant it," she said suddenly, in a tone there was no mistaking.
+
+All his jokes deserted him, and left him trembling a little. Indeed he
+was scandalized, too, being less advanced, probably, in his ideas than
+she. "It's--it's impossible!" he stammered at last.
+
+"Why?" she asked calmly.
+
+He could not give the real reason, of course. "To take the trail, you!
+To ride all day and sleep on the hard ground! And the river trip, an
+unknown river with Heaven knows what rapids and other difficulties! A
+fragile little thing like you!"
+
+Opposition stimulated her. "What you call my fragility is more apparent
+than real," she said with spirit. "As a matter of fact I have more
+endurance than most big women. I have less to carry. I am accustomed to
+living and travelling in the open. I can ride all day--or walk if need
+be."
+
+"It's impossible!" he repeated. It was the policeman who spoke. The
+man's blood was leaping, and his imagination painting the most alluring
+pictures. How often on his lonely journeys had he not dreamed of the
+wild delights of such companionship!
+
+"What is your real reason?" she asked.
+
+"Well, how could you go--with me, you know?" he said, blushing into the
+dusk.
+
+"I'm not afraid," she answered instantly. "Anyway, that's my look-out,
+isn't it?"
+
+"No," he said, "I have to think of it. The responsibility would be
+mine." Here the man broke through--"Oh, I talk like a prig!" he cried.
+"But don't you see, I'm not up here on my own. I can't do what I would
+like. A policeman has got to be proper, hasn't he?"
+
+She smiled at his _naïveté_. "But if I have business out there?"
+
+This sounded heartless to Stonor. It was the first and last time that he
+ventured to criticize her. "Oh," he objected, "I don't know what reasons
+the poor fellow has for burying himself--they must be good reasons, for
+it's no joke to live alone! It doesn't seem quite fair, does it, to dig
+him out and write him up in the papers?"
+
+"Oh, what must you think of me!" she murmured in a quick, hurt tone.
+
+He saw that he had made a mistake. "I--I beg your pardon," he stammered
+contritely. "I thought that was what you meant by business."
+
+"I'm not a reporter," she said.
+
+"But they told me----"
+
+"Yes, I know, I lied. I'm not apologizing for that. It was necessary to
+lie to protect myself from vulgar curiosity."
+
+He looked his question.
+
+She was not quite ready to answer it yet. "Suppose I had the best of
+reasons for going," she said, hurriedly, "a reason that Mrs. Grundy
+would approve of; it would be your duty as a policeman, wouldn't it, to
+help me?"
+
+"Yes--but----?"
+
+She turned imploring eyes on him, and unconsciously clasped her hands.
+"I'm sure you're generous and steadfast," she said quickly. "I can trust
+you, can't I, not to give me away? The gossip, the curious stares--it
+would be more than I could bear! Promise me, whatever you may think of
+it all, to respect my secret."
+
+"I promise," he said a little stiffly. It hurt him that he was required
+to protest his good faith. "The first thing we learn in the force is to
+keep our mouths shut."
+
+"Ah, now you're offended with me because I made you promise!"
+
+"It doesn't matter. It's over now. What is your reason for wanting to go
+out to Swan River?"
+
+She answered low: "I am Ernest Imbrie's wife."
+
+"Oh!" said Stonor in a flat tone. A sick disappointment filled him--yet
+in the back of his mind he had expected something of the kind. An inner
+voice whispered to him: "Not for you! It was too much to hope for!"
+
+Presently she went on: "I injured him cruelly. That's why he buried
+himself so far away."
+
+Stonor turned horror-stricken eyes on her.
+
+"Oh, not that," she said proudly and indifferently. "The injury I did
+him was to his spirit; that is worse." Stonor turned hot for his
+momentary suspicion.
+
+"I can repair it by going to him," she went on. "I _must_ go to him. I
+can never know peace until I have tried to make up to him a little of
+what I have made him suffer."
+
+She paused to give Stonor a chance to speak--but he was dumb.
+
+Naturally she misunderstood. "Isn't that enough?" she cried painfully.
+"I have told you the essential truth. Must I go into particulars? I
+can't bear to speak of these things!"
+
+"No! No!" he said, horrified. "It's not that. I don't want to hear any
+more."
+
+"Then you'll help me?"
+
+"I will take you to him."
+
+She began to cry in a pitiful shaken way.
+
+"Ah, don't!" murmured Stonor. "I can't stand seeing you."
+
+"It's--just from relief," she whispered.... "I've been under a
+strain.... I think I should have gone out of my mind--if I had been
+prevented from expiating the wrong I did.... I wish I could tell
+you--he's the bravest man in the world, I think--and the most
+unhappy!... And I heaped unhappiness on his head!"
+
+This was hard for Stonor to listen to, but it was so obviously a relief
+to her to speak, that he made no attempt to stop her.
+
+She soon quieted down. "I shan't try to thank you," she said. "I'll show
+you."
+
+Stonor foresaw that the proposed journey would be attended with
+difficulties.
+
+"Would it be possible," she asked meekly, "for you to plan to leave a
+day in advance of the steamboat, and say nothing about taking me?"
+
+"You mean for us to leave the post secretly?" he said, a little aghast.
+
+"When the truth came out it would be all right," she urged. "And it
+would save me from becoming the object of general talk and commiseration
+here. Why, if Mr. Gaviller knew in advance, he'd probably insist on
+sending a regular expedition."
+
+"Perhaps he would."
+
+"And they'd all try to dissuade me. I'd have to talk them over one by
+one--I haven't the strength of mind left for that. They'd say I ought to
+wait here and send for him----"
+
+"Well, wouldn't that be better?"
+
+"No! No! Not the same thing at all. I doubt if he'd come. And what would
+I be doing here--waiting--without news. I couldn't endure it. I must go
+to him."
+
+Stonor thought hard. Youth was pulling him one way, and his sense of
+responsibility the other. Moreover, this kind of case was not provided
+for in regulations. Finally he said:
+
+"Couldn't you announce your intention of remaining over for one trip of
+the steamboat? Miss Pringle would be glad to have you, I'm sure."
+
+"I could do that. But you're not going to delay the start?"
+
+"We can leave the day after the boat goes, as planned. But if we were
+missed before the boat left she'd carry out some great scandalous tale
+that we might never be able to correct. For if scandal gets a big enough
+start you can never overtake it."
+
+"You are right, of course. I never thought of that."
+
+"Then I see no objection to leaving the post secretly, provided you are
+willing to tell one reliable person in advance--say Pringle or his
+sister, of our intention. You see we must leave someone behind us to
+still the storm of gossip that will be let loose."
+
+"You think of everything!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE FIRST STAGE
+
+
+For two days Stonor went about his preparations with an air of dogged
+determination. It seemed to him that all the light had gone out of his
+life, and hope was dead. He told himself that the proposed trip could
+not be otherwise than the stiffest kind of an ordeal to a man in his
+position, an ordeal calling for well-nigh superhuman self-control. How
+gladly would he have given it up, had he not given his word.
+
+And then on the third day his spirits unaccountably began to rise. As a
+matter of fact youthful spirits must seek their natural level no less
+surely than water, but Stonor was angry with himself, accusing himself
+of lightheadedness, inconstancy and what not. His spirits continued to
+rise just the same. There was a delight in providing everything possible
+for her comfort. The mere thought of going away with her, under any
+circumstances whatsoever, made his heart sing.
+
+John Gaviller was astonished by the size and variety of his requisition
+for supplies. Besides the customary rations Stonor included all the
+luxuries the store afforded: viz., tinned fish, vegetables and fruit;
+condensed milk, marmalade and cocoa. And in quantities double what he
+would ordinarily have taken.
+
+"Getting luxurious in your old age, aren't you?" said the trader.
+
+"Oh, I'm tired of an unrelieved diet of bannock and beans," said Stonor,
+with a carelessness so apparent, they ought to have been warned; but of
+course they never dreamed of anything so preposterous as the truth.
+
+Stonor had two horses of his own. He engaged three more from Simon
+Grampierre, horses that he knew, and from Tole Grampierre purchased a
+fine rabbit-skin robe for Clare's bed on the trail. Tole, who had
+secretly hoped to be taken on this expedition, was much disappointed
+when no invitation was forthcoming. Stonor arranged with Tole to ride to
+meet him with additional supplies on the date when he might expect to be
+returning. Tole was to leave Enterprise on July 12th.
+
+From Father Goussard Stonor borrowed a mosquito tent on the plea that
+his own was torn. He smuggled a folding camp-cot into his outfit. Clare
+fortunately had brought suitable clothes for the most part. How well
+Stonor was to know that little suit cut like a boy's with Norfolk jacket
+and divided skirt! What additional articles she needed Miss Pringle
+bought at the store for a mythical destitute Indian boy. They had soon
+found it necessary to take Miss Pringle into their confidence. She went
+about charged with the secret like a soda-water-bottle with the cork
+wired down.
+
+Beside Gordon Strange, the only person around the post who could speak
+the Kakisa tongue was a woman, Mary Moosa, herself a Kakisa who had
+married a Cree. Her husband was a deck-hand on the steamboat. Stonor had
+already engaged Mary Moosa to take this trip with him as interpreter,
+and Mary, who had her own notions of propriety, had stipulated that her
+oldest boy be taken along. Mary herself promised to be a godsend on the
+trip; for she was just the comfortable dependable soul to look after
+Clare, but the boy now became a problem, for the dug-out that Stonor
+designed to use on the Swan River would only carry three persons
+comfortably, with the necessary outfit. Yet Stonor could not speak to
+Mary in advance about leaving the boy at home.
+
+Such was Stonor's assiduity that everything was ready for the start two
+days ahead of time--an unheard-of thing up North. Everybody at the post
+gave up a morning to seeing the steamboat off. She carried with her a
+report from Stonor to his inspector, telling of the proposed trip. Clare
+was among those who waved to her from the shore. No surprise had been
+occasioned by the announcement of her decision to remain over a trip.
+Gaviller was already planning further entertainments. She had by this
+time moved down to the Mission with the Pringles.
+
+On the afternoon of that day Stonor transported his goods and swam his
+horses across the river, to be ready for the start from the other side.
+Mary Moosa and her son met him there, and camped beside the outfit for
+the night. Stonor returned to Enterprise House for dinner. He had tried
+to get out of it, knowing that the fact of this dinner would rankle in
+the trader's breast afterwards, but Gaviller had insisted on giving him
+a send-off. It was not a happy affair, for three of the guests were
+wretchedly nervous. They could not help but see in their mind's eye
+Gaviller's expression of indignant astonishment when the news should be
+brought him next day.
+
+Gaviller further insisted on taking everybody down to the shore to see
+Stonor off, thus obliging the trooper to make an extra trip across the
+river and back in order to maintain the fiction. Stonor slept in his own
+camp for an hour, and then rowed down-stream and across, to land in
+front of the Mission.
+
+It is never perfectly dark at this season, and already day was beginning
+to break. Stonor climbed the bank, and showed himself at the top,
+knowing that they would be on the watch from within. The little grey log
+mission-house crouched in its neglected garden behind a fence of broken
+palings. But a touch of regeneration was already visible in Miss
+Pringle's geranium slips in the windows, and her bits of white curtain.
+
+The door was silently opened, and the two women kissed in the entry.
+Stonor was never to forget that picture in the still grey light. Clare,
+clad in the little Norfolk suit and the boy's stout boots and hat,
+crossed the yard with the little mincing steps so characteristic of her,
+and therefore so charming to the man who waited. Her face was pale, her
+eyes bright. Miss Pringle stood in the doorway, massive and tearful, a
+hand pressed to her mouth.
+
+Stonor's breast received a surprising wrench. "It's like an elopement!"
+he thought. "Ah, if she _were_ coming to me!"
+
+She smiled at him without speaking, and handed over her bag. Stonor
+closed the gate softly, and they made their way down the bank, and got
+in the boat.
+
+It was a good, stiff pull back against the current. They spoke little.
+Clare studied his grim face with some concern.
+
+"Regrets?" she asked.
+
+He rested on his oars for a moment and his face softened. He smiled at
+her frankly--and ruefully. "No regrets," he said, "but a certain amount
+of anxiety."
+
+His glance conveyed a good deal more than that--in spite of him. "I love
+you with all my heart. Of course I clearly understand that you have
+nothing for me. I am prepared to see this thing through, no matter what
+the end means to me.--But be merciful!" All this was in his look.
+Whether she got it or not, no man could have told. She looked away and
+dabbled her hand in the water.
+
+Mary Moosa was a self-respecting squaw who lived in a house with tables
+and chairs and went to church and washed her children with soap. In her
+plain black cotton dress, the skirt cut very full to allow her to ride
+astride, her new moccasins and her black straw hat she made a figure of
+matronly tidiness if not of beauty. She was cooking when they arrived.
+Her inward astonishment, at beholding Stonor returning with the white
+girl who had created such a sensation at the post, can be guessed; but,
+true to her traditions, she betrayed nothing of it to the whites. After
+a single glance in their direction her gaze returned to the frying-pan.
+
+It was Stonor who was put out of countenance, "Miss Starling is going
+with us," he said, with a heavy scowl.
+
+Mary made no comment on the situation, but continued gravely frying the
+flap-jacks to a delicate golden shade. Her son, aged about fourteen, who
+had less command over his countenance, stood in the background staring,
+with open eyes and mouth. It was a trying moment for Stonor and Clare.
+They discussed the prospects of a good day for the journey in rather
+strained voices.
+
+However, it proved that Mary's silence had neither an unfriendly nor a
+censorious intention. She merely required time to get her breath, so to
+speak. She transferred the flap-jacks from the pan to a plate, and,
+putting them in the ashes to keep hot, arose and came to Clare with
+extended hand.
+
+"How," she said, as she had been taught was manners to all.
+
+Clare took her hand with a right good will.
+
+It suddenly occurred to Mary that there was now no occasion for the boy
+to accompany them. Mary was a woman of few words. "You go home," she
+said calmly.
+
+The boy broke into a howl of grief, proving that the delights of the
+road are much the same to boys, red or white.
+
+"Poor little fellow!" said Clare.
+
+"Too young for travel," said Mary, impassively. "More trouble than
+help."
+
+Clare wished to intercede for him with Stonor, but the trooper shook his
+head.
+
+"No room in the dug-out," he said.
+
+Toma Moosa departed along the shore with his arm over his eyes.
+
+Mary was as good as a man on a trip. While Stonor and Clare ate she
+packed the horses, and Stonor had only to throw the hitch and draw it
+taut. Clare watched this operation with interest.
+
+"They swell up just like babies when you're putting their bands on," she
+remarked.
+
+They were on the move shortly after sunrise, that is to say half-past
+three. As they rode away over the flat, each took a last look at the
+buildings of the post across the river, gilded by the horizontal rays,
+each wondering privately what fortune had in store for them before they
+should see the spot again.
+
+They passed the last little shack and the last patch of grain before
+anybody was astir. When they rode out into the open country everybody's
+spirits rose. There is nothing like taking the trail to lift up the
+heart--and on a June morning in the north! Troubles, heart-aches and
+anxieties were left behind with the houses. Even Mary Moosa beamed in
+her inscrutable way.
+
+Stonor experienced a fresh access of confidence, and proceeded to
+deceive himself all over again. "I'm cured!" he thought. "There's
+nothing to mope about. She's my friend. Anything else is out of the
+question, and I will not think of it again. We'll just be good pals like
+two fellows. You can be a pal with the right kind of girl, and she is
+that.--But better than any fellow, she's so damn good to look at!"
+
+It was a lovely park-like country with graceful, white-stemmed poplars
+standing about on the sward, and dark spruces in the hollows. The grass
+was starred with flowers. When Nature sets out to make a park her style
+has a charming abandon that no landscape-gardener can ever hope to
+capture. After they mounted the low bench the country rolled shallowly,
+flat in the prospect, with a single, long, low eminence, blue athwart
+the horizon ahead.
+
+"That's the divide between the Spirit and the Swan," said Stonor. "We'll
+cross it to-morrow. From here it looks like quite a mountain, but the
+ascent is so gradual we won't know we're over it until we see the water
+flowing the other way."
+
+Clare rode Miles Aroon, Stonor's sorrel gelding, and Stonor rode the
+other police horse, a fine dark bay. These two animals fretted a good
+deal at the necessity of accommodating their pace to the humble pack
+animals. These latter had a stolid inscrutable look like their native
+masters. One in particular looked so respectable and matter-of-fact that
+Clare promptly christened her Lizzie.
+
+Lizzie proved to be a horse of a strong, bourgeois character. If her
+pack was not adjusted exactly to her liking, she calmly sat on her
+haunches in the trail until it was fixed. Furthermore, she insisted on
+bringing up the rear of the cavalcade. If she was put in the middle, she
+simply fell out until the others had passed. In her chosen place she
+proceeded to fall asleep, with her head hanging ever lower and feet
+dragging, while the others went on. Stonor, who knew the horse, let her
+have her way. There was no danger of losing her. When she awoke and
+found herself alone, she would come tearing down the trail, screaming
+for her beloved companions.
+
+Stonor rode at the head of his little company with a leg athwart his
+saddle, so he could hold converse with Clare behind.
+
+Pointing to the trail stretching ahead of them like an endless brown
+ribbon over prairie and through bush, he said: "I suppose trails are the
+oldest things in America. Once thoroughly made they can never be
+effaced--except by the plough. You see, they never can run quite
+straight, though the country may be as flat as your hand, but the width
+never varies; three and a half hands."
+
+Travelling with horses is not all picnicking. Three times a day they
+have to be unpacked and turned out to _graze_, and three times _caught_
+and _packed again_; this in addition to the regular camp routine of
+pitching tents, rustling wood, cooking, etc. Clare announced her
+intention of taking over the cooking, but she found that baking biscuits
+over an open fire in a drizzle of rain, offered a new set of problems to
+the civilized cook, and Mary had to come to her rescue.
+
+During this, their first spell by the trail, Stonor was highly amused to
+watch Clare's way with Mary. She simply ignored Mary's discouraging
+red-skin stolidity, and assumed that they were sisters under their
+skins. She pretended that it was necessary for them to take sides
+against Stonor in order to keep the man in his place. It was not long
+before Mary was grinning broadly. Finally at some low-voiced sally of
+Clare's she laughed outright. Stonor had never heard her laugh before.
+Thereafter she was Clare's. Realizing that the wonderful white girl
+really wished to make friends, Mary offered her a doglike devotion that
+never faltered throughout the difficult days that followed.
+
+They slept throughout the middle part of the day, and later, the sky
+clearing, they rode until near sun-down in order to make a good
+water-hole that Mary knew of. When they had supped and made all snug for
+the night, Stonor let fall the piece of information that Mary was well
+known as a teller of tales at the Post. Clare gave her no peace then
+till she consented to tell a story. They sat in a row behind Stonor's
+little mosquito-bar, for the insects were abroad, with the fire burning
+before them, and Mary began.
+
+"I tell you now how the people got the first medicine-pipe. This story
+is about Thunder. Thunder is everywhere. He roar in the mountains, he
+shout far out on the prairie. He strike the high rocks and they fall. He
+hit a tree and split it like with a big axe. He strike people and they
+die. He is bad. He like to strike down the tall things that stand. He is
+ver' powerful. He is the most strong one. Sometimes he steals women.
+
+"Long tam ago, almost in the beginning, a man and his wife sit in their
+lodge when Thunder come and strike them. The man was not killed. At
+first he is lak dead, but bam-bye he rise up again and look around him.
+His wife not there. He say: 'Oh well, she gone to get wood or water,'
+and he sit awhile. But when the sun had gone under, he go out and ask
+the people where she go. Nobody see her. He look all over camp, but not
+find her. Then he know Thunder steal her, and he go out alone on the
+hills and mak' sorrow.
+
+"When morning come he get up and go far away, and he ask all the animals
+he meet where Thunder live. They laugh and not tell him. Wolf say: 'W'at
+you think! We want go look for the one we fear? He is our danger. From
+others we can run away. From him there is no running. He strike and
+there we lie! Turn back! Go home! Do not look for the place of the
+feared one.'
+
+"But the man travel on. Travel very far. Now he come to a lodge, a funny
+lodge, all made of stone. Here live the raven chief. The man go in.
+
+"Raven chief say: 'Welcome, friend. Sit down. Sit down.' And food was
+put before him.
+
+"When he finish eating, Raven say: 'Why you come here?'
+
+"Man say: 'Thunder steal my wife away. I want find his place so I get
+her back.'
+
+"Raven say: 'I think you be too scare to go in the lodge of that feared
+one. It is close by here. His lodge is made of stone like this, and
+hanging up inside are eyes--all the eyes of those he kill or steal away.
+He take out their eyes and hang them in his lodge. Now, will you enter?'
+
+"Man say: 'No. I am afraid. What man could look on such things of fear
+and live?'
+
+"Raven say: 'No common man can. There is only one old Thunder fears.
+There is only one he cannot kill. It is I, the Raven. Now I will give
+you medicine and he can't harm you. You go enter there, and look among
+those eyes for your wife's eyes, and if you find them, tell that Thunder
+why you come, and make him give them to you. Here now is a raven's wing.
+You point it to him, and he jomp back quick. But if that is not strong
+enough, take this. It is an arrow, and the stick is made of elk-horn.
+Take it, I say, and shoot it through his lodge.'
+
+"Man say: 'Why make a fool of me? My heart is sad. I am crying.' And he
+cover up his head with his blanket and cry.
+
+"Raven say: 'Wah! You do not believe me! Come out, come out, and I make
+you believe!' When they stand outside Raven ask: 'Is the home of your
+people far?'
+
+"Man say: 'Very far!'
+
+"'How many days' journey?'
+
+"Man say: 'My heart is sad. I not count the days. The berries grow and
+get ripe since I leave my lodge.'
+
+"Raven say: 'Can you see your camp from here?'
+
+"Man think that is foolish question and say nothing.
+
+"Then the Raven rub some medicine on his eyes and say: 'Look!' The man
+look and see his own camp. It was close. He see the people. He see the
+smoke rising from the lodges. And at that wonderful thing the man
+believe in the Raven's medicine.
+
+"Then Raven say: 'Now take the wing and the arrow and go get your
+wife.'
+
+"So the man take those things and go to Thunder's lodge. He go in and
+sit down by the door. Thunder sit inside and look at him with eyes of
+lightning. But the man look up and see those many pairs of eyes hanging
+up. And the eyes of his wife look at him, and he know them among all
+those others.
+
+"Thunder ask in a voice that shake the ground: 'Why you come here?'
+
+"Man say: 'I looking for my wife that you steal from me. There hang her
+eyes!'
+
+"Thunder say: 'No man can enter my lodge and live!' He get up to strike
+him. But the man point the raven's wing at him, and Thunder fall back on
+his bed and shiver. But soon he is better, and get up again. Then the
+man put the elk-horn arrow to his bow, and shoot it through the lodge of
+rock. Right through that lodge of rock it make a crooked hole and let
+the sunlight in.
+
+"Thunder cry out: 'Stop! You are stronger! You have the great medicine.
+You can have your wife. Take down her eyes.' So the man cut the string
+that held them, and right away his wife stand beside him.
+
+"Thunder say: 'Now you know me. I have great power. I live here in
+summer, but when winter come I go far south where there is no winter.
+Here is my pipe. It is medicine. Take it and keep it. When I come in
+spring you fill and light this pipe, and you pray to me, you and all the
+people. Because I bring the rain which make the berries big and ripe. I
+bring the rain which make all things grow. So you must pray to me, you
+and all the people.'
+
+"That is how the people got the first medicine-pipe. It was long ago."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mary went to her own little tent, and presently they heard her peaceful
+snoring. The sound had the effect of giving body to the immensity of
+stillness that surrounded them and held them. Sitting beside Clare,
+looking out at the fire through the netting, Stonor felt his safeguards
+slipping fast. There they were, the two of them, to all intents alone in
+the world! How natural for them to draw close, and, while her head
+dropped on his shoulder, for his arm to slip around her slender form and
+hold her tight! He trembled a little, and his mouth went dry. If he had
+been visiting her he could have got out, but he couldn't put her out.
+There was nothing to do but sit tight and fight the thing. Moistening
+his lips, he said:
+
+"It's been a good day on the whole."
+
+"Ah, splendid!" she said. "If one could only hit the trail for ever
+without being obliged to arrive at a destination, and take up the
+burdens of a stationary life!"
+
+Stonor pondered on this answer. It sounded almost as if she dreaded
+coming to the end of her journey.
+
+Out of the breathless dusk came a long-drawn and inexpressibly mournful
+ululation. Clare involuntarily drew a little closer to Stonor. Ah, but
+it was hard to keep from seizing her then!
+
+"Wolves?" she asked in an awe-struck tone.
+
+He shook his head. "Only the wolf's little mongrel brother, coyote," he
+said.
+
+"All my travelling has been done in the mountains," she explained. She
+shivered delicately. "The first night out is always a little terrible,
+isn't it?"
+
+"You're not afraid?" he asked anxiously.
+
+"Not exactly afraid. Just a little quivery."
+
+She got up, and he held up the mosquito-netting for her to pass. Outside
+they instinctively lifted up their faces to the pale stars.
+
+"It's safer and cleaner than a city," said Stonor simply.
+
+"I know." She still lingered for a moment. "What's your name?" she asked
+abruptly.
+
+"Martin."
+
+"Good-night, Martin."
+
+"Good-night!"
+
+Later, rolling on his hard bed, he thought: "She might have given me her
+hand when she said it.--No, you fool! She did right not to! You've got
+to get a grip on yourself. This is only the first day! If you begin like
+this----!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE KAKISAS
+
+
+On the afternoon of the fourth day they suddenly issued out of big
+timber to find themselves at the edge of a plateau overlooking a shallow
+green valley, bare of trees in this place, and bisected by a
+smoothly-flowing brown river bordered with willows. The flat contained
+an Indian village.
+
+"Here we are!" said Stonor, reining up.
+
+"The unexplored river!" cried Clare. "How exciting! But how pretty and
+peaceful it looks, just like an ordinary river. I suppose it doesn't
+realize it's unexplored."
+
+On the other side there was a bold point with a picturesque clump of
+pines shading a number of the odd little gabled structures with which
+the Indians cover the graves of their dead. On the nearer side from off
+to left appeared a smaller stream which wound across the meadow and
+emptied into the Swan. At intervals during the day their trail had
+bordered this little river, which Clare had christened the Meander.
+
+The tepees of the Indian village were strung along its banks, and the
+stream itself was filled with canoes. On a grassy mound to the right
+stood a little log shack which had a curiously impertinent look there in
+the midst of Nature untouched. On the other hand the tepees sprang from
+the ground as naturally as trees.
+
+Their coming naturally had the effect of a thunderclap on the village.
+They had scarcely shown themselves from among the trees when their
+presence was discovered. A chorus of sharp cries was raised, and there
+was much aimless running about like ants when the hill is disturbed. The
+cries did not suggest a welcome, but excitement purely. Men, women, and
+children gathered in a dense little crowd beside the trail where they
+must pass. None wished to put themselves forward. Those who lived on the
+other side of the little stream paddled frantically across to be in time
+for a close view.
+
+As they approached, absolute silence fell on the Indians, the silence of
+breathless excitement. The red-coat they had heard of, and in a general
+way they knew what he signified; but a white woman to them was as
+fabulous a creature as a mermaid or a hamadryad. Their eyes were saved
+for Clare. They fixed on her as hard, bright, and unwinking as jet
+buttons. They conveyed nothing but an animal curiosity. Clare nodded and
+smiled to them in her own way, but no muscle of any face relaxed.
+
+"Their manners will bear improving," muttered Stonor.
+
+"Oh, give them a chance," said Clare. "We've dropped on them out of a
+clear sky."
+
+Some of the tepees were still made of tanned skins decorated with rude
+pictures; they saw bows and arrows and bark-canoes, things which have
+almost passed from America. The dress of the inhabitants was less
+picturesque; some of the older men still wore their picturesque blanket
+capotes, but the younger were clad in machine-made shirts and pants from
+the store, and the women in cotton dresses. They were a pure race, and
+as such presented for the most part fine, characteristic faces; but in
+body they were undersized and weedy, showing that their stock was
+running out.
+
+Stonor led the way across the flat and up a grassy rise to the little
+shack that has been mentioned. It had been built for the Company clerk
+who had formerly traded with the Kakisas, and Stonor designed it to
+accommodate Clare for the night. They dismounted at the door. The
+Indians followed them to within a distance of ten paces, where they
+squatted on their heels or stood still, staring immovably. Stonor
+resented their curiosity. Good manners are much the same the world over,
+and a self-respecting people would not have acted so, he told himself.
+None offered to stir hand or foot to assist them to unpack.
+
+Stonor somewhat haughtily desired the head man to show himself. When one
+stepped forward, he received him sitting in magisterial state on a box
+at the door. Personally the most modest of men, he felt for the moment
+that Authority had to be upheld in him. So the Indian was required to
+stand.
+
+His name was Ahchoogah (as near as a white man could get it) and he was
+about forty years old. Though small and slight like all the Kakisas, he
+had a comely face that somehow suggested race. He was better dressed
+than the majority, in expensive "moleskin" trousers from the store, a
+clean blue gingham shirt, a gaudy red sash, and an antique
+gold-embroidered waistcoat that had originated Heaven knows where. On
+his feet were fine white moccasins lavishly embroidered in coloured
+silks.
+
+"How," he said, the one universal English word. He added a more
+elaborate greeting in his own tongue.
+
+Mary translated. "Ahchoogah say he glad to see the red-coat, like he
+glad to see the river run again after the winter. Where the red-coats
+come there is peace and good feeling among all. No man does bad to
+another man. Ahchoogah hope the red-coat come often to Swan River."
+
+Stonor watched the man's face while he was speaking, and apprehended
+hostility behind the smooth words. He was at a loss to account for it,
+for the police are accustomed to being well received. "There's been some
+bad influence at work here," he thought.
+
+He said grimly to Mary: "Tell him that I hear his good words, but I do
+not see from the faces of his people that we are welcome here."
+
+This was repeated to Ahchoogah, who turned and objurgated his people
+with every appearance of anger.
+
+"What's he saying to them?" Stonor quietly asked Mary.
+
+"Call bad names," said Mary. "Swear Kakisa swears. Tell them go back to
+the tepees and not look like they never saw nothing before."
+
+And sure enough the surrounding circle broke up and slunk away.
+
+Ahchoogah turned a bland face back to the policeman, and through Mary
+politely enquired what had brought him to Swan River.
+
+"I will tell you," said Stonor. "I come bearing a message from the
+mighty White Father across the great water to his Kakisa children. The
+White Father sends a greeting and desires to know if it is the wish of
+the Kakisas to take treaty like the Crees, the Beavers, and other
+peoples to the East. If it is so, I will send word, and my officers and
+the doctor will come next summer with the papers to be signed."
+
+Ahchoogah replied in diplomatic language that so far as his particular
+Kakisas were concerned they thought themselves better off as they were.
+They had plenty to eat most years, and they didn't want to give up the
+right to come and go as they chose. No bad white men coveted their lands
+as yet, and they needed no protection from them. However, he would send
+messengers to his brothers up and down the river, and all would be
+guided by the wishes of the greatest number.
+
+At the beginning of this talk Clare had gone inside to escape the
+piercing stares. While he talked, Ahchoogah was continually trying to
+peer around Stonor to get a glimpse of her. When the diplomatic
+formalities were over, he said (according to Mary):
+
+"I not know you got white wife. Nobody tell me that. She is very
+pretty."
+
+"Tell him she is not my wife," said Stonor, with a portentous scowl to
+hide his blushes. "Tell him--Oh, the devil! he wouldn't understand. Tell
+him her name is Miss Clare Starling."
+
+"What she come for?" Ahchoogah coolly asked.
+
+"Tell him she travels to please herself," said Stonor, letting him make
+what he would of that.
+
+"Ahchoogah say he want shake her by the hand."
+
+Stonor was in a quandary. The thought of the grimy hand touching Clare's
+was detestable yet, if the request had been made in innocence it seemed
+churlish to object. Clare, who overheard, settled the question for him,
+by coming out and offering her hand to the Indian with a smile.
+
+To Mary she said: "Tell him to tell the women of his people that the
+white woman wishes to be their sister."
+
+Ahchoogah stared at her with a queer mixture of feelings. He was much
+taken aback by her outspoken, unafraid air. He had expected to despise
+her, as he had been taught to despise all women, but somehow she struck
+respect into his soul. He resented it: he had taken pleasure in the
+prospect of despising something white.
+
+Clare went back into the shack. Ahchoogah, with a shrug, dismissed her
+from his mind. He spoke again with his courteous air; meanwhile (or at
+any rate so Stonor thought) his black eyes glittered with hostility.
+
+Mary translated: "Ahchoogah say all very glad you come. He say to-morrow
+night he going to give big tea-dance. He send for the Swan Lake people
+to come. A man will ride all night to bring them in time. He say it will
+be a big time."
+
+"Say we thank him for the big time just as if we had had it," said
+Stonor, not to be outdone in politeness. "But we must go on down the
+river to-morrow morning."
+
+When this was translated to Ahchoogah, he lost his self-possession for a
+moment, and scowled blackly at Stonor. Quickly recovering himself, he
+began suavely to protest.
+
+"Ahchoogah say the messenger of the Great White Father mustn't go up and
+down the river to the Kakisas and ask like a poor man for them to take
+treaty. Let him stay here, and let the poor Kakisas come to him and make
+respect."
+
+"My instructions are to visit the people where they live," said Stonor
+curtly. "I shall want the dug-out that the Company man left here last
+Spring."
+
+Ahchoogah scowled again. Mary translated: "Ahchoogah say, why you want
+heavy dug-out when he got plenty nice light bark-canoes."
+
+"I can't use bark-canoes in the rapids."
+
+A startled look shot out of the Indian's eyes. Mary translated: "What
+for you want go down rapids? No Kakisas live below the rapids."
+
+"I'm going to visit the white man at the Great Falls."
+
+When Ahchoogah got this he bent the look of a pure savage on Stonor,
+walled and inscrutable. He sullenly muttered something that Mary
+repeated as: "No can go."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Nobody ever go down there."
+
+"Well, somebody's got to be the first to go."
+
+"Rapids down there no boat can pass."
+
+"The white man came up to the Indians when they were sick last fall. If
+he can come up I can go down."
+
+"He got plenty strong medicine."
+
+Stonor laughed. "Well, I venture to say that my medicine is as strong as
+his--in the rapids."
+
+Ahchoogah raised a whole cloud of objections. "Plenty white-face bear
+down there. Big as a horse. Kill man while he sleeps. Wolf down there.
+Run in packs as many as all the Kakisas. Him starving this year."
+
+"Women's talk!" said Stonor contemptuously.
+
+"You get carry over those falls. Behind those falls is a great pile of
+white bones. It is the bones of all the men and beasts that were carried
+over in the past. Those falls have no voice to warn you above. The water
+slip over so smooth and soft you not know there is any falls till you go
+over."
+
+"Tell Ahchoogah he cannot scare white men with such tales. Tell him to
+bring me the dug-out to the river-shore below here."
+
+Ahchoogah muttered sulkily. Mary translated: "Ahchoogah say got no
+dug-out. Man take it up to Swan Lake."
+
+"Very well, then; I'll take two bark-canoes and carry around the
+rapids."
+
+He still objected. "If you take our canoes, how we going to hunt and
+fish for our families?"
+
+"You offered me the canoes!" cried Stonor wrathfully.
+
+"I forget then that every man got only one canoe."
+
+Stonor stood up in his majesty; Ahchoogah was like a pigmy before him.
+"Tell him to go!" cried the policeman. "His mouth is full of lies and
+bad talk. Tell him to have the dug-out or the two canoes here by
+to-morrow morning or I'll come and take them!"
+
+The Indian now changed his tone, and endeavoured to soften the
+policeman's anger, but Stonor turned on his heel and entered the shack.
+Ahchoogah went away down-hill with a crestfallen air.
+
+"What do you make of it all?" Clare asked anxiously.
+
+Stonor spoke lightly. "Well, it's clear they don't want us to go down
+the river, but what their reasons are I couldn't pretend to say. They
+may have some sort of idea that for us to explode the mystery of the
+river and the white medicine man whom they regard as their own would be
+to lower their prestige as a tribe. It's hard to say. It's almost
+impossible to get at their real reasons, and when you do, they generally
+seem childish to us. I don't think it's anything we need bother our
+heads about."
+
+"I was watching him," said Clare. "He didn't seem to me like a bad man
+so much as like a child who's got some wrong idea in his head."
+
+"That's my idea too," said Stonor. "One feels somehow that there's been
+a bad influence at work lately. But what influence could reach away out
+here? It beats me! Their White Medicine Man ought to have done them
+good."
+
+"He couldn't do them otherwise than good--so far as they would listen to
+him," she said quickly.
+
+They hastily steered away from this uncomfortable subject.
+
+"Maybe Mary can help us," said Stonor. "Mary, go among your people and
+talk to them. Give them good talk. Let them understand that we have no
+object but to be their friends. If there is a good reason why we
+shouldn't go down the river let them speak it plainly. But this talk of
+danger and magic simply makes white men laugh."
+
+Mary dutifully took her way down to the tepees. She returned in time to
+get supper--but threw no further light on the mystery.
+
+"What about it, Mary?" asked Stonor.
+
+"Don't go down the river," she said earnestly. "Plenty bad trip, I
+think. I 'fraid for her. She can't paddle a canoe in the rapids nor
+track up-stream. What if we capsize and lose our grub? Don't go!"
+
+"Didn't the Kakisas give you any better reasons than that?"
+
+Mary was doggedly silent.
+
+"Ah, have they won you away from us too?"
+
+This touched the red woman. Her face worked painfully. She did her best
+to explain. "Kakisas my people," she said. "Maybe you think they foolish
+people. All right. Maybe they are not a wise and strong people like the
+old days. But they my people just the same. I can't tell white men their
+things."
+
+"She's right," put in Clare quickly. "Don't ask her any more."
+
+"Well, what do you think?" he asked. "Do you not wish to go any
+further?"
+
+"Yes! Yes!" she cried. "I must go on!"
+
+"Very good," he said grimly. "We'll start to-morrow."
+
+"I not go," said Mary stolidly. "My people mad at me if I go."
+
+Here was a difficulty! Stonor and Clare looked at each other blankly.
+
+"What the devil----!" began the policeman.
+
+"Hush! leave her to me," said Clare, urging him out of the shack.
+
+By and by she rejoined him outside. "She'll come," she said briefly.
+
+"What magic did you use?"
+
+"No magic. Just woman talk."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ON THE RIVER
+
+
+Next morning they saw the dug-out pulled up on the shore below their
+camp.
+
+"The difference between a red man and a white man," said Stonor grimly,
+"is that a red man doesn't mind being caught in a lie after the occasion
+for it has passed, but a white man will spend half the rest of his life
+trying to justify himself."
+
+He regarded the craft dubiously. It was an antique affair, grey as an
+old badger, warped and seamed by the sun and rotten in the bottom. But
+it had a thin skin of sound wood on the outside, and on the whole it
+seemed better suited to their purpose than the bark-canoes used by the
+Kakisas.
+
+As they carried their goods down and made ready to start the Indians
+gathered around and watched with glum faces. None offered to help. It
+must have been a trying situation for Mary Moosa. When Stonor was out of
+hearing they did not spare her. She bore it with her customary stoicism.
+Ahchoogah, less honest than the rank and file, sought to commend himself
+to the policeman by a pretence of friendliness. Stonor, beyond telling
+him that he would hold him responsible for the safety of the horses
+during his absence, ignored him.
+
+Having stowed their outfit, they gingerly got in. Their boat, though
+over twenty feet long, was only about fifteen inches beam, and of the
+log out of which she had been fashioned she still retained the tendency
+to roll over. Mary took the bow paddle, and Stonor the stern; Clare sat
+amidships facing the policeman.
+
+"If we can only keep on top until we get around the first bend we'll
+save our dignity, anyhow," said Stonor.
+
+They pushed off without farewells. When they rounded the first point of
+willows and passed out of sight of the crowd of lowering, dark faces,
+they felt relieved. Stonor was able to drop the port of august
+policeman.
+
+Said he: "I'm going to call this craft the Serpent. She's got a fair
+twist on her. Her head is pointed to port and her tail to starboard. It
+takes a mathematical deduction to figure out which way she's going."
+
+Clare was less ready than usual to answer his jokes. She was pale, and
+there was a hint of strain in her eyes.
+
+"You're not bothered about Ahchoogah's imaginary terrors, are you?" he
+asked.
+
+She shook her head. "Not that."
+
+He wondered what it was then, but did not like to ask directly. It
+suddenly struck him that she had been steadily losing tone since the
+first day on the trail.
+
+Her next words showed the direction her thoughts were taking. "You said
+it was two hundred miles down the river. How long do you think it will
+take us to make it?"
+
+"Three days and a bit, if my guess as to the distance is right. We have
+the current to help us, and now we don't have to stop for the horses to
+graze."
+
+"They will be hard days to put in," she said simply.
+
+Stonor pondered for a long time on what she meant by this. Was she so
+consumed by impatience to arrive that the dragging hours were a torture
+to her? or was it simply the uncertainty of what awaited her, and a
+longing to have it over with? That she had been eager for the journey
+was clear, but it had not seemed like a joyful eagerness. He was aware
+that there was something here he did not understand. Women had
+unfathomable souls anyway.
+
+As far as he was concerned he frankly dreaded the outcome of the
+journey. How was he to bear himself at the meeting of this divided
+couple? He could not avoid being a witness of it. He must hand her over
+with a smile, he supposed, and make a graceful get-away. But suppose he
+were prevented from leaving immediately. Or suppose, as was quite
+likely, that they wished to return with him! He ground his teeth at the
+thought of such an ordeal. Would he be able to carry it off? He must!
+
+"What's the matter?" Clare asked suddenly. She had been studying his
+face.
+
+"Why did you ask?"
+
+"You looked as if you had a sudden pain."
+
+"I had," he said, with a rueful smile. "My knees. It's so long since I
+paddled that they're not limbered up yet."
+
+She appeared not altogether satisfied with this explanation.
+
+This part of the river showed a succession of long smooth reaches with
+low banks of a uniform height bordered with picturesque ragged
+jack-pines, tall, thin, and sharply pointed. Here and there, where the
+composition seemed to require it, a perfect island was planted in the
+brown flood. At the foot of the pines along the edge of each bank grew
+rows of berry bushes as regularly as if set out by a gardener. Already
+the water was receding as a result of the summer drouth, but, as fast as
+it fell, the muddy beach left at the foot of each bank was mantled with
+the tender green of goose-grass, a diminutive cousin of the tropical
+bamboo. Mile after mile the character of the stream showed no variance.
+It was like a noble corridor through the pines.
+
+At intervals during the day they met a few Kakisas, singly or in pairs,
+in their beautifully-made little birch-bark canoes. These individuals,
+when they came upon them suddenly, almost capsized in their astonishment
+at beholding pale-faces on their river. No doubt, in the tepees behind
+the willows, the coming of the whites had long been foretold as a
+portent of dreadful things.
+
+They displayed their feelings according to their various natures. The
+first they met, a solitary youth, was frankly terrified. He hastened
+ashore, the water fairly cascading from his paddle, and, squatting
+behind the bushes, peered through at them like an animal. The next pair
+stood their ground, clinging to an overhanging willow--too startled to
+escape perhaps--where they stared with goggling eyes, and visibly
+trembled. It gave Stonor and Clare a queer sense of power thus to have
+their mere appearance create so great an excitement. Nothing could be
+got out of these two; they would not even answer questions from Mary in
+their own tongue.
+
+The fourth Kakisa, however, an incredibly ragged and dirty old man with
+a dingy cotton fillet around his snaky locks, hailed them with wild
+shouts of laughter, paddled to meet them, and clung to the dug-out,
+fondly stroking Stonor's sleeve. The sight of Clare caused him to go off
+into fresh shrieks of good-natured merriment. His name, he informed
+them, was Lookoovar, or so they understood it. He had a stomach-ache, he
+said, and wished for some of the white man's wonderful stomach-warming
+medicine of which he had heard.
+
+"It seems that our principal claim to fame up here is whisky," said
+Stonor.
+
+He gave the old man a pill. Lookoovar swallowed it eagerly, but looked
+disappointed at the absence of immediate results.
+
+All these men were hunting their dinners. Close to the shore they
+paddled softly against the current, or drifted silently down, searching
+the bushes with their keen flat eyes for the least stir. Since
+everything had to come down to the river sooner or later to drink, they
+could have had no better point of vantage. Every man had a gun in his
+canoe, but ammunition is expensive on the Swan River, and for small fry,
+musk-rat, duck, fool-hen, or rabbit, they still used the prehistoric bow
+and arrow.
+
+"The Swan River is like the Kakisas' Main Street," said Stonor. "All day
+they mosey up and down looking in the shop-windows for bargains in
+feathers and furs."
+
+They camped for the night on a cleared point occupied by the bare poles
+of several tepees. The Indians left these poles standing at all the best
+sites along the river, ready to use the next time they should spell that
+way. They frequently left their caches too, that is to say, spare gear,
+food and what-not, trustfully hanging from near-by branches in
+birch-bark containers. The Kakisas even tote water in bark pails.
+
+Next day the character of the river changed. It now eddied around
+innumerable short bends right and left with an invariable regularity,
+each bend so like the last they lost all track of the distance they had
+come. Its course was as regularly crooked as a crimping-iron. On each
+bend it ate under the bank on the outside, and deposited a bar on the
+inside. On one side the pines toppled into the water as their footing
+was undermined, while poplars sprang up on the other side in the
+newly-made ground.
+
+On the afternoon of this day they suddenly came upon the village of
+which they had been told. It fronted on a little lagoon behind one of
+the sand-bars. This was the village where Imbrie was said to have cured
+the Kakisas of measles. At present most of the inhabitants were pitching
+off up and down the river, and there were only half a dozen covered
+tepees in sight, but the bare poles of many others showed the normal
+extent of the village.
+
+The usual furore of excitement was caused by their unheralded appearance
+around the bend. For a moment the Indians completely lost their heads,
+and there was a mad scurry for the tepees. Some mothers dragged their
+screaming offspring into the bush for better shelter. Only one or two of
+the bravest among the men dared show themselves. But with true savage
+volatility they recovered from their panic as suddenly as they had been
+seized. One by one they stole to the edge of the bank, where they stood
+staring down at the travellers, with their shoe-button eyes empty of all
+human expression.
+
+Stonor had no intention of landing here. He waited with the nose of the
+Serpent resting in the mud until the excitement died down. Then, through
+Mary, he requested speech with the head man.
+
+A bent old man tottered down the bank with the aid of a staff. He wore a
+dirty blanket capote--and a bicycle cap! He faced them, his head wagging
+with incipient palsy, and his dim eyes looking out bleared, indifferent,
+and jaded. Sparse grey hairs decorated his chin. It was a picture of age
+without reverence.
+
+"How dreadful to grow old in a tepee!" murmured Clare.
+
+The old man was accompanied by a comely youth with bold eyes, his
+grandson, according to Mary. The elder's name was Ahcunazie, the boy's
+Ahteeah.
+
+Stonor, in the name of the Great White Father, harangued the chief in a
+style similar to that he had used with Ahchoogah. Ahcunazie appeared
+dazed and incapable of replying, so Stonor said:
+
+"Talk with your people and find out what all desire. I will return in a
+week for your answer."
+
+When this was translated the young man spoke up sharply. Mary said:
+"Ahteeah say, What for you want go down the river?"
+
+Stonor said: "To see the white man," and watched close to see how they
+would take it.
+
+The scene in the other village was almost exactly repeated. Ahteeah
+brought up all the reasons he could think of that would be likely to
+dissuade Stonor. Other men, hearing what was going forward, came down to
+support the boy. Stonor's boat was rotten, they pointed out, and the
+waves in the rapids ran as high as a man. With vivid gestures they
+illustrated what would happen to the dug-out in the rapids. If he
+escaped the rapids he would surely be carried over the Falls; and if he
+wasn't, how did he expect to get back up the rapids? And so on.
+
+Old Ahcunazie stood through it all uncomprehending and indifferent. He
+was too old even to betray any interest in the phenomenon of the white
+woman.
+
+One thing new the whites marked: "White Medicine Man don' like white
+men. He say if white men come he goin' away." This suggested a possible
+reason for the Indian's opposition.
+
+Stonor still remaining unmoved, Ahteeah brought out as a clincher:
+"White Medicine Man not home now."
+
+Stonor and Clare looked at each other startled. This would be a calamity
+after having travelled all that way. "Where is he?" Stonor demanded.
+
+The young Indian, delighted at his apparent success, answered glibly:
+"He say he goin' down to Great Buffalo Lake this summer."
+
+An instant's reflection satisfied Stonor that if this were true it would
+have been brought out first instead of last. "Oh, well, since we've come
+as far as this we'll go the rest of the way to make sure," he said
+calmly.
+
+Ahteeah looked disappointed. They pushed off. The Indians watched them
+go in sullen silence.
+
+"Certainly we are not popular in this neighbourhood," said Stonor
+lightly. "One can't get rid of the feeling that their minds have been
+poisoned against us. Mary, can't you tell me why they give me such black
+looks?"
+
+She shook her head. "I think there is something," she said. "But they
+not tell me because I with you."
+
+"Maybe it has something to do with me?" said Clare.
+
+"How could that be? They never heard of you."
+
+"I think it is Stonor," said Mary.
+
+Clare was harder to rouse out of herself to-day. Stonor did his best not
+to show that he perceived anything amiss, and strove to cheer her with
+chaff and foolishness--likewise to keep his own heart up, but not
+altogether with success.
+
+On one occasion Clare sought to reassure him by saying, _à propos_ of
+nothing that had gone before: "The worst of having an imagination is,
+that when you have anything to go through with, it keeps presenting the
+most horrible alternatives in advance until you are almost incapable of
+facing the thing. And after all it is never so bad as your imagination
+pictures."
+
+"I understand that," said Stonor, "though I don't suppose anybody would
+accuse me of being imaginative."
+
+"'Something to go through with!'" he thought. "'Horrible alternatives!'
+'Never so bad as your imagination pictures!' What strange phrases for a
+woman to use who is going to rejoin her husband!"
+
+When they embarked after the second spell Clare asked if she might sit
+facing forward in the dug-out, so she could see better where they were
+going. But Stonor guessed this was merely an excuse to escape from
+having his solicitous eyes on her face.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next morning they overtook the last Kakisa that they were to see on the
+way down. He was drifting along close to the shore, and behind him in
+his canoe sat his little boy as still as a mouse, receiving his
+education in hunter's lore. This man was a more intelligent specimen
+than they had met hitherto. He was a comely little fellow with an
+extraordinary head of hair cut _à la_ Buster Brown, and his name, he
+said, was Etzooah. Stonor remembered having heard of him and his hair as
+far away as Fort Enterprise. His manners were good. While naturally
+astonished at their appearance, he did not on that account lose his
+self-possession. They conversed politely while drifting down side by
+side.
+
+Etzooah, in sharp contrast to all the other Kakisas, appeared to see
+nothing out of the way in their wish to visit the White Medicine Man,
+nor did he try to dissuade them.
+
+"How far is it to the Great Falls?" asked Stonor.
+
+"One sleep."
+
+"Are the rapids too bad for a boat?"
+
+"Rapids bad, but not too bad. I go down in my bark-canoe, I guess you go
+all right in dug-out. Long tam ago my fat'er tell me all the Kakisa
+people go to the Big Falls ev'ry year at the time when the berries ripe.
+By the Big Falls they meet the people from Great Buffalo Lake and make
+big talk there and make dance to do honour to the Old Man under the
+falls. And this people trade leather for fur with the people from Great
+Buffalo Lake. But now this people is scare to go there. But I am not
+scare. I go there. Three times I go there. Each time I leave a little
+present of tobacco for the Old Man so he know my heart is good towards
+him. I guess Old Man like a brave man better than a woman. No harm come
+to me since I go. My wife, my children got plenty to eat; I catch good
+fur. Bam-bye I take my boy there too. Some men say I crazy for that, but
+I say no. It is a fine sight. It make a man's heart big to see that
+sight."
+
+This was a man after Stonor's own heart. "Tell him those are good
+words," he said heartily.
+
+When they asked him about the White Man who lived beside the falls,
+Etzooah's eyes sparkled. "He say he my friend, and I proud. Since he say
+that I think more of myself. I walk straight. I am not afraid. He is
+good. He make the sick well. He give the people good talk. He tell how
+to live clean and all, so there is no more sickness. He moch like
+children. He good to my boy. Give him little face that say 'Ticky-ticky'
+and follow the sun."
+
+Etzooah issued a command to his small son, and the boy shyly exhibited a
+large cheap nickel watch.
+
+"No other Kakisa man or boy got that," said the parent proudly.
+
+"Is it true that this white man hates other white men?" asked Stonor.
+
+Etzooah made an emphatic negative. "He got no hate. He say red man white
+man all the same man."
+
+"Then he'll be glad to see us?"
+
+"I think he glad. Got good heart to all."
+
+"Is he at home now?"
+
+"He is at home. I see him go down the river three sleeps ago."
+
+Those in the dug-out exchanged looks of astonishment. "Ask him if he is
+sure?" said Stonor.
+
+Etzooah persisted in his statement. "I not speak him for cause I hiding
+in bush watchin' bear. And he is across the river. But I see good. See
+white face. I know him because he not paddle like Kakisa one side other
+side; him paddle all time same side and turn the paddle so to make go
+straight."
+
+"Where had he been?"
+
+"Up to Horse Track, I guess."
+
+Horse Track, of course, was the trail from the river to Fort Enterprise.
+The village at the end of the trail received the same designation. If
+the tale of this visit was true it might have something to do with the
+hostility they had met with above.
+
+"But we have just come from the Horse Track," said Stonor, to feel the
+man out. "Nobody told us he had been there."
+
+Etzooah shrugged. "Maybe they scare. Not know what to say to white man."
+
+But Stonor thought, if anything, they had known too well what to say.
+"How long had he been up there?" he asked.
+
+"I not know. I not know him gone up river till see him come back."
+
+"Maybe he only went a little way up."
+
+Etzooah shook his head vigorously. "His canoe was loaded heavy."
+
+Etzooah accompanied them to the point where the current began to
+increase its pace preparatory to the first rapid.
+
+"This the end my hunting-ground," he said. "Too much work to come back
+up the rapids." He saluted them courteously, and caused the little boy
+to do likewise. His parting remark was: "Tell the White Medicine Man
+Etzooah never forget he call him friend."
+
+"Well, we've found one gentleman among the Kakisas," Stonor said to
+Clare, as they paddled on.
+
+The first rapid was no great affair. There was plenty of water, and they
+were carried racing smoothly down between low rocky banks. Stonor named
+the place the Grumbler from the deep throaty sound it gave forth.
+
+In quiet water below they discussed what they had heard.
+
+"It gets thicker and thicker," said Stonor. "It seems to me that
+Imbrie's having been at the Horse Track lately must have had something
+to do with the chilly reception we received."
+
+"Why should it?" said Clare. "He has nothing to fear from the coming of
+anybody."
+
+"Then why did they say nothing about his visit?"
+
+She shook her head. "You know I cannot fathom these people."
+
+"Neither can I, for that matter. But it does seem as if he must have
+told them not to tell anybody they had seen him."
+
+"It is not like him."
+
+"Ahteeah said Imbrie hated white men; Etzooah said his heart was kind to
+all men: which is the truer description?"
+
+"Etzooah's," she said instantly. "He has a simple, kind heart. He lives
+up to the rule 'Love thy neighbour' better than any man I ever knew."
+
+"Well, we'll know to-morrow," said Stonor, making haste to drop the
+disconcerting subject. Privately he asked himself: "Why, if Imbrie is
+such a good man, does she seem to dread meeting him?" There was no
+answer forthcoming.
+
+The rapids became progressively wilder and rougher as they went on down,
+and Stonor was not without anxiety as to the coming back. Sometimes they
+came on white water unexpectedly around a bend, but the river was not so
+crooked now, and more often far ahead they saw the white rabbits dancing
+in the sunshine, causing their breasts to constrict with a foretaste of
+fear. As the current bore them inexorably closer, and they picked out
+the rocks and the great white combers awaiting them, there was always a
+moment when they longed to turn aside from their fate. But once having
+plunged into the welter, fear vanished, and a great exhilaration took
+its place. They shouted madly to each other--even stolid Mary, and were
+sorry when they came to the bottom. Between rapids the smooth stretches
+seemed insufferably tedious to pass.
+
+Stonor's endeavour was to steer a middle course between the great
+billows in the middle of the channel, which he feared might swamp the
+Serpent or break her in half, and the rocks at each side which would
+have smashed her to pieces. Luckily he had had a couple of days in which
+to learn the vagaries of his craft. In descending a swift current one
+has to bear in mind that any boat begins to answer her helm some yards
+ahead of the spot where the impulse is applied.
+
+As the day wore on he bethought himself that "one sleep" was an elastic
+term of distance, and in order to avoid the possibility of being carried
+over the falls he adopted the rule of landing at the head of each rapid,
+and walking down the shore to pick his channel, and to make sure that
+there was smooth water below. They had been told that there was no rapid
+immediately above the falls, that the water slipped over without giving
+warning, but Stonor dismissed this into the limbo of red-skin romancing.
+He did not believe it possible for a river to go over a fall without
+some preliminary disturbance.
+
+As it happened, dusk descended on them in the middle of a smooth reach,
+and they made camp for the last time on the descent, pitching the three
+tents under the pines in the form of a little square open on the river
+side. Clare was very silent during the meal, and Stonor's gaiety sounded
+hollow in his own ears. They turned in immediately after eating.
+
+Stonor awoke in the middle of the night without being able to tell what
+had awakened him. He had a sense that something was wrong. It was a
+breathless cool night. Under the pines it was very dark, but outside of
+their shadow the river gleamed wanly. Such sounds as he heard, the
+murmur of a far-off rapid, and a whisper in the topmost boughs of the
+pines, conveyed a suggestion of empty immeasurable distances. The fire
+had burned down to its last embers.
+
+Suddenly he became aware of what was the matter; Clare was weeping. It
+was the merest hint of a sound, softer than falling leaves, just a catch
+of the breath that escaped her now and then. Stonor lay listening with
+bated breath, as if terrified of losing that which tore his heartstrings
+to hear. He was afflicted with a ghastly sense of impotence. He had no
+right to intrude on her grief. Yet how could he lie supine when she was
+in trouble, and make believe not to hear? He could not lie still. He got
+up, taking no care to be quiet, and built up the fire. She could not
+know, of course, that he had heard that broken breath. Perhaps she would
+speak to him. Or, if she could not speak, perhaps she would take comfort
+from the mere fact of his waking presence outside.
+
+He heard no further sound from her tent.
+
+After a while, because it was impossible for him not to say it, he
+softly asked: "Are you asleep?"
+
+There was no answer.
+
+He sat down by the fire listening and brooding--humming a little tune
+meanwhile to assure her of the blitheness of his spirits.
+
+By and by a small voice issued from under her tent: "Please go back to
+bed,"--and he knew at once that she saw through his poor shift to
+deceive her.
+
+"Honest, I don't feel like sleeping," he said cheerfully.
+
+"Did I wake you?"
+
+"No," he lied. "Were you up?"
+
+"You were worrying about me," she said.
+
+"Nothing to speak of. I thought perhaps the silence and the solitude had
+got on your nerves a little. It's that kind of a night."
+
+"I don't mind it," she said; "with you near--and Mary," she quickly
+added. "Please go back to bed."
+
+He crept to her tent. It was purely an involuntary act. He was on his
+knees, but he did not think of that. "Ah, Clare, if I could only take
+your trouble from you!" he murmured.
+
+"Hush!" she whispered. "Put me and my troubles out of your head. It is
+nothing. It is like the rapids; one loses one's nerve when they loom up
+ahead. I shall be all right when I am in them."
+
+"Clare, let me sit here on the ground beside you--not touching you."
+
+"No--please! Go back to your tent. It will be easier for me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the morning they arose heavily, and set about the business of
+breakfasting and breaking camp with little speech. Indeed, there was
+nothing to say. Neither Stonor nor Clare could make believe now to be
+otherwise than full of dread of what the day had in store. Embarking,
+Clare took a paddle too, and all three laboured doggedly, careless alike
+of rough water and smooth.
+
+In the middle of the day they heard, for some minutes before the place
+itself hove in view, the roar of a rapid greater than any they had
+passed.
+
+"This will be something!" said Stonor.
+
+But as they swept around the bend above they never saw the rapid, for
+among the trees on the bank at the beginning of the swift water there
+stood a little new log shack. That sight struck them like a blow. There
+was no one visible outside the shack, but the door stood open.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE LOG SHACK
+
+
+It struck them as odd that no one appeared out of the shack. For a man
+living beside a river generally has his eye unconsciously on the stream,
+just as a man who dwells by a lonely road lets few pass by unseen.
+Stonor sent him a hail, as is the custom of the country--but no
+surprised glad face showed itself.
+
+"He is away," said Stonor, merely to break the racking silence between
+him and Clare.
+
+"Would he leave the door open?" she said.
+
+They landed. On the beach lay two birch-bark canoes, Kakisa-made. One
+had freshly-cut willow-branches lying in the bottom. Stonor happened to
+notice that the bow-thwart of this canoe was notched in a peculiar way.
+He was to remember it later. Ordinarily the Kakisa canoes are as like as
+peas out of the same pod.
+
+From the beach the shack was invisible by reason of the low bank
+between. Stonor accompanied Clare half-way up the bank. "Mary and I will
+wait here," he said.
+
+She looked at him deeply without speaking. It had the effect of a
+farewell. Stonor saw that she was breathing fast, and that her lips were
+continually closing and parting again. Leaving him, she walked slowly
+and stiffly to the door of the shack. Her little hands were clenched. He
+waited, suffering torments of anxiety for her.
+
+She knocked on the door-frame, and waited. She pushed the door further
+open, and looked in. She went in, and was gone for a few seconds.
+Reappearing, she shook her head at Stonor. He went up and joined her.
+Mary, who, in spite of her stolidity, was as inquisitive as the next
+woman, followed him without being bid.
+
+They all entered the shack. Stonor sniffed.
+
+"What is that smell?" asked Clare. "I noticed it at once."
+
+"Kinni-kinnick."
+
+She looked at him enquiringly.
+
+"Native substitute for tobacco. It's made from the inner bark of the red
+willow. He must have run out of white man's tobacco."
+
+She pointed to a can standing on the table. Stonor, lifting it, found it
+nearly full.
+
+"Funny he should smoke kinni-kinnick when he has Kemble's mixture. He
+must be saving that for a last resort."
+
+Stonor looked around him with a strong curiosity. The room had a grace
+that was astonishing to find in that far-removed spot; moreover,
+everything had been contrived out of the rough materials at hand. Two
+superb black bear-skins lay on the floor. The bed which stood against
+the back wall was hidden under a beautiful robe made out of scores of
+little skins cunningly sewed together, lynx-paws with a border of
+marten. There were two workmanlike chairs fashioned out of willow; one
+with a straight back at the desk, the other, comfortable and capacious,
+before the fire. The principal piece of furniture was a birch desk or
+table, put together with infinite patience with no other tools but an
+axe and a knife, and rubbed with oil to a satiny finish. On it stood a
+pair of carved wooden candlesticks holding candles of bears' tallow, a
+wooden inkwell, and a carved frame displaying a little photograph--of
+Clare!
+
+Seeing it, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm glad I came," she murmured.
+
+Stonor turned away.
+
+A pen lay on the desk where it had been dropped, and beside it was a red
+leather note-book or diary, of which Clare possessed herself. More than
+anything else, what lent the room its air of amenity was a little shelf
+of books and magazines above the table. There was no glass in the
+window, of course, but a piece of gauze had been stretched over the
+opening to keep out the insects at night. For cold weather there was a
+heavy shutter swung on wooden hinges. The fireplace, built of stones and
+clay, was in the corner. The arch was cunningly contrived out of thin
+slabs of stone standing on edge. Stonor immediately noticed that the
+ashes were still giving out heat.
+
+The room they were in comprised only half the shack. There was a door
+communicating with the other half. Opening it, they saw that this part
+evidently served the owner as a work-room and store-room. Cut wood was
+neatly piled against one wall. Snowshoes, roughly-fashioned fur
+garments, steel traps and other winter gear were hanging from pegs.
+There was a window facing the river, this one uncovered, and under it
+was a work-bench on which lay the remains of a meal and unwashed
+dishes--humble testimony to the near presence of another fellow-creature
+in the wilderness. On the floor at one side was a heap of supplies; that
+is to say, store-grub; evidently what Imbrie had lately brought down,
+and had not yet put away. There was a door in the back wall of this
+room, the side of the shack away from the river.
+
+Stonor, looking around, said: "I suppose he used this as a sort of
+vestibule in the winter, to keep the wind and the snow out of his
+living-room."
+
+"Where can he be?" said Clare nervously.
+
+They both spoke instinctively in subdued tones, like intruders fearful
+of being overheard.
+
+"He can't have been gone long. He was smoking here just now. The
+fireplace is still warm."
+
+"He can't have intended to stay long, for he left everything open."
+
+"Well, he would hardly expect to be disturbed up here."
+
+"But animals?"
+
+"No wild thing would venture close to the fresh man smell. Still, it's
+natural to close up when you go away."
+
+"What do you think?" she asked tremulously.
+
+The sight of her wide, strained eyes, and the little teeth pressed into
+her lower lip, were inexpressibly painful to him. Clearly it was too
+much to ask of the high-strung woman, after she had nerved herself up to
+the ordeal, to go on waiting indefinitely in suspense.
+
+"There are dozens of natural explanations," he said quickly. "Very
+likely he's just gone into the bush to hunt for his dinner."
+
+Her hand involuntarily went to her breast. "I feel," she whispered, "as
+if there were something dreadfully--dreadfully wrong."
+
+Stonor went outside and lustily holloaed. He received no answer.
+
+It was impossible for them to sit still while they waited. Having seen
+everything in the house, they walked about outside. Off to the left
+Imbrie had painstakingly cleared a little garden. Strange it was to see
+the familiar potato, onion, turnip and cabbage sprouting in orderly rows
+beside the unexplored river.
+
+Time passed. From a sense of duty they prepared a meal on the shore, and
+made a pretence of eating it, each for the other's benefit. Stonor did
+his best to keep up Clare's spirits, while at the same time his own
+mystification was growing. For in circling the shack he could find no
+fresh track anywhere into the bush. Tracks there were in plenty, where
+the man had gone for wood, or to hunt perhaps, but all more than
+twenty-four hours old. To be sure, there was the river, but it was not
+likely he had still a third canoe: and if he had gone up the river, how
+could they have missed him? As for going down, no canoe could live in
+that rapid, Stonor was sure; moreover, he supposed the falls were at the
+foot of it.
+
+Another thing; both his shot-gun and his rifle were leaning against the
+fireplace. He might have another gun, but it was not likely. As the
+hours passed, and the man neither returned nor answered Stonor's
+frequent shouts, the policeman began to wonder if an accident could have
+occurred to him. But he had certainly been alive and well within a
+half-hour of their arrival, and it seemed too fortuitous a circumstance
+that anything should have happened just at that juncture. A more
+probable explanation was that the man had seen them coming, and had
+reasons of his own for wishing to keep out of the way. After all, Stonor
+had no precise knowledge of the situation existing between Imbrie and
+Clare. But if he had hidden himself, where had he hidden himself?
+
+While it was still full day Stonor persuaded Clare and Mary to remain in
+the shack for a time, while he made a more careful search for Imbrie's
+tracks. This time he thoroughly satisfied himself that that day no one
+had struck into the bush surrounding the shack. He came upon the end of
+the old carry trail around the falls, and followed it away. But it would
+have been clear to even a tyro in the bush that no one had used it
+lately. There remained the beach. It was possible to walk along the
+stony beach without leaving a visible track. Stonor searched the beach
+for half a mile in either direction without being able to find a single
+track in any wet or muddy place, and without discovering any place
+where one had struck up the bank into the bush. On the down-river side
+he was halted by a low, sheer wall of rock washed by the current. He
+made sure that no one had tried to climb around this miniature
+precipice. From this point the rapids still swept on down out of sight.
+
+He returned to the shack completely baffled, and hoping against hope to
+find Imbrie returned. But Clare still sat huddled in the chair where he
+had left her, and looked to him eagerly for news. He could only shake
+his head.
+
+Finally the sun went down.
+
+"If he is not here by dark," said Clare with a kind of desperate
+calmness, "we will know something is the matter. His hat, his
+ammunition-belt, his hunting-knife are all here. He could not have
+intended to remain away."
+
+Darkness slowly gathered. Nothing happened. At intervals Stonor
+shouted--only to be mocked by the silence. Just to be doing something he
+built a great fire outside the shack. If Imbrie should be on the way
+back it would at least warn him of the presence of visitors.
+
+Stonor was suddenly struck by the fact that Mary had not expressed
+herself as to the situation. It was impossible to tell from the smooth
+copper mask of her face of what she was thinking.
+
+"Mary, what do you make of it?" he asked.
+
+She shrugged, declining to commit herself. "All the people say Eembrie
+got ver' strong medicine," she said. "Say he make himself look like
+anything he want."
+
+Stonor and Clare exchanged a rueful smile. "I'm afraid that doesn't help
+much," said the former.
+
+Mosquitoes drove them indoors. Stonor closed the door of the shack, and
+built up the fire in the fireplace. Stonor no longer expected the man to
+return, but Clare was still tremulously on the _qui vive_ for the
+slightest sound. Mary went off to bed in the store-room. The others
+remained sitting before the fire in Imbrie's two chairs. For them sleep
+was out of the question. Each had privately determined to sit up all
+night.
+
+For a long time they remained there without speaking.
+
+Stonor had said nothing to Clare about the conclusions he had arrived at
+concerning Imbrie, but she gathered from his attitude that he was
+passing judgment against the man they had come in search of, and she
+said at last:
+
+"Did you notice that little book that I picked up off the desk?"
+
+Stonor nodded.
+
+"It was his diary. Shall I read you from it?"
+
+"If you think it is right."
+
+"Yes. Just an extract or two. To show you the kind of man he is."
+
+The book was in the side pocket of her coat. Opening it, and leaning
+forward to get the light of the fire, she read:
+
+"April 29th: The ice is preparing to go out. Great booming cracks have
+been issuing from the river all day at intervals. When the jam at the
+head of the rapids goes it will be a great sight. To-morrow I'll take a
+bite to eat with me, and go down to the falls to watch what happens.
+Thank God for the coming of Spring! I'm pretty nearly at the end of my
+resources. I've read and re-read my few books and papers until I can
+almost repeat the contents by heart. I've finished my desk, and the
+candlesticks, and the frame for Clare's picture. But now I'll be able to
+make my garden. And I can sod a little lawn in front of the house with
+buffalo-grass."
+
+Clare looked at Stonor for an expression of opinion.
+
+The policeman murmured diffidently: "A real good sort."
+
+"Wait!" she said. "Listen to this. One of the first entries." She read
+in a moved voice:
+
+"They say that a man who lives cut off from his kind is bound to
+degenerate swiftly, but, by God! I won't have it so in my case. I'll be
+on my guard against the first symptoms. I shave every day and will
+continue to do so. Shaving is a symbol. I will keep my person and my
+house as trim as if I expected her to visit me hourly. Half of each day
+I'll spend in useful manual labour of some kind, and half in reading and
+contemplation. The power is mine to build or destroy myself with my
+thoughts. Well, I choose to build!"
+
+Clare looked at Stonor again.
+
+"That is fine!" he said simply.
+
+"So you see--why I had to come," she murmured.
+
+He did not see why the one followed necessarily on the other, nor did he
+understand why she felt impelled to explain it just then. But it seemed
+better to hold his peace. This revealing of Imbrie's worthy nature
+greatly perplexed Stonor. It had been so easy to believe that the two
+must have been parted as a result of something evil in Imbrie. He could
+not believe that it had been Clare's fault, however she might accuse
+herself. He was not yet experienced enough to conceive of a situation
+where two honest souls might come to a parting of the ways without
+either being especially to blame.
+
+For another long period they sat in silence. The influence of the night
+made itself felt even through the log walls of the shack. They were
+aware of solitude as of a physical presence. The fire had burned down to
+still embers, and down the chimney floated the inexpressibly mournful
+breath of the pines. The rapids made a hoarser note beyond. Clare
+shivered, and leaned closer over the fire. Stonor made a move to put on
+more wood, but she stopped him.
+
+"Don't!" she said, with queer inconsistency. "It makes too much noise."
+
+Suddenly the awful stillness was broken by a heavy thudding sound on the
+ground outside. A gasping cry was forced from Clare. Stonor sprang up,
+knocking over his chair, and made for the door. Getting it opened, he
+ran outside. Off to his right he saw, or thought he saw, a suspicious
+shadow, and he instantly made for it. Whereupon a sudden crashing into
+the underbrush persuaded him it was no apparition.
+
+Clare's voice, sharp with terror, arrested him. "Martin, don't leave
+me!"
+
+He went back to her, suddenly realizing that to chase an unknown thing
+bare-handed through the bush at night was scarcely the part of prudence.
+He got his gun, and flung himself down across the sill of the open door,
+looking out. Nothing further was to be seen or heard. Beyond the little
+clearing the river gleamed in the faint dusk. The canoes on the beach
+were invisible from the door, being under the bank.
+
+"What do you think it was?" whispered Clare.
+
+"Something fell or jumped out of that big spruce nearest the back of the
+house." To himself he added: "A natural place to hide. What a fool I was
+not to think of that before!"
+
+"But what?" said Clare.
+
+Stonor said grimly: "There are only two tree-climbing animals in this
+country heavy enough to make the sound we heard--bears and men."
+
+"A bear?"
+
+"Maybe. But I never heard of a bear climbing a tree beside a house, and
+at night, too. Don't know what he went up for."
+
+"Oh, it couldn't be----" Clare began. She never finished.
+
+Stonor kept his vigil at the open door. He bade Clare throw ashes on the
+embers, that no light from behind might show him up. When she had done
+it she crept across the floor and sat close beside him. Mary,
+apparently, had not been awakened.
+
+Minutes passed, and they heard no sounds except the rapids and the
+pines. Clare was perfectly quiet, and Stonor could not tell how she was
+bearing the strain. He bethought himself that he had perhaps spoken his
+mind too clearly. To reassure her he said:
+
+"It must have been a bear."
+
+"You do not think so really," she said. A despairing little wail escaped
+her. "I don't understand! Oh, I don't understand! Why should he hide
+from us?"
+
+Stonor could find little of comfort to say. "Morning will make
+everything clear, I expect. We shall be laughing at our fears then."
+
+The minutes grew into hours, and they remained in the same positions.
+Nature is merciful to humans, and little by little the strain was eased.
+The sharpness of their anxiety was dulled. They were conscious only of a
+dogged longing for the dawn. At intervals Stonor suggested to Clare that
+she go lie down on the bed, but when she begged to remain beside him, he
+had not the heart to insist. In all that time they heard nothing beyond
+the natural sounds of the night; the stirrings of little furry footfalls
+among the leaves; the distant bark of a fox.
+
+And then without the slightest warning the night was shattered by a
+blood-curdling shriek of terror from Mary Moosa in the room adjoining.
+Stonor's first thought was for the effect on Clare's nerves. He jumped
+up, savagely cursing the Indian woman. He ran to the communicating door.
+Clare was close at his heels.
+
+Mary was lying on the floor, covering her head with her arms, moaning
+in an extremity of terror, and gibbering in her own tongue. For a while
+she could not tell them what was the matter. Stonor thought she was
+dreaming. Then she began to cry in English: "Door! Door!" and to point
+to it. Stonor made for the door, but Clare with a cry clung to him, and
+Mary herself, scrambling on all fours, clutched him around the knees.
+Stonor felt exquisitely foolish.
+
+"Well, let me secure it," he said gruffly.
+
+This door was fitted with a bar, which he swung into place. At the
+window across the room, he swung the shutter in, and fastened that also.
+
+"You see," he said. "No one can get in here now."
+
+They took the shaking Mary into the next room. To give them a better
+sense of security, Stonor tore the cotton out of the window and fastened
+this shutter also. There was no bar on this door. He preferred to leave
+it open, and to mount guard in the doorway.
+
+Gradually Mary calmed down sufficiently to tell them what had happened.
+"Little noise wake me. I not know what it is. I listen. Hear it again.
+Come from door. I watch. Bam-bye I see the door open so slow, so slow. I
+so scare can't cry. My tongue is froze. I see a hand pushin' the door. I
+see a head stick in and listen. Then I get my tongue again. I cry out.
+Door close. I hear somebody runnin' outside."
+
+Stonor and Clare looked at each other. "Not much doubt about the kind of
+animal now," said the former deprecatingly.
+
+Clare spread out her hands. "He must be mad," she whispered.
+
+Mary and Clare clung to each other like sisters. Stonor remained at the
+door watching the clear space between the shack and the river. Nothing
+stirred there. Stonor heard no more untoward sounds.
+
+Fortunately for the nerves of the women the nights were short. While
+they watched and prayed for the dawn, and told themselves it would never
+come, it was suddenly there. It came, and they could not see it come.
+The light stole between the trees; the leaves dressed themselves with
+colour. A little breeze came from the river, and seemed to blow the last
+of the murk away. By half-past three it was full day.
+
+"I must go out and look around," said Stonor.
+
+Clare implored him not to leave them.
+
+"It is necessary," he said firmly.
+
+"Your red coat is so conspicuous," she faltered.
+
+"It is my safeguard," he said; "that is, against humans. As for animals,
+I can protect myself." He showed them his service revolver.
+
+He left them weeping. He went first to the big spruce-tree behind the
+house. He immediately saw, as he had expected, that a man had leaped out
+of the lower branches. There were the two deep prints of moccasined
+feet; two hand-prints also where he had fallen forward. He had no doubt
+come down faster than he had intended. It was child's play after that to
+follow his headlong course through the bush. Soon Stonor saw that he had
+slackened his pace--no doubt at the moment when Stonor turned back to
+the shack. Still the track was written clear. It made a wide detour
+through the bush, and came back to the door of the room where Mary had
+been sleeping. The man had taken a couple of hours to make perhaps three
+hundred yards. He had evidently wormed himself along an inch at a time,
+to avoid giving an alarm.
+
+When Mary cried out he had taken back to the bush on the other side of
+the shack. Stonor, following the tracks, circled through the bush on
+this side, and was finally led to the edge of the river-bank. The
+instant that he pushed through the bushes he saw that one of the
+bark-canoes was missing. Running to the place where they lay, he saw
+that it was the one with the willow-bushes that was gone. No need to
+look any further. There was nothing in view for the short distance that
+he could see up-river.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE FOOT
+
+
+Stonor, returning to the shack, was hailed with joy as one who might
+have come back from Hades unscathed. He told Clare just what he had
+found.
+
+"What do you think?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Isn't it clear? He saw us coming and took to the tree. There were so
+many tracks around the base of the tree that I was put off. He must have
+been hidden there all the time we were looking for him and shouting. As
+soon as it got dark he tried to make his get-away, but his calculations
+were somewhat upset by his falling. Even after we had taken warning, he
+had to risk getting into his store-room, because all his food was there.
+No doubt he thought we would all be in the other room, and he could
+sneak in and take what he could carry. When he was scared off by Mary's
+scream he started his journey without it, that's all."
+
+"But why _should_ he run from us--from me?"
+
+Stonor shrugged helplessly.
+
+She produced the little red book again. "Read something here," she said,
+turning the pages.
+
+Under her directing finger, while she looked aside, he read: "The
+hardest thing I have to contend against is my hunger for her. Discipline
+is of little avail against that. I spend whole days wrestling with
+myself, trying to get the better of it, and think I have conquered, only
+to be awakened at night by wanting her worse than ever."
+
+"Does that sound as if he wished to escape me?" she murmured.
+
+In her distress of mind it did not occur to her, of course, that this
+was rather a cruel situation for Stonor. He did not answer for a moment;
+then said in a low tone: "I am afraid his mind is unhinged. You
+suggested it."
+
+"I know," she said quickly. "But I have been thinking it over. It can't
+be. Listen to this." She hastily turned the pages of the little book.
+"What day is this?"
+
+"The third of July."
+
+"This was written June 30th, only four days ago. It is the last entry in
+the book. Listen!" She read, while the tears started to her eyes:
+
+"I must try to get in some good books on natural history. If I could
+make better friends with the little wild things around me I need never
+be lonely. There is a young rabbit who seems disposed to hit it off with
+me. I toss him a bit of biscuit after breakfast every morning. He comes
+and waits for it now. He eats it daintily in my sight; then, with a
+flirt of his absurd tail for 'thank you,' scampers down to the river to
+wash it down."
+
+"Those are not the thoughts of a man out of his mind."
+
+"No," he admitted, "but everything you have read shows him to be of a
+sensitive, high-strung nature. On such a man the sudden shock of our
+coming----"
+
+"Oh, then I have waited too long!" she cried despairingly. "And now I
+can never repay!"
+
+"Not necessarily," said Stonor with a dogged patience. "Such cases are
+common in the North. But I never knew one to be incurable."
+
+She took this in, and it comforted her partly; but her thoughts were
+still busy with matters remote from Stonor. After a while she asked
+abruptly: "What do you think we ought to do?"
+
+"Start up the river at once," he said. "We'll hear news of him on the
+way. We'll overtake him in the end."
+
+She stared at him with troubled eyes, pondering this suggestion. At last
+she slowly shook her head. "I don't think we ought to go," she murmured.
+
+"What!" he cried, astonished. "You wish to stay here--after last night!
+Why?"
+
+"I don't know," she said helplessly.
+
+"But if the man is really not right, he needs looking after. We ought to
+hurry after him."
+
+"It seems so," she said, still with the air of those who speak what is
+strange to themselves; "but I have an intuition, a premonition--I don't
+know what to call it! Something tells me that we do not yet know the
+truth."
+
+Stonor turned away helplessly. He could not argue against a woman's
+reason like this.
+
+"Ah, don't be impatient with me," she said appealingly. "Just wait
+to-day. If nothing happens during the day to throw any light on what
+puzzles us, I will make no more objections. I'll be willing to start
+this afternoon, and camp up the river."
+
+"It will give him twelve hours' start of us."
+
+Her surprising answer was: "I don't think he's gone."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor made his way over the old portage trail. He wished to have a look
+at the Great Falls before returning up-river. Clare, waiting for what
+she could not have told, had chosen to remain at the shack, and Mary
+Moosa was not afraid to stay with her by daylight. Like Stonor, Mary
+believed that the man had undoubtedly left the neighbourhood, and that
+no further danger was to be apprehended from that quarter.
+
+Stonor went along abstractedly, climbing over the obstructions or
+cutting a way through, almost oblivious to his surroundings. His heart
+was jealous and sore. His instinct told him that the man who had
+prowled around the shack the night before was an evil-doer; yet Clare
+persisted in exalting him to the skies. In his present temper it seemed
+to Stonor as if Clare purposely made his task as hard as possible for
+him. In fact, the trooper had a grievance against the whole world.
+
+Suddenly he realized that his brain was simply chasing itself in
+circles. Stopping short, he shook himself much like a dog on issuing
+from the water. His will was to shake off the horrors of the past night
+and his dread of the future. Better sense told him that only weakness
+lay in dwelling on these things. Let things fall as they would, he would
+meet them like a man, he hoped, and no more could be asked of him. In
+the meantime he would not worry himself into a stew. He went on with a
+lighter breast.
+
+From the cutting in the trail Stonor saw that someone had travelled that
+way a while before, probably during the previous season, for the cuts on
+green wood were half-healed. It was clear, from the amount of cutting he
+had been obliged to do, that this traveller was the first that way in
+many years. Stonor further saw from the style of his axe-work that he
+was a white man; a white man chops a sapling with one stroke clean
+through: a red man makes two chops, half-way through on each side. This
+was pretty conclusive evidence that Imbrie had first come from
+down-river.
+
+This trail had not been used since, and Stonor, remembering the
+suggestion in Imbrie's diary that he frequently visited the falls,
+supposed that he had some other way of reaching there. He determined to
+see if it was practicable to make his way along the beach on the way
+back.
+
+The trail did not take him directly to the falls, but in a certain place
+he saw signs of an old side-path striking off towards the river, and,
+following this, he was brought out on a plateau of rock immediately
+above the spot where the river stepped off into space. Here he stood for
+a moment to prepare himself for the sight before looking over. His eye
+was caught by some ends of string fluttering from the branches of a bush
+beside him. He was at a loss to account for their presence until he
+remembered Etzooah and his humble offerings to the Old Man. Here Etzooah
+had tied his tobacco-bags.
+
+Approaching the brink, the river smoothed itself a little as if
+gathering its forces for the leap, and over the edge itself it slipped
+smoothly. It was true to a certain extent that the cataract muffled its
+own voice, but the earth trembled. The gorge below offered a superb
+prospect. After the invariable flatness and tameness of the shores
+above, the sudden cleft in the world impressed the beholder stunningly.
+
+Then Stonor went to the extreme edge and looked over. A deep, dull roar
+smote upon his ears; he was bewildered and satisfied. Knowing the Indian
+propensity to exaggerate, he had half expected to find merely a cascade
+wilder than anything above; or perhaps a wide straggling series of
+falls. It was neither. The entire river gathered itself up, and plunged
+sheer into deep water below. The river narrowed down at the brink, and
+the volume of water was stupendous. The drop was over one hundred feet.
+The water was of the colour of strong tea, and as it fell it drew over
+its brown sheen a lovely, creamy fleece of foam. Tight little curls of
+spray puffed out of the falling water like jets of smoke, and, spreading
+and descending, merged into the white cloud that rolled about the foot
+of the falls. This cloud itself billowed up in successive undulations
+like full draperies, only to spread out and vanish in the sunshine.
+
+Stonor had the solemn feeling that comes to the man who knows himself to
+be among the first of his race to gaze on a great natural wonder. He
+and Imbrie alone had seen this sight. What of the riddle of Imbrie?
+Doctor, magician, skulker in the night, madman perhaps--and Clare's
+husband! Must he be haunted by him all his life? But the noble spectacle
+before Stonor's eyes calmed his nerves. All will be clear in the end, he
+told himself. And nothing could destroy his thought of Clare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He would liked to have remained for hours, but everything drew him back
+to the shack. He started back along the beach. On the whole it was
+easier going than by the encumbered trail. There were no obstacles
+except the low precipice that has been mentioned, and that proved to be
+no great matter to climb around. Meanwhile every foot of the rapid
+offered a fascinating study to the river-man. This rapid seemed to go
+against all the customary rules for rapids. Nowhere in all its torn
+expanse could Stonor pick a channel; the rocks stuck up everywhere. He
+noticed that one could have returned in a canoe in safety from the very
+brink of the falls by means of the back-waters that crept up the shore.
+
+His attention was caught by a log-jam out in the rapid. He had scarcely
+noticed it the day before while searching for tracks. Two great rocks,
+that stuck out of the water close together where the current ran
+swiftest, had at some time caught an immense fallen tree squarely on
+their shoulders, and the pressure of the current held it there. Another
+tree had caught on the obstruction, and another, and now the fantastic
+pile reared itself high out of the water.
+
+At the moment Stonor had no weightier matter on his mind than to puzzle
+how this had come about. Suddenly his blood ran cold to perceive what
+looked like a human foot sticking out of the water at the bottom of the
+pile. He violently rubbed his eyes, thinking that they deceived him.
+But there was no mistake. It _was_ a foot, clad in a moccasin of the
+ordinary style of the country. While Stonor looked it was agitated back
+and forth as in a final struggle. With a sickened breast, he
+instinctively looked around for some means of rescue. But he immediately
+realized that the owner of the foot was long past aid. The movement was
+due simply to the action of the current.
+
+His brain whirled dizzily. A foot? Whose foot? Imbrie's? There was no
+other man anywhere near. But Imbrie knew the place so well he could not
+have been carried down, unless he had chosen to end his life that way.
+And his anxiety to obtain food the night before did not suggest that he
+had any intention of putting himself out of the way. Perhaps it was an
+Indian drowned up-river and carried down. But they would surely have
+heard of the accident on the way. More likely Imbrie. If his brain was
+unhinged, who could say what wild impulse might seize him? Was this the
+reason for Clare's premonition? If it was Imbrie, how could he tell her?
+
+Stonor forced down the mounting horror that constricted his throat, and
+soberly bethought himself of what he must do. Useless to speculate on
+whose the body might be; he had to find out. He examined the place up
+and down with fresh care. The log-jam was about half-a-mile above the
+falls, and a slightly lesser distance below Imbrie's shack. It was
+nearer his side of the river than the other; say, fifty yards of torn
+white water lay between the drift-pile and the beach. To wade or swim
+out was out of the question. On the other hand, the strongest flow of
+water, the channel such as it was, set directly for the obstruction, and
+it might be possible to drop down on it from above--if one provided some
+means for getting back again. Stonor marked the position of every rock,
+every reef above, and little by little made his plan.
+
+He returned to the shack. In her present state of nerves he dared not
+tell Clare of what he had found. In any case he might be mistaken in his
+supposition as to the identity of the body. In that case she need never
+be told. He was careful to present himself with a smooth face.
+
+"Any news?" cried Clare eagerly. "You've been gone so long!"
+
+He shook his head. "Anything here?"
+
+"Nothing. I am ready to go now as soon as we have eaten."
+
+Stonor, faced with the necessity of suddenly discovering some reason for
+delaying their start, stroked his chin. "Have you slept?" he asked.
+
+"How could I sleep?"
+
+"I don't think you ought to start until you've had some sleep."
+
+"I can sleep later."
+
+"I need sleep too. And Mary."
+
+"Of course! How selfish of me! We can start towards evening, then."
+
+While Clare was setting the biscuits to the fire in the shack, and
+Stonor was chopping wood outside, Mary came out for an armful of wood.
+The opportunity of speaking to her privately was too good to be missed.
+
+"Mary," said Stonor. "There's a dead body caught in the rapids below
+here."
+
+"Wah!" she cried, letting the wood fall. "You teenk it is _him_?"
+
+"I don't know. I suppose so. I've got to find out."
+
+"Find out? In the rapids? How you goin' find out? You get carry over the
+falls!"
+
+"Not so loud! I've got it all doped out. I'm taking no unnecessary
+chances. But I'll need you to help me."
+
+"I not help you," said Mary rebelliously. "I not help you drown
+yourself--for a dead man. He's dead anyhow. If you go over the falls
+what we do? What we do?"
+
+"Easy! I told you I had a good plan. Wait and see what it is. Get her to
+sleep this afternoon, and we'll try to pull it off before she wakes. Now
+run on in, or she'll wonder what we're talking about. Don't show
+anything in your face."
+
+Mary's prime accomplishment lay in hiding her feelings. She picked up
+her wood, and went stolidly into the shack.
+
+Stonor, searching among Imbrie's things, was much reassured to find a
+tracking-line. This, added to his own line, would give him six hundred
+feet of rope, which he judged ample for his purpose. He spliced the two
+while the meal was preparing.
+
+"What's that for?" Clare asked.
+
+"To help us up-stream."
+
+As soon as he had eaten he went back to the beach. His movements here
+were invisible to those in the shack. He carried the remaining
+bark-canoe on his back down the beach to a point about a hundred and
+fifty yards above the log-jam. This was to be his point of departure. He
+took a fresh survey of the rapids, and went over and over in his mind
+the course he meant to take.
+
+After cutting off several short lengths that he required for various
+purposes, Stonor fastened the end of the line to a tree on the edge of
+the bank; the other end he made fast to the stern of the canoe--not to
+the point of the stern, but to the stern-thwart where it joined the
+gunwale. This was designed to hold the canoe at an angle against the
+current that would keep her out in the stream. The slack of the line was
+coiled neatly on the beach.
+
+With one of the short lengths Stonor then made an offset from this line
+near where it was fastened to the thwart, and passed it around his own
+body under the arms. Thus, if the canoe smashed on the rocks or
+swamped, by cutting the line at the thwart the strain would be
+transferred to Stonor's body, and the canoe could be left to its fate.
+Another short length with a loop at the end was made fast at the other
+end of the thwart. This was for the purpose of making fast to the
+log-jam while Stonor worked to free the body. A third piece of line he
+carried around his neck. This was to secure the body.
+
+During the course of these preparations Mary joined him. She reported
+that Clare was fast asleep. Stonor made a little prayer that she might
+not awaken till this business was over.
+
+He explained to Mary what he was about, and showed her her part. She
+listened sullenly, but, seeing that his mind was made up, shrugged at
+the uselessness of opposing his will. Mary was to pay out the rope
+according to certain instructions, and afterwards to haul him in.
+
+Finally, after reassuring himself of the security of all his knots, he
+divested himself of hat, tunic, and boots and stepped into the canoe. He
+shook hands with Mary, took his knife between his teeth, and pushed off.
+He made as much as he could out of the back-water alongshore, and then,
+heading diagonally up-stream, shot out into the turmoil, paddling like a
+man possessed in order to make sure of getting far enough out before the
+current swept him abreast of his destination. Mary, according to
+instructions, paid out the rope freely. Before starting he had marked
+every rock in his course, and he avoided them now by instinct. His
+thinking had been done beforehand. He worked like a machine.
+
+He saw that he was going to make it, with something to spare. When he
+had the log-jam safely under his quarter, he stopped paddling, and,
+bringing the canoe around, drifted down on it. There was plenty of
+water out here. He held up a hand to Mary, and according to
+pre-arrangement she gradually took up the strain on the line. The canoe
+slowed up, and the current began to race past.
+
+So far so good. The line held the canoe slightly broached to the
+current, thus the pressure of the current itself kept him from edging
+ashore. The log-pile loomed up squarely ahead of him. Mary let him down
+on it hand over hand. He manoeuvred himself abreast an immense log
+pointing up and down river, alongside of which the current slipped
+silkily. Casting his loop over the stump of a branch, he was held fast
+and the strain was taken off Mary's arms.
+
+The moccasined foot protruded from the water at the bow of his canoe. He
+soon saw the impossibility of attempting to work from the frail canoe,
+so he untied the rope which bound him to it, and pulled himself out on
+the logs. The rope from the shore was still around his body in case of a
+slip. He was taking no unnecessary chances.
+
+The body was caught in some way under the same great log that his canoe
+was fastened to. The current tore at the projecting foot with a snarl.
+The foot oscillated continually under the pull, and sometimes
+disappeared altogether, only to spring back into sight with a ghastly
+life-like motion. Stonor cautiously straddled the log, and groped
+beneath it. His principal anxiety was that log and all might come away
+from the jam and be carried down, but there was little danger that his
+insignificant weight would disturb so great a bulk.
+
+The body was caught in the fork of a branch underneath. He succeeded in
+freeing the other foot. He guessed that a smart pull up-stream would
+liberate the whole, but in that case the current would almost surely
+snatch it from his grasp. He saw that it would be an impossible task
+from his insecure perch to drag the body out on the log, and in turn
+load it into the fragile canoe. His only chance lay in towing it ashore.
+
+So, with the piece of line he had brought for the purpose, he lashed the
+feet together, and made the other end fast to the bow-thwart of the
+canoe. Then he got in and adjusted his stern-line as before--it became
+the bow-line for the return journey. In case it should become necessary
+to cut adrift from the canoe, he took the precaution of passing a line
+direct from his body to that which he meant to tow. When all was ready
+he signalled to Mary to haul in.
+
+Now began the most difficult half of his journey. On the strength of
+Mary's arms depended the freeing of the body. It came away slowly.
+Stonor had an instant's glimpse of the ghastly tow bobbing astern,
+before settling down to the business in hand. For awhile all went well,
+though the added pull of the submerged body put a terrific strain on
+Mary. Fortunately she was as strong as a man. Stonor aided her all he
+could with his paddle, but that was little. He was kept busy fending his
+egg-shell craft off the rocks. He had instructed Mary, as the slack
+accumulated, to walk gradually up the beach. This was to avoid the
+danger of the canoe's broaching too far to the current. But Mary could
+not do it under the increased load. The best she could manage was to
+brace her body against the stones, and pull in hand over hand.
+
+As the line shortened Stonor saw that he was going to have trouble.
+Instead of working in-shore, the canoe was edging further into the
+stream, and ever presenting a more dangerous angle to the tearing
+current. Mary had pulled in about a third of the line, when suddenly the
+canoe, getting the current under her dead rise, darted out into
+mid-stream like a fish at the end of a line, and hung there canting
+dangerously. The current snarled along the gunwale like an animal
+preparing to crush its prey.
+
+The strain on Mary was frightful. She was extended at full length with
+her legs braced against an outcrop of rock. Stonor could see her
+agonized expression. He shouted to her to slack off the line, but of
+course the roar of the water drowned his puny voice. In dumb-play he
+tried desperately to show her what to do, but Mary was possessed of but
+one idea, to hang on until her arms were pulled out.
+
+The canoe tipped inch by inch, and the boiling water crept up its
+freeboard. Finally it swept in, and Stonor saw that all was over with
+the canoe. With a single stroke of his knife he severed the rope at the
+thwart behind him; with another stroke the rope in front. When the tug
+came on his body he was jerked clean out of the canoe. It passed out of
+his reckoning. By the drag behind him, he knew he still had the dead
+body safe.
+
+He instinctively struck out, but the tearing water, mocking his feeble
+efforts, buffeted him this way and that as with the swing of giant arms.
+Sometimes he was spun helplessly on the end of his line like a
+trolling-spoon. He was flung sideways around a boulder and pressed there
+by the hands of the current until it seemed the breath was slowly
+leaving his body. Dazed, blinded, gasping, he somehow managed to
+struggle over it, and was cast further in-shore. The tendency of the
+current was to sweep him in now. If he could only keep alive! The stones
+were thicker in-shore. He was beaten first on one side, then the other.
+All his conscious efforts were reduced to protecting his head from the
+rocks with his arms.
+
+The water may have been but a foot or two deep, but of course he could
+gain no footing. He still dragged his leaden burden. All the breath was
+knocked out of him under the continual blows, but he was conscious of no
+pain. The last few moments were a blank. He found himself in the
+back-water, and expended his last ounce of strength in crawling out on
+hands and knees on the beach. He cast himself flat, sobbing for breath.
+
+Mary came running to his aid. He was able to nod to her reassuringly,
+and in the ecstasy of her relief, she sat down suddenly, and wept like a
+white woman. Stonor gathered himself together and sat up groaning. The
+onset of pain was well-nigh unendurable. He felt literally as if his
+flesh all over had been pounded to a jelly. But all his limbs,
+fortunately, responded to their functions.
+
+"Lie still," Mary begged of him.
+
+He shook his head. "I must keep moving, or I'll become as helpless as a
+log."
+
+The nameless thing was floating in the back-water. Together they dragged
+it out on the stones. It was Stonor's first sight of that which had cost
+him such pains to secure. He nerved himself to bear it. Mary was no fine
+lady, but she turned her head away. The man's face was totally
+unrecognizable by reason of the battering it had received on the rocks;
+his clothes were partly in ribbons; there was a gaping wound in the
+breast.
+
+For the rest, as far as Stonor could judge, it was the body of a young
+man, and a comely one. His skin was dark like that of an Italian, or a
+white man with a quarter or eighth strain of Indian blood in his veins.
+Stonor was astonished by this fact; nothing that he had heard had
+suggested that Imbrie was not as white as himself. This put a new look
+on affairs. For an instant Stonor doubted. But the man's hand was
+well-formed and well-kept; and in what remained of his clothes one could
+still see the good materials and the neatness. In fact, it could be none
+other than Imbrie.
+
+He was roused from his contemplation of the gruesome object by a sharp
+exclamation from Mary. Looking up, he saw Clare a quarter of a mile
+away, hastening to them along the beach. His heart sank.
+
+"Go to her," he said quickly. "Keep her from coming here."
+
+Mary hastened away. Stonor followed more slowly, disguising his soreness
+as best he could. For him it was cruel going over the stones--yet all
+the way he was oddly conscious of the beauty of the wild cascade,
+sweeping down between its green shores.
+
+As he had feared, Clare refused to be halted by Mary. Thrusting the
+Indian woman aside, she came on to Stonor.
+
+"What's the matter?" she cried stormily. "Why did you both leave me? Why
+does she try to stop me?--Why! you're all wet! Where's your tunic, your
+boots? You're in pain!"
+
+"Come to the house," he said. "I'll tell you."
+
+She would not be put off. "What has happened? I insist on knowing now!
+What is there down there I mustn't see?"
+
+"Be guided by me," he pleaded. "Come away, and I'll tell you
+everything."
+
+"I _will_ see!" she cried. "Do you wish to put me out of my mind with
+suspense?"
+
+He saw that it was perhaps kinder not to oppose her. "I have found a
+body in the river," he said. "Do not look at it. Let me tell you."
+
+She broke away from him. "I must know the worst," she muttered.
+
+He let her go. She ran on down the beach, and he hobbled after. She
+stopped beside the body, and looked down with wide, wild eyes. One
+dreadful low cry escaped her.
+
+"Ernest!"
+
+She collapsed. Stonor caught her sagging body. Her head fell limply back
+over his arm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE START HOME
+
+
+Stonor, refusing aid from Mary, painfully carried his burden all the way
+back to the shack. He laid her on the bed. There was no sign of
+returning animation. Mary loosened her clothing, chafed her hands, and
+did what other offices her experience suggested. After what seemed like
+an age to the watchers, she stirred and sighed. Stonor dreaded then what
+recollection would bring to her awakening. But there was neither grief
+nor terror in the quiet look she bent first on one then the other; only
+a kind of annoyed perplexity. She closed her eyes again without
+speaking, and presently her deepened breathing told them that she slept.
+
+"Thank God!" whispered Stonor. "It's the best thing for her."
+
+Mary followed him out of the shack. "Watch her close," he charged her.
+"If you want me for anything come down to the beach and hail."
+
+Stonor procured another knife and returned to the body. In the light of
+Clare's identification he could have no further doubt that this was
+indeed the remains of the unhappy Imbrie. She had her own means of
+identification, he supposed. The man, undoubtedly deranged, must have
+pushed off in his canoe and let the current carry him to his death.
+Stonor, however, thinking of the report he must make to his commanding
+officer, knew that his speculations were not sufficient. Much as he
+disliked the necessity, it was incumbent on him to perform an autopsy.
+
+This developed three surprising facts in this order: (a) there was no
+water in the dead man's lungs, proving that he was already dead when his
+body entered the water: (b) there was a bullet-hole through his heart:
+(c) the bullet itself was lodged in his spine.
+
+For a moment Stonor thought of murder--but only for a moment. A
+glance showed him that the bullet was of thirty-eight calibre, a
+revolver-bullet. Revolvers are unknown to the Indians. Stonor knew
+that there were no revolvers in all the country round except his own,
+Gaviller's forty-four, and one that the dead man himself might have
+possessed. Consequently he saw no reason to change his original theory
+of suicide. Imbrie, faced by that terrible drop, had merely hastened
+the end by putting a bullet through his heart.
+
+Stonor kept the bullet as possible evidence. He then looked about for a
+suitable burial-place. His instinct was to provide the poor fellow with
+a fair spot for his last long rest. Up on top of the low precipice of
+rock that has been mentioned, there was a fine point of vantage visible
+up-river beyond the head of the rapids. At no small pains Stonor dragged
+the body up here, and with his knife dug him a shallow grave between the
+roots of a conspicuous pine. It was a long, hard task. He covered him
+with brush in lieu of a coffin, and, throwing the earth back, heaped a
+cairn of stones on top. Placing a flat stone in the centre, he scratched
+the man's name on it and the date. He spoke no articulate prayer, but
+thought one perhaps.
+
+"Sleep well, old fellow. It seems I was never to know you, though you
+haunted me--and may perhaps haunt me still."
+
+Dragging himself wearily back to the shack, Stonor found that Clare
+still slept.
+
+"Fine!" he said with clearing face. "There's no doctor like sleep!"
+
+His secret dread was that she might become seriously ill. What would he
+do in that case, so far away from help?
+
+He sat himself down to watch beside Clare while Mary prepared the
+evening meal. There were still some three hours more of daylight, and he
+decided to be guided as to their start up-river by Clare's condition
+when she awoke. If she had a horror of the place they could start at
+once, provided she were able to travel, and sleep under canvas.
+Otherwise it would be well to wait until morning, for he was pretty
+nearly all in himself. Indeed, while he waited with the keenest anxiety
+for Clare's eyes to open, his own closed. He slept with his head fallen
+forward on his breast.
+
+He awoke to find Clare's wide-open eyes wonderingly fixed on him.
+
+"Who are you?" she asked.
+
+It struck a chill to his breast. Was she mad? This was a more dreadful
+horror than he had foreseen. Yet there was nothing distraught in her
+gaze, merely that same look of perplexed annoyance. It was an
+appreciable moment before he could collect his wits sufficiently to
+answer.
+
+"Your friend," he said, forcing himself to smile.
+
+"Yes, I think you are," she said slowly. "But it's funny I don't quite
+know you."
+
+"You soon will."
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Martin Stonor."
+
+"And that uniform you are wearing?"
+
+"Mounted police."
+
+She raised herself a little, and looked around. The puzzled expression
+deepened. "What a strange-looking room! What am I doing in such a
+place?"
+
+To Stonor it was like a conversation in a dream. It struck awe to his
+breast. Yet he forced himself to answer lightly and cheerfully. "This
+is a shack in the woods where we are camping temporarily. We'll start
+for home as soon as you are able."
+
+"Home? Where is that?" she cried like a lost child.
+
+A great hard lump rose in Stonor's throat. He could not speak.
+
+After a while she said: "I feel all right. I could eat."
+
+"That's fine!" he cried from the heart. "That's the main thing. Supper
+will soon be ready."
+
+The next question was asked with visible embarrassment. "You are not my
+brother, are you, or any relation?"
+
+"No, only your friend," he said, smiling.
+
+She was troubled like a child, biting her lip, and turning her face from
+him to hide the threatening tears. There was evidently some question she
+could not bring herself to ask. He could not guess what it was.
+Certainly not the one she did ask.
+
+"What time is it?"
+
+"Past seven o'clock."
+
+"That means nothing to me," she burst out bitterly. "It's like the first
+hour to me. It's so foolish to be asking such questions! I don't know
+what's the matter with me! I don't even know my own name!"
+
+That was it! "Your name is Clare Starling," he said steadily.
+
+"What am I doing in a shack in the woods?"
+
+He hesitated before answering this. His first fright had passed. He had
+heard of people losing their memories, and knew that it was not
+necessarily a dangerous state. Indeed, now, this wiping-out of
+recollection seemed like a merciful dispensation, and he dreaded the
+word that would bring the agony back.
+
+"Don't ask any more questions now," he begged her. "Just rest up for the
+moment, and take things as they come."
+
+"Something terrible has happened!" she said agitatedly. "That is why I
+am like this. You're afraid to tell me what it is. But I must know.
+Nothing could be so bad as not knowing anything. It is unendurable not
+to have any identity. Don't you understand? I am empty inside here. The
+me is gone!"
+
+He arose and stood beside her bed. "I ask you to trust me," he said
+gravely. "I am the only doctor available. If you excite yourself like
+this only harm can come of it. Everything is all right now. You have
+nothing to fear. People who lose their memories always get them back
+again. If you do not remember of yourself I promise to tell you
+everything that has happened."
+
+"I will try to be patient," she said dutifully.
+
+Presently she asked: "Is there no one here but us? I thought I
+remembered a woman--or did I dream it?"
+
+Stonor called Mary in and introduced her. Clare's eyes widened. "An
+Indian woman!" their expression said.
+
+Stonor said, as if speaking of the most everyday matter: "Mary, Miss
+Starling's memory is gone. It will soon return, of course, and in the
+meantime plenty of food and sleep are the best things for her. She has
+promised me not to ask any more questions for the present."
+
+Mary paled slightly. To her, loss of memory smacked of insanity of which
+she was terribly in awe--like all her race. However, under Stonor's
+stern eye she kept her face pretty well.
+
+Clare said: "I'd like to get up now," and Stonor left the shack.
+
+Nothing further happened that night. Clare ate a good supper, and a bit
+of colour returned to her cheeks. Stonor had no reason to be anxious
+concerning her physical condition. She asked no more questions.
+Immediately after eating he sent her and Mary to bed. Shortly
+afterwards Mary reported that Clare had fallen asleep again.
+
+Stonor slept in the store-room. He was up at dawn, and by sunrise he had
+everything ready for the start up-river.
+
+It was an entirely self-possessed Clare that issued from the shack after
+breakfast, yet there was something inaccessible about her. Though she
+was anxious to be friends with Stonor and Mary, she was cut off from
+them. They had to begin all over again with her. There was something
+piteous in the sight of the little figure so alone even among her
+friends; but she was bearing it pluckily.
+
+She looked around her eagerly. The river was very lovely, with the sun
+drinking up the light mist from its surface.
+
+"What river is this?" she asked.
+
+Stonor told her.
+
+"It is not altogether strange to me," she said. "I feel as if I might
+have known it in a previous existence. There is a fall below, isn't
+there?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How do you suppose I knew that?"
+
+He shrugged, smiling.
+
+"And the--the catastrophe happened down there," she said diffidently. He
+nodded.
+
+"I feel it like a numb place inside me. But I don't want to go down
+there. I feel differently from yesterday. Some day soon, of course, I
+must turn back the dreadful pages, but not quite yet. I want a little
+sunshine and laziness and sleep first; a little vacation from trouble."
+
+"That's just as it should be," said Stonor, much relieved.
+
+"Isn't it funny, I can't remember anything that ever happened to me, yet
+I haven't forgotten everything I knew. I know the meaning of things. I
+still seem to talk like a grown-up person. Words come to me when I need
+them. How do you explain that?"
+
+"Well, I suppose it's because just one little department of your brain
+has stopped working for a while."
+
+"Well, I'm not going to worry. The world is beautiful."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The journey up-stream was a toilsome affair. Though the current between
+the rapids was not especially swift, it made a great difference when
+what had been added to their rate of paddling on the way down, was
+deducted on the way back. Stonor foresaw that it would take them close
+on ten days to make the Horse-Track. He and Mary took turns tracking the
+canoe from the bank, while the other rested. Clare steered. Ascending
+the rapids presented no new problems to a river-man, but it was
+downright hard work. All hands joined in pulling and pushing, careless
+of how they got wet.
+
+The passing days brought no change in Clare's mental state, and in
+Stonor the momentary dread of some thought or word that might bring
+recollection crashing back, was gradually lulled. Physically she showed
+an astonishing improvement, rejoicing in the hard work in the rapids,
+eating and sleeping like a growing boy. To Stonor it was enchanting to
+see the rosy blood mantle her pale cheeks and the sparkle of bodily
+well-being enhance her eyes. With this new tide of health came a stouter
+resistance to imaginative terrors. Away with doubts and questionings!
+For the moment the physical side of her was uppermost. It was Nature's
+own way of effecting a cure. Towards Stonor, in this new character of
+hers, she displayed a hint of laughing boldness that enraptured him.
+
+At first he would not let himself believe what he read in her new gaze;
+that the natural woman who had sloughed off the burdens of an unhappy
+past was disposed to love him. But of course he could not really resist
+so sweet a suggestion. Let him tell himself all he liked that he was
+living in a fool's paradise; that when recollection returned, as it must
+in the end, she would think no more of him; nevertheless, when she
+looked at him like that, he could not help being happy. The journey took
+on a thousand new delights for him; such delights as his solitary youth
+had never known. At least, he told himself, there was no sin in it, for
+the only man who had a better claim on her was dead and buried.
+
+One night they were camped beside some bare tepee poles on a point of
+the bank. Mary had gone off to set a night-line in an eddy; Stonor lay
+on his back in the grass smoking, and Clare sat near, nursing her knees.
+
+"You've forbidden me to ask questions about myself," said she; "but how
+about you?"
+
+"Oh, there's nothing to tell about me."
+
+She affected to study him with a disinterested air. "I don't believe you
+have a wife," she said wickedly. "You haven't a married look."
+
+"What kind of a look is that?"
+
+"Oh, a sort of apologetic look."
+
+"Well, as a matter of fact, I'm not married," he said, grinning.
+
+"Have you a sweetheart?" she asked in her abrupt way, so like a boy's.
+
+Stonor regarded his pipe-bowl attentively, but did not thereby succeed
+in masking his blushes.
+
+"Aha! You have!" she cried. "No need to answer."
+
+"That depends on what you mean," he said, determined not to let her
+outface him. "If you mean a regular cut and dried affair, no."
+
+"But you're in love."
+
+"Some might say so."
+
+"Don't you say so?"
+
+"I don't know. I've had no instruction on the subject."
+
+"Pshaw! It's a poor kind of man that needs instruction!"
+
+"I daresay."
+
+"Tell me, and maybe I can instruct you."
+
+"How can you tell the untellable?"
+
+"Well, for instance, do you like to be with her?"
+
+Stonor affected to study the matter. "No," he said.
+
+She gave him so comical a look of rebuke that he laughed outright. "I
+mean I'm uncomfortable whether I'm with her or away from her," he
+explained.
+
+"There may be something in that," she admitted. "Have you ever told
+her?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why don't you tell her like a man?"
+
+"Things are not as simple as all that."
+
+"Obstacles, eh?"
+
+"Rather!"
+
+A close observer might have perceived under Clare's scornful chaffing
+the suggestion of a serious and anxious purpose. "Bless me! this is
+getting exciting!" she said. "Maybe the lady has a husband?"
+
+"No, not that."
+
+A glint of relief showed under her lowered lids. "What's the trouble,
+then?"
+
+"Oh, just my general unworthiness, I guess."
+
+"I don't think you can love her very much," she said, with pretended
+scorn.
+
+"Perhaps not," he said, refusing to be drawn.
+
+She allowed the subject to drop. It was characteristic of Clare in her
+lighter moments that her conversation skipped from subject to subject
+like a chamois on the heights. Those who knew her well, though, began to
+suspect in the end that there was often a method in her skipping. She
+now talked of the day's journey, of the weather, of Mary's good
+cooking, of a dozen minor matters. After a long time, when he might
+naturally be supposed to have forgotten what they had started with, she
+said offhand:
+
+"Do you mind if I ask one question about myself?"
+
+"Fire away."
+
+"You told me my name was Miss Clare Starling."
+
+"Do you suspect otherwise?"
+
+"What am I doing with a wedding-ring?"
+
+It took him unawares. He stared at her a little clownishly. "I--I never
+noticed it," he stammered.
+
+"It's hanging on a string around my neck."
+
+"Your husband is dead," he said bluntly.
+
+She cast down her eyes. "Was that--the catastrophe that happened up
+here?"
+
+While he wished to keep the information from her as long as possible, he
+could not lie to her. "Yes," he said. "Don't ask any more."
+
+She bowed as one who acknowledges the receipt of information not
+personally important. "One more question; was he a good man, a man you
+respected?"
+
+"Oh, yes," he said quickly.
+
+She looked puzzled. "Strange I should feel no sense of loss," she
+murmured.
+
+"You had been parted from him for a long time."
+
+They fell silent. The charming spell that had bound them was effectually
+broken. She shivered delicately, and announced her intention of going to
+bed.
+
+But in the morning she showed him a shining morning face. To arise
+refreshed from sleep, hungry for one's breakfast, and eager for the
+day's journey, was enough for her just now. She was living in her
+instincts. Her instinct told her that Stonor loved her, and that
+sufficed her. The dreadful things might wait.
+
+Having ascended the last rapid, they found they could make better time
+by paddling the dug-out, keeping close under the shore as the Kakisas
+did, and cutting across from side to side on the inside of each bend to
+keep out of the strongest of the current. The seating arrangement was
+the same as at their start; Mary in the bow, Stonor in the stern, and
+Clare facing Stonor. Thus all day long their eyes were free to dwell on
+each other, nor did they tire. They had reached that perfect stage where
+the eyes confess what the tongue dares not name; that charming stage of
+folly when lovers tell themselves they are still safe because nothing
+has been spoken. As a matter of fact it is with words that the way to
+misunderstanding is opened. One cannot misunderstand happy eyes.
+Meanwhile they were satisfied with chaffing each other.
+
+"Martin, I wonder how old I am."
+
+He studied her gravely. "I shouldn't say more than thirty-three or
+four."
+
+"You wretch! I'll get square with you for that! I can start with any age
+I want. I'll be eighteen."
+
+"That's all right, if you can get away with it. If I could keep you up
+here awhile maybe you could knock off a little more."
+
+"Oh, Martin, if one could only travel on this river for ever! It's so
+blessed not to have to think of things!"
+
+"Suit me all right. But I suppose Mary wants to see her kids."
+
+"Let her go."
+
+Her eyes fell under the rapt look that involuntarily leapt up in his. "I
+mean we could get somebody else," she murmured.
+
+Stonor pulled himself up short. "Unfortunately there's the force," he
+said lightly. "If I don't go back and report they'll come after me."
+
+"What is this place we are going to, Martin?"
+
+"Fort Enterprise."
+
+"I am like a person hanging suspended in space. I neither know where I
+came from, nor where I am going. What is Fort Enterprise like?"
+
+"A trading-post."
+
+"Your home?"
+
+"Such as it is."
+
+"Why 'such as it is'?"
+
+"Well, it's a bit of a hole."
+
+"No society?"
+
+"Society!" He laughed grimly.
+
+"Aren't there any girls there?"
+
+"Devil a one!--except Miss Pringle, the parson's sister, and she's
+considerable oldish."
+
+"Don't you know any real girls, Martin?"
+
+"None but you, Clare."
+
+She bent an odd, happy glance on him. It meant: "Is it possible that I
+am the first with him?"
+
+"Why do you look at me like that?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, you're rather nice to look at," she said airily.
+
+"Thanks," he said, blushing. He was modest, but that sort of thing
+doesn't exactly hurt the most modest of men. "Same to you!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They camped that night on a little plateau of sweet grass, and after
+supper Mary told tales by the fire. Mary, bland and uncensorious, was a
+perfect chaperon. What she thought of the present situation Stonor never
+knew. He left it to Clare to come to an understanding with her. That
+they shared many a secret from which he was excluded, he knew. Mary had
+soon recovered from her terror of Clare's seeming illness.
+
+"This the story of the Wolf-Man," she began. "Once on a tam there was a
+man had two bad wives. They had no shame. That man think maybe if he go
+away where there were no other people he can teach those women to be
+good, so he move his lodge away off on the prairie. Near where they camp
+was a high hill, and every evenin' when the sun go under the man go up
+on top of the hill, and look all over the country to see where the
+buffalo was feeding, and see if any enemies come. There was a
+buffalo-skull on that hill which he sit on.
+
+"In the daytime while he hunt the women talk. 'This is ver' lonesome,'
+one say. 'We got nobody talk to, nobody to visit.'
+
+"Other woman say: 'Let us kill our husband. Then we go back to our
+relations, and have good time.'
+
+"Early in the morning the man go out to hunt. When he gone his wives go
+up the hill. Dig deep pit, and cover it with sticks and grass and dirt.
+And put buffalo-skull on top.
+
+"When the shadows grow long they see their husband coming home all bent
+over with the meat he kill. So they mak' haste to cook for him. After he
+done eating he go up on the hill and sit down on the skull. Wah! the
+sticks break, and he fall in pit. His wives are watching him. When he
+fall in they take down the lodge, pack everything, and travel to the
+main camp of their people. When they get near the big camp they begin to
+cry loud and tear their clothes.
+
+"The people come out. Say: 'Why is this? Why you cry? Where is your
+husband?'
+
+"Women say: 'He dead. Five sleeps ago go out to hunt. Never come back.'
+And they cry and tear their clothes some more.
+
+"When that man fall in the pit he was hurt. Hurt so bad can't climb out.
+Bam-bye wolf traveling along come by the pit and see him. Wolf feel
+sorry. 'Ah-h-woo-o-o! Ah-h-woo-o-o!' he howl. Other wolves hear. All
+come running. Coyotes, badgers, foxes come too.
+
+"Wolf say: 'In this hole is my find. It is a man trapped. We dig him out
+and have him for our brother.'
+
+"All think wolf speak well. All begin to dig. Soon they dig a hole
+close to the man. Then the wolf say: 'Wait! I want to say something.'
+All the animals listen. Wolf say: 'We all have this man for our brother,
+but I find him, so I say he come live with the big wolves.' The others
+say this is well, so the wolf tear down the dirt and drag the man out.
+He is almost dead. They give him a kidney to eat and take him to the
+lodge of the big wolves. Here there is one old blind wolf got very
+strong medicine. Him make that man well, and give him head and hands
+like wolf.
+
+"In those days long ago the people make little holes in the walls of the
+cache where they keep meat, and set snares. When wolves and other
+animals come to steal meat they get caught by the neck. One night wolves
+all go to the cache to steal meat. When they come close man-wolf say:
+'Wait here little while, I go down and fix place so you not get caught.'
+So he go and spring all the snares. Then he go back and get wolves,
+coyotes, badgers and foxes, and all go in the cache and make feast and
+carry meat home.
+
+"In the morning the people much surprise' find meat gone and snares
+sprung. All say, how was that done? For many nights the meat is stolen
+and the snares sprung. But one night when the wolves go there to steal
+find only meat of a tough buffalo-bull. So the man-wolf was angry and
+cry out:
+
+"'Bad-you-give-us-ooo! Bad-you-give-us-ooo!'
+
+"The people hear and say: 'It is a man-wolf who has done all this. We
+catch him now!' So they put nice back-fat and tongue in the cache, and
+hide close by. After dark the wolves come. When the man-wolf see that
+good food he run to it and eat. Then the people run in and catch him
+with ropes and take him to a lodge. Inside in the light of the fire they
+see who it is. They say: 'This is the man who was lost!'
+
+"Man say: 'No. I not lost. My wives try to kill me.' And he tell them
+how it was. He say: 'The wolves take pity on me or I die there.'
+
+"When the people hear this they angry at those bad women, and they tell
+the man to do something about it.
+
+"Man say: 'You say well. I give them to the Bull-Band, the Punishers of
+Wrong.'
+
+"After that night those two women were never seen again."
+
+Mary Moosa, when one of her stories went well, with the true instinct of
+a story-teller could seldom be persuaded to follow it with another,
+fearing an anti-climax perhaps. She turned in under her little tent, and
+soon thereafter trumpeted to the world that she slept.
+
+Stonor and Clare were left together with self-conscious, downcast eyes.
+All day they had longed for this moment, and now that it had come they
+were full of dread. Their moods had changed; chaffing was for sunny
+mornings on the river; in the exquisite, brooding dusk they hungered for
+each other. Yet both still told themselves that the secret was safe from
+the other. Finally Clare with elaborate yawns bade Stonor good-night and
+disappeared under her tent.
+
+An instinct that he could not have analysed told him she would be out
+again. Half-way down the bank in a little grassy hollow he made a nest
+for her with his blankets. When she did appear over the top of the bank
+she surveyed these preparations with a touch of haughty surprise. She
+had a cup in her hand.
+
+"Were you going to spend the night here?" she asked.
+
+"No," he said, much confused.
+
+"What is this for, then?"
+
+"I just hoped that you might come out and sit for a while."
+
+"What reason had you to think that?"
+
+"No reason. I just hoped it."
+
+"Oh! I thought you were in bed. I just came out to get a drink."
+
+Stonor, considerably dashed, took the cup and brought her water from the
+river. She sipped it and threw the rest away. He begged her to sit down.
+
+She sat in a tentative sort of way, and declined to be wrapped up. "I
+can only stay a minute."
+
+"Have you a pressing engagement?" he asked aggrievedly.
+
+"One must sleep some time," she said rebukingly.
+
+Stonor, totally unversed in the ways of women, was crushed by her
+changed air. He looked away, racking his brains to hit on what he could
+have done to offend her. She glanced at him out of the tail of her eye,
+and a wicked little dimple appeared in one cheek. He was sufficiently
+punished. She was mollified. But it was so sweet to feel her power over
+him, that she could not forbear using it just a little.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked sullenly.
+
+"Why, nothing!" she said with an indulgent smile, such as she might have
+given a small boy.
+
+An intuition told him that in a way it was like dealing with an Indian;
+to ask questions would only put him at a disadvantage. He must patiently
+wait until the truth came out of itself.
+
+In silence he chose the weapon she was least proof against. She tried to
+out-silence him, but soon began to fidget. "You're not very talkative,"
+she said at last.
+
+"I only seem to put my foot in it."
+
+"You're very stupid."
+
+"No doubt."
+
+She got up. "I'm going back to bed."
+
+"Sorry, we don't seem to be able to hit it off after supper."
+
+"I'd like to beat you!" she cried with a little gust of passion.
+
+This was more encouraging. "Why?" he asked, grinning.
+
+"You're so dense!"
+
+At last he understood, and a great peace filled him. "Sit down," he said
+coaxingly. "Let's be friends. We only have nine days more."
+
+This took her by surprise. She sat. "Why only nine days?"
+
+"When we get out your life will claim you. This little time will seem
+like a dream."
+
+She began to see then, and her heart warmed towards him. "Now I
+understand what's the matter with you!" she cried. "You think that I am
+not myself now; that this me which is talking to you is not the real me,
+but a kind of--what do they call it?--a kind of changeling. And that
+when we get back to the world, or some day soon, this me will be whisked
+away again, and my old self come back and take possession of my body."
+
+"Something like that," he said, with a rueful smile.
+
+"Oh, you hurt me when you talk like that!" she cried. "You are wrong,
+quite, quite wrong! This is my ownest self that speaks to you now; that
+is--that is your friend, and it will never change! Think a little. What
+I have lost is not essential. It is only memory. That is to say, the
+baggage that one gradually collects through life; what was impressed on
+your mind as a child; what you pick up from watching other people and
+from reading books; what people tell you you ought to do; outside ideas
+of every kind, mostly false. Well, I've chucked it all--or it has been
+chucked for me. Such as I am now, I am the woman I was born to be! And I
+will never change. I don't care if I never find my lost baggage. My
+heart is light without it. But if I do it can make no difference.
+Baggage is only baggage. And having once found your own heart you never
+could forget that."
+
+They both instinctively stood up. They did not touch each other.
+
+"Do you still doubt me?" she asked.
+
+"No."
+
+"You will see. I understand you better now. I shall not tease you any
+more. Good-night, Martin."
+
+"Good-night, Clare."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE MYSTERY
+
+
+Next morning, when they had been on the river for about three hours,
+they came upon their friend Etzooah, he of the famous hair, still
+hunting along shore in his canoe, but this time without the little boy.
+Stonor hailed him with pleasure; for of all the Kakisa Indians only this
+one had acted towards them like a man and a brother.
+
+But the policeman was doomed to disappointment. When they overtook
+Etzooah they saw that the red man's open, friendly look had changed. He
+turned a hard, wary eye on them, just like all the other Kakisas. Stonor
+guessed that he must have visited his people in the interim, and have
+been filled up with their nonsensical tales. Affecting to notice no
+change, Stonor said:
+
+"We are going to spell here. Will you eat with us?"
+
+No Indian was ever known to refuse a meal. Etzooah landed without a
+word, and sat apart waiting for it to be prepared. He made no offer to
+help, but merely sat watching them out of his inscrutable, beady eyes.
+Stonor, hoping to find him with better dispositions after he had filled
+up, let him alone.
+
+Throughout the meal Etzooah said nothing except to answer Stonor's
+questions in monosyllables. He denied having been up to Ahcunazie's
+village. Stonor was struck by the fact that he made no inquiry
+respecting his friend Imbrie. Stonor himself did not like to bring up
+the subject of Imbrie in Clare's hearing. Altogether baffled by the
+man's changed air, he finally said:
+
+"Mary, translate this just as I give it to you.--When the policeman come
+down the river he meet Etzooah. He is glad to see Etzooah. He say, here
+is a good man. Etzooah give the policeman good talk. They part friends.
+But when the policeman come back up the river Etzooah is changed. He is
+not glad to see the policeman. He gives him black looks. Why is that?
+Has anyone spoken evil of the policeman to Etzooah? He is ready to
+answer. He asks this in friendship."
+
+But it was all wasted on the Indian. He shrugged, and said with bland,
+unrelenting gaze: "Etzooah not changed. Etzooah glad to see the
+policeman come back."
+
+When they had finished eating, Clare, guessing that Stonor could talk
+more freely if she were out of hearing, strolled away to a little
+distance and sat down to do some mending.
+
+Stonor said to Etzooah through Mary: "I have bad news for you."
+
+The Indian said: "You not find White Medicine Man?"
+
+"He is dead."
+
+Etzooah's jaw dropped. He stared at Stonor queerly. "What for you tell
+me that?" he demanded.
+
+The style of the question nonplussed Stonor for the moment. "Why do I
+tell you? You said you were his friend."
+
+Etzooah veiled his eyes. "So--he dead," he said stolidly. "I sorry for
+that."
+
+Now it was perfectly clear to Stonor that while the man's first
+exclamation had been honest and involuntary, his later words were
+calculated. There was no trace of sorrow in his tones. It was all very
+puzzling.
+
+"I think he must have been crazy," Stonor went on. "He shoved off in his
+canoe, and let the current carry him down. Then he shot himself."
+
+Etzooah still studied Stonor like a man searching for ulterior motives.
+Clearly he did not believe what he was being told. "Why you think that?
+The falls never tell."
+
+"His body didn't go over the falls. It caught on a log-jam in the
+rapids."
+
+"I know that log-jam. How you know his body there?"
+
+"I brought it ashore. Mary helped me."
+
+Etzooah smiled in a superior way.
+
+Stonor, exasperated, turned to Mary. "Make it clear to him that I am
+telling the truth if it takes half-an-hour." He turned away and filled
+his pipe.
+
+Mary presumably found the means of convincing the doubter. Etzooah lost
+his mask. His mouth dropped open; he stared at Stonor with wild eyes; a
+yellowish tint crept into the ruddy copper of his skin. This agitation
+was wholly disproportionate to what Mary was telling him. Stonor
+wondered afresh. Etzooah stammered out a question.
+
+Mary said in her impassive way: "Etzooah say how we know that was the
+White Medicine Man's body?"
+
+"Was there any other man there?" said Stonor.
+
+When this was repeated to the Indian he clapped his hands to his head.
+"Non! Non!" he muttered.
+
+Stonor indicated Clare. "She said it was Imbrie's body. She was his
+wife."
+
+Etzooah stared stupidly at Clare.
+
+Suddenly he started to rise.
+
+Mary said: "He say he got go now."
+
+Stonor laid a heavy hand on the Indian's shoulder. "Sit down! Not until
+this matter is explained. Perhaps the man did not kill himself. Perhaps
+he was murdered."
+
+Etzooah seemed beside himself with terror.
+
+"Ask him what he's afraid of?"
+
+"He say he sick in his mind because his friend is dead."
+
+"Nonsense! This is not grief, but terror. Tell him I want the truth now.
+I asked as a friend at first: now I ask in the name of the law."
+
+Etzooah suddenly rolled away on the ground out of Stonor's reach. Then,
+springing to his feet with incredible swiftness, he cut for the water's
+edge. But Mary stuck out her leg in his path and he came to earth with a
+thud. Stonor secured him. Clare from where she sat looked up with
+startled eyes.
+
+"For the last time I ask you what you know about this matter," said
+Stonor sternly. "If you refuse to answer, I'll carry you outside and put
+you in the white man's jail."
+
+Etzooah answered sullenly.
+
+"He say he know not'ing," said Mary.
+
+"Get the tracking-line, and help me tie his hands and feet."
+
+When Etzooah saw that Stonor really meant to do what he said, he
+collapsed.
+
+"He say he tell now," said Mary.
+
+Etzooah spoke rapidly and tremblingly to Mary. Little doubt now that he
+was telling the truth, thought Stonor, watching him. The effect of his
+communication on the stolid Mary was startling in the extreme. She
+started back, and the same look of panic terror appeared in her eyes.
+She was unable to speak.
+
+"For God's sake, what's the matter with you all?" cried Stonor.
+
+Mary moistened her dry lips. She faltered: "He say--he say he so scare
+when you say you find Imbrie's body five sleeps ago because--because two
+sleeps ago Imbrie spell wit' him beside the river."
+
+It was the turn of Stonor's jaw to drop, and his eyes to stare.
+"But--but this is nonsense!" he cried.
+
+Clare could no longer contain her curiosity. "What is the matter,
+Martin?" she asked.
+
+"Some red-skin mumbo-jumbo," he answered angrily. "I'll soon get to the
+bottom of it."
+
+Lowering his voice, he said to Mary: "Have him tell me exactly what
+happened two sleeps ago."
+
+Mary translated as Etzooah spoke. "Two sleeps ago. The sun was half-way
+to the middle of the sky. I spell down river near the rapids on the
+point where the tepee-poles are. I see White Medicine Man come paddling
+up. I moch surprise see him all alone because I know you gone down to
+see him. I call to him. He come on shore to me."
+
+"What kind of a canoe?" asked Stonor.
+
+"Kakisa canoe. Got willow-branches in it, for cause Eembrie sit on his
+knees and paddle, not like Kakisa."
+
+This was a convincing detail. Little beads of perspiration sprang out on
+Stonor's brow.
+
+Etzooah went on: "We talk----"
+
+"Could he speak Kakisa?"
+
+"No. We talk by signs. He know some Kakisa words. I teach him that. I
+say to him Red-coat and White girl gone down river to see you. You not
+see them? How is that? Eembrie laugh: say: 'I see them, but they not see
+me. Red-coat want to get me I guess, so I run away.' Eembrie say: 'Don'
+you tell Red-coat you see me.' That is why I not want tell. I mean no
+harm. Eembrie is my friend. I not want police to get him."
+
+Stonor scarcely heard the last words. His world was tumbling around his
+ears. But Etzooah's and Mary's sly, scared glances in his face brought
+him to himself. "Anything more?" he asked harshly.
+
+Etzooah hastened on: "Eembrie moch in a hurry. Not want spell. Say he
+come away so quick got no grub but duck him shoot. I got not'ing but
+little rabbit, but I say, come to my camp, got plenty dry meat, dry
+fish. So we paddle up river till the sun is near gone under. Eembrie not
+talk much. Eembrie not want come to my camp. Not want my wife, my
+brot'er, my children see him. My camp little way from river. Eembrie
+wait beside the river. I go bring him dry meat, dry fish, matches and a
+hatchet. Eembrie go up river. That is all."
+
+The story had a convincing ring. So far as it went Stonor could scarcely
+doubt it, though there was much else that needed to be explained. It
+pricked the bubble of his brief happiness. How was he going to tell
+Clare? He had much ado to keep his face under the Indians' curious
+glances. They naturally were ascribing their terrors to him. This idea
+caused him to smile grimly.
+
+"What kind of a gun did Imbrie have?" he asked.
+
+Etzooah replied through Mary that he had not seen Imbrie's gun, that it
+was probably covered by his blankets.
+
+Stonor seemed to be pondering deeply on what he had heard. As a matter
+of fact, conscious only of the hurt he had received, he was incapable of
+consecutive thought. The damnable question reiterated itself. "How am I
+going to tell Clare?" Even now she was waiting with her eyes upon him
+for some word. He dared not look at her.
+
+He was roused by hearing Etzooah and Mary talking together in scared
+voices.
+
+"What does Etzooah say?" he demanded.
+
+Mary faltered: "He say Eembrie got ver' strong medicine. Him not stay
+dead."
+
+"That is nonsense. You saw the body. Could a man without a face come to
+life?"
+
+She asked Etzooah timidly if Imbrie's face was all right.
+
+"Well, what does he say?" Stonor demanded with a scornful smile.
+
+"He say Eembrie's face smooth lak a baby's," Mary replied with downcast
+eyes.
+
+"If Etzooah's story is true it was another man's body that we buried,"
+said Stonor dejectedly.
+
+He saw by the dogged expression on both red faces that they would not
+have this. They insisted on the supernatural explanation. In a way they
+loved the mystery that scared them half out of their wits.
+
+"What man's body was that?" asked Etzooah, challengingly.
+
+And Stonor could not answer. Etzooah insisted that no other man had gone
+down the river, certainly no white man. Stonor knew from the condition
+of the portage trail that no one had come up from below that season.
+There remained the possibility that Imbrie had brought in a companion
+with him, but everything in his shack had been designed for a single
+occupant; moreover the diary gave the lie to this supposition. Etzooah
+said that he had been to Imbrie's shack the previous fall, and there was
+no other man there then. There were moments when the bewildered
+policeman was almost forced to fall back on the supernatural
+explanation.
+
+It would never do for him, though, to betray bewilderment; not only the
+two Indians, but Clare, looked to him for guidance. He must not think of
+the wreck of his own hopes, but only of what must be done next. He rose
+stiffly, and gave Mary the word to pack up. At any rate his duty was
+clear. The fleeing Imbrie held the key to the mystery, and he must be
+captured--Imbrie, Clare's husband, and now a possible murderer!
+
+"Martin, tell me what's the matter," Clare said again, as he held the
+dug-out for her to get in.
+
+"I'll tell you as soon as I get rid of this Indian," he said, with as
+easy an air as he could muster.
+
+He ordered Etzooah to take him to his camp, as he wished to search it,
+and to question his family. The Indian stolidly prepared to obey.
+
+It was at no great distance up-stream. It consisted of three tepees
+hidden from the river, a Kakisa custom dating from the days when they
+had warlike enemies. The tepees were occupied by Etzooah's immediate
+family, and the households respectively of his brother and his
+brother-in-law.
+
+The search and the examination revealed but one significant fact, and
+that corroborated Etzooah's story. Two days before he had undoubtedly
+come into camp and had taken meat and fish from their slender store.
+Exerting the prerogative of the head of the family, he had declined to
+tell them what he wanted it for, and the women recited the fact to
+Stonor as a grievance. It was a vastly relieved Etzooah that Stonor left
+among his relatives. The fear of being carried off among the white men
+remained with him until he saw the policeman out of sight. Stonor had
+warned him to say nothing of what had happened down-river.
+
+Stonor rejoined Clare and Mary, and they continued up-stream. Stonor had
+now to tell Clare what he had learned. She was waiting for it. In her
+anxious face there was only solicitude for him, no suspicion that the
+affair concerned herself. He had wished to wait until night, but he saw
+that he could not travel all day in silence with her. No use beating
+about the bush either; she was an intelligent being and worthy of
+hearing the truth.
+
+"Clare," he began, avoiding her eyes, "you know I told you how I found
+your husband's body in the river, but I did not tell you--I merely
+wished to spare you something horrible--that it was much mutilated by
+being thrown against the rocks, especially the face."
+
+She paled. "How did you know then--how did we know that it was he?" she
+asked, with a catch in her breath.
+
+"You appeared to recognize it. You cried out his name before you
+fainted. I thought there must be certain marks known to you."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"It appears we were mistaken. It must have been the body of another man.
+According to the story the Indian has just told, Imbrie went up the
+river two days ago. The story is undoubtedly true. There were details he
+could not have invented."
+
+There was a silence. When he dared look at her, he saw with relief that
+she was not so greatly affected as he had feared. She was still thinking
+of him, Stonor.
+
+"Martin," she murmured, deprecatingly, "there's no use pretending. I
+don't seem to feel it much except through you. You are so distressed.
+For myself it all seems--so unreal."
+
+He nodded. "That's natural."
+
+She continued to study his face. "Martin, there's worse behind?" she
+said suddenly.
+
+He looked away.
+
+"You suspect that this man ... my husband ... whom I do not know ...
+that other man ... murder, perhaps?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+She covered her face with her hands. But only for a moment. When they
+came down she could still smile at him.
+
+"Martin, do not look so, or I shall hate myself for having brought all
+this on you."
+
+"That's silly," he said gruffly.
+
+She did not misunderstand the gruffness. "Do not torment yourself so.
+It's a horrible situation, unspeakably horrible. But it's none of our
+making. We can face it. I can, if I am sure you will always--be my
+friend--even though we are parted."
+
+He raised his head. After all she was the comforter. "You make me
+ashamed," he said. "Of course we can face it!"
+
+"Perhaps I can help you. I must try to remember now. We must work at it
+like a problem that does not concern us especially."
+
+"Have you the diary?" he asked suddenly. "That's essential now."
+
+"Did I have it?"
+
+"In the side pocket of your coat."
+
+"It's not there now. It's not among my things. I haven't seen it
+since--I came to myself."
+
+He concealed his disappointment. "Oh, well, if it was left in the shack
+it will be safe there. I'm sure no Indian would go within fifty miles of
+the spot now."
+
+"Have you any idea who the dead man could have been?"
+
+"Not the slightest. It's a black mystery."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+IMBRIE
+
+
+Stonor went ashore at Ahcunazie's village, searched every tepee, and
+questioned the inhabitants down to the very children. The result was
+nil. The Indians one and all denied that Imbrie had come back up the
+river. Stonor was convinced that they were lying. He said nothing of
+what had happened down at the falls, though the young Kakisa, Ahteeah,
+displayed no little curiosity on his own account.
+
+They went on, making the best time they could against the current. Clare
+wielded a third paddle now. The river was no less beautiful; the brown
+flood moved with the same grace between the dark pines; but they had
+changed. They scarcely noticed it. When they talked it was to discuss
+the problem that faced them in businesslike voices. Like the Kakisas
+they searched the shores now, but they were looking for two-legged game.
+What other Indians they met on the river likewise denied having seen
+Imbrie.
+
+Stonor had in mind the fact that the devoted Kakisas could hide Imbrie
+in any one of a thousand places along the shores. It was impossible for
+him to make a thorough search single-handed, nor did he feel justified
+in remaining on the river with Clare. His plan was to return to Fort
+Enterprise as quickly as possible, making the best search he could by
+the way, and, after obtaining assistance, to return. In the end, unless
+he got out, the river would be like a trap for Imbrie. It was quite
+likely that he understood this, and was even now struggling to get away
+as far as possible.
+
+On the morning of the tenth day after leaving Imbrie's shack they
+arrived at the Horse Track, and Ahchoogah's village. Their coming was
+hailed with the same noisy excitement, in which there was no trace of a
+welcome. Stonor instantly sought out the head man, and abruptly demanded
+to know when Imbrie had returned, and where he had gone. Ahchoogah, with
+the most perfect air of surprise, denied all knowledge of the White
+Medicine Man, and in his turn sought to question Stonor as to what had
+happened. It was possible, of course, that Ahchoogah's innocence was
+real, but he had the air of an accomplished liar. He could not quite
+conceal the satisfaction he took in his own fine acting.
+
+Stonor posted Clare at the door of the shack, whence she could overlook
+the entire village, with instructions to raise an alarm if she saw
+anybody trying to escape. Meanwhile, with Mary, he made his usual search
+among the tepees, questioning all the people. Nothing resulted from
+this, but on his rounds he was greatly elated to discover among the
+canoes lying in the little river the one with the peculiar notches cut
+in the bow-thwart. So he was still on his man's track! He said nothing
+to any one of his find.
+
+He set himself to puzzle out in which direction Imbrie would likely next
+have turned. Certainly not to Fort Enterprise; that would be sticking
+his head in the lion's mouth. It was possible Ahchoogah might have
+concealed him in the surrounding bush, but Stonor doubted that, for they
+knew that the policeman must soon be back, and their instinct would be
+to get the man safely out of his way. There remained the third Kakisa
+village at Swan Lake, seventy miles up the river, but in that case, why
+should he not have gone on in the canoe? However, Stonor learned from
+Mary that it was customary for the Kakisas to ride to Swan Lake. While
+it was three days' paddle up-stream it could be ridden in a day. In
+fact, everything pointed to Swan Lake. If Imbrie was trying to get out
+of the country altogether the upper Swan provided the only route in this
+direction. Stonor decided to take the time to pay a little surprise
+visit to the village there.
+
+Stonor announced at large that he was returning to Fort Enterprise that
+same day. Ahchoogah's anxiety to speed his departure further assured him
+that he was on the right track. Collecting their horses and packing up,
+they were ready for the trail about five that afternoon. The Indians
+were more cordial in bidding them farewell than they had been in
+welcoming them. There was a suspicious note of "good riddance" in it.
+
+After an hour's riding they came to the first good grass, a charming
+little "prairie" beside the stream that Clare had christened Meander.
+Stonor dismounted, and the two women, reining up, looked at him in
+surprise, for they had eaten just before leaving the Indian village, and
+the horses were quite fresh, of course.
+
+"Would you and Mary be afraid to stay here all night without me?" he
+asked Clare.
+
+"Not if it is necessary," she answered promptly. "That is, if you are
+not going into danger," she added.
+
+He laughed. "Danger! Not the slightest! I think I know where Imbrie is.
+I'm going after him."
+
+Clare's eyes widened. "I thought you had given him up for the present."
+
+He shook his head. "I couldn't tell you back there, but I found his
+canoe among the others."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To the Kakisa village at Swan Lake."
+
+He saw Mary's expression change slightly, and took encouragement
+therefrom. Mary, he knew, divided between her loyalty to Clare and her
+allegiance to her own people, was in a difficult position. Stonor was
+very sure, though, that he could depend on her to stand by Clare.
+
+"Haven't you come far out of your way?" Clare asked.
+
+"Not so far as you might think. We've been travelling south the last few
+miles. By crossing the Meander here and heading east through the bush
+I'll hit the Swan River in four miles or so. I'll be out of the bush
+long before dark. I've heard there's a short-cut trail somewhere, if I
+only knew where to find it."
+
+He said this purposely within Mary's hearing. She spoke up: "Other side
+this little prairie where the ford is. There the trail begins."
+
+Stonor was not a little touched by this. "Good for you, Mary!" he said
+simply. "I shan't forget it. You've saved me a struggle through the
+bush."
+
+Mary only looked inscrutable. One had to take her feelings for granted.
+
+"When will you be back?" Clare asked.
+
+"By land it's about ninety miles' round trip. As I must ride the same
+horse the whole way, say three or four to-morrow afternoon. I won't take
+Miles Aroon, he's too valuable to risk. I'll ride the bay. If anything
+should delay me Tole Grampierre is due to arrive from the post day after
+to-morrow."
+
+They made camp beside the ford that Mary pointed out. Clare waved Stonor
+out of sight with a smile. His mind was at ease about her, for he knew
+of no dangers that could threaten her there, if her fears created none.
+
+The side trail was little-used and rough, and he was forced to proceed
+at a slow walk: the roughest trail, however, is infinitely better than
+the untrodden bush. This part of the country had been burned over years
+before, and the timber was poplar and fairly open. Long before dark he
+came into the main trail between the two Indian villages. This was
+well-travelled and hard, and he needed to take no further thought about
+picking his way; the horse attended to that. For the most part the going
+was so good he had to hold his beast in, to keep him from tiring too
+quickly. He saw the river only at intervals on his right hand in its
+wide sweeps back and forth through its shallow valley.
+
+He spelled for his supper, and darkness came on. Stonor loved travelling
+at night, and the unknown trail added a zest to this ride. The night
+world was as quiet as a room. Where one can see less one feels more. The
+scents of night hung heavy on the still air; the pungency of poplar, the
+mellowness of balsam, the bland smell of river-water that makes the skin
+tingle with desire to bathe, the delicate acidity of grass that caused
+his horse to whicker. The trail alternated pretty regularly between
+wooded ridges, where the stones caused him to slacken his pace, and long
+traverses of the turfy river-bottoms, where he could give his horse his
+head. Twice during the night he picketed his horse in the grass, and
+took a short nap himself. At dawn, from the last ridge, he saw the pale
+expanse of Swan Lake stretching to the horizon, and at sun-up he rode
+among the tepees of the Kakisa village.
+
+It was built on the edge of the firm ground bordering the lake, though
+the lake itself was still half a mile distant across a wet meadow. Swan
+Lake was not a true lake, but merely a widening of the river where it
+filled a depression among its low hills. With its flat, reedy shores it
+had more the characteristics of a prairie slough. As in the last
+village, the tepees were raised in a double row alongside a small stream
+which made its way across the meadow to the lake. In the middle of their
+village the stream rippled over shallows, and here they had placed
+stepping-stones for their convenience in crossing. Below it was sluggish
+and deep, and here they kept their canoes. These Kakisas used both
+dug-outs, for the lake, and bark-canoes for the river. The main body of
+the lake stretched to the west and south: off to Stonor's right it
+gradually narrowed down to the ordinary dimensions of the river.
+
+When Stonor reined up alongside the little stream not a soul was
+stirring outside the tepees. He had at least succeeded in taking them by
+surprise. The first man who stuck his head out, aroused by the dogs,
+was, to his astonishment, white. But when Stonor got a good look at him
+he could scarcely credit his eyes. It was none other than Hooliam, the
+handsome young blackguard he had deported from Carcajou Point two months
+before. Seeing the policeman, Hooliam hastily made to withdraw his head,
+but Stonor ordered him out in no uncertain terms. He obeyed with his
+inimitable insolent grin.
+
+Stonor dismounted, letting his reins hang. The well-trained horse stood
+where he left him. "What are you doing here?" the policeman demanded.
+
+"Just travelling," drawled Hooliam. "Any objection?"
+
+"I'll take up your case later. First I want the white man Ernest Imbrie.
+Which tepee is he in?"
+
+Hooliam stared, and a peculiar grin wreathed itself around his lips.
+"I've seen no white man here," he said. "Except myself. They call me a
+white man." He spoke English without a trace of the red man's clipped
+idiom.
+
+Stonor's glance of scorn was significant. It meant: "What are you doing
+in the tepees, then?"
+
+But the other was quite unabashed. "I'll get Myengeen for you," he said,
+turning to go.
+
+He seemed a bit too eager. Stonor laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+"You stay where you are."
+
+Meanwhile the little Kakisas had begun to appear from the tepees, the
+men hanging back bashfully, the women and children peering from under
+flaps and under the edges of the tepees, with scared eyes.
+
+"I want Myengeen," said Stonor to the nearest man.
+
+All heads turned to a figure crossing the stream. Stonor waited for him,
+keeping an eye on Hooliam meanwhile. The individual who approached was a
+little larger than the average of the Kakisas; well-favoured, and with a
+great shock of blue-black hair hanging to his neck. He was quite
+sprucely dressed in store clothes. His close-set eyes and extremely
+short upper lip gave him a perpetual sneer. He had the walled look of a
+bold child caught in mischief. He came up to Stonor and offered his hand
+with a defiant air, saying: "How!"
+
+Stonor shook hands with him, affecting not to notice the signs of
+truculence. The other Indians, encouraged by the presence of their head
+man, drew closer.
+
+"I want Ernest Imbrie," Stonor said sternly. "Where is he?"
+
+Myengeen could speak no English, but the spoken name and the tone were
+significant enough. He fell back a step, and scowled at Stonor as if he
+suspected him of a desire to make fun of him. Then his eyes went
+involuntarily to Hooliam. Stonor, following his glance, was struck by
+the odd, self-conscious leer on Hooliam's comely face. Suddenly it
+flashed on him that this was his man. His face went blank with
+astonishment. The supposed Hooliam laughed outright.
+
+"Is _this_ Imbrie??" cried Stonor.
+
+Myengeen nodded sullenly.
+
+Hooliam said something in Kakisa that caused the surrounding Indians to
+grin covertly.
+
+And in truth there was a comic aspect to Stonor's dismay. His brain was
+whirling. This hardy young villain married to the exquisite Clare! This
+the saviour of the Indians! This the high-minded gentleman whose diary
+Clare had read to him! It was inexplicable. Yet Stonor suddenly
+remembered Hooliam's curiosity concerning the reports that were in
+circulation about the White Medicine Man; this was understandable now.
+But how could Clare have so stooped----? Well, it must be left to time
+to unravel.
+
+He pulled himself together. "So you're Imbrie," he said grimly.
+
+"That was my dad's name," was the impudent reply.
+
+"I'll have to trouble you to take a journey with me."
+
+"What's the charge?"
+
+"Oh, we merely want to look into your doings up here."
+
+"You have no right to arrest me without some evidence of wrong-doing."
+
+"Well, I'm going to arrest you anyhow, and take my chances of proving
+something on you."
+
+Hooliam scowled and pulled at his lip.
+
+Stonor thought: "You'd give a lot to know how much I know, my man!"
+
+Myengeen addressed Imbrie. Stonor watched him narrowly. He could only
+understand one word, the man's name, "Eembrie," but Myengeen's whole
+attitude to the other was significant. There was respect in it;
+admiration, not unmixed with awe. Stonor wondered afresh. Clearly there
+could be no doubt this was their White Medicine Man.
+
+Imbrie said to Stonor, with his cynical laugh: "I suppose you want to
+know what he's saying. I don't understand it all. I'm just learning
+their lingo. But he's offering me the homage of the tribe or something
+like that."
+
+"It's more than you deserve," thought Stonor. Aloud he said: "Imbrie, if
+you do what I tell you you can ride as you are. But if you want to make
+trouble I'll have to tie you up. So take your choice."
+
+"Oh, I don't hanker after any hempen bracelets," said Imbrie. "What do
+you want of me?"
+
+"First of all order somebody to bring out all your gear and spread it on
+the ground."
+
+"That's not much," said Imbrie. By word and by sign he communicated the
+order to one of the Kakisas. It seemed to Stonor that something was
+reserved.
+
+The Indian disappeared in the tepee and presently returned with Imbrie's
+"bed," that is to say, a pair of heavy blankets and a small, grimy
+pillow, and Imbrie's hatchet.
+
+"That's all I brought," said Imbrie, "except a little dried moose-meat,
+and that's eaten up."
+
+"I want your gun," said Stonor.
+
+"Didn't bring any."
+
+"Then what are you wearing a cartridge-belt for?" Imbrie shrugged
+airily.
+
+"Produce your gun, or I'll tie you up, and search for it myself."
+
+Imbrie spoke, and the Kakisa disappeared again, returning with a
+revolver, which he handed to Stonor. Stonor was careful not to betray
+the grim satisfaction he experienced at the sight of it. It was of
+thirty-eight calibre, the same as the bullet that reposed in his pocket.
+While not conclusive, perhaps, this was strong evidence. Since he had
+seen this man he had lost his dread of bringing the crime home to him.
+He wished to convict him now. He dropped the revolver in his side
+pocket, and held out his hand for the ammunition-belt, which was handed
+over.
+
+"Now get a horse," he said.
+
+Myengeen objected with violent shakes of the head.
+
+"He says he's got no horses to hand over," said Imbrie, grinning.
+
+"Make him understand that I will give a receipt for the horse. If it is
+not returned the company will pay in trade."
+
+"No spare horses," he says.
+
+"Let him give you the horse you came on."
+
+"I walked."
+
+Stonor did not believe this for a moment. "Very well then, you can walk
+back," he said coolly.
+
+Imbrie thought better of this. He entered into a colloquy with Myengeen
+which eventually resulted in a horse being caught and led up and
+saddled. Stonor gave a receipt for it as promised. Myengeen handled the
+bit of paper fearfully.
+
+"Now mount!" said Stonor.
+
+"Aren't you going to let me have my breakfast?"
+
+"We'll spell beside the trail."
+
+Myengeen became visibly excited and began to harangue Imbrie in a fiery
+style, with sidelong looks at the policeman. Stonor out of the tail of
+his eye saw answering scowls gather on the faces of the other Indians as
+they listened. Myengeen's gestures were significant; with a sweep of his
+arm he called attention to the number of his followers, and then pointed
+to Stonor, who was but one.
+
+Imbrie said with a sneering laugh: "He's telling me that I have only to
+say the word, and you'll never take me."
+
+"Rubbish!" said Stonor coolly. "Men do not oppose the police."
+
+They could not understand the words, but the tone intimidated them.
+Their eyes bolted as he looked sternly from man to man. He saw that look
+of angry pain come into their eyes that he knew in their race. It was
+not that they did not wish to defy him, but they dared not, and they
+knew they dared not.
+
+"Oh, I'm helping you out, old man," said Imbrie, with airy impudence.
+"I'm telling them I don't mind going with you, because you've got
+nothing in the world against me. I'm going to give them some good advice
+now. Listen."
+
+He did indeed address Myengeen earnestly at some length. Stonor could
+not guess what he was saying, for he used no gestures. He saw that it
+was true Imbrie was unpractised in their tongue, for he spoke with
+difficulty, hesitating for words, and they had to pay close attention to
+get his meaning. Myengeen listened with a face as inscrutable as
+Imbrie's own. At the end he nodded with an expression of approval, and
+bent a queer look on Stonor that the trooper was unable to fathom.
+
+Imbrie then tied his bed behind his saddle and swung himself on the
+horse. Stonor signed to him to start first, and they trotted out from
+among the tepees. Stonor sat stiffly with the butt of his gun on his
+thigh, and disdained to look around. The instant they got in motion a
+wailing sound swept from tepee to tepee. Stonor wondered greatly at the
+hold this fellow had obtained over the simple people; even the Kakisas,
+it seemed to him, should have been able to see that he was no good.
+
+They trotted smartly over the first ridge and out of sight. A long,
+grassy bottom followed. When they had put what Stonor considered a safe
+distance between them and the village, he called a halt. Picketing the
+horses, and building a fire, he set about preparing their simple meal.
+Imbrie seemed willing enough to do his share of unpacking, fetching wood
+and water, etc.; indeed in his cynical way he was almost good-natured.
+
+As they sat over their meal he said tauntingly: "Why are you afraid to
+tell me what the charge is against me?"
+
+Stonor had no intention of letting out what he knew. He figured that
+Imbrie's mind was probably perfectly at ease regarding the
+murder--always supposing there had been a murder--because he could not
+possibly guess that the body had not been carried over the falls. He
+retorted: "If your conscience is easy, what do you care what charge is
+made?"
+
+"Naturally I want to know why I'm obliged to upset all my plans to make
+this journey."
+
+"There is no charge yet."
+
+"But when you bring me in you'll have to make some kind of a charge."
+
+"Oh, I suppose they'll merely ask you to explain your business up here."
+
+"And if I stand on my rights as a free man, and refuse to tell my
+business?"
+
+Stonor shrugged. "That's not up to me. I shan't be the one to question
+you."
+
+"Is it a crime to live alone?"
+
+"No. But why did you run away when I came to see you?"
+
+"I didn't run away."
+
+"Don't know what you call it, then. When you saw us coming you hid in a
+tree."
+
+"Who was us?" asked Imbrie, with a leer.
+
+Stonor could not bring himself to name Clare's name to the man. "I think
+you know," he said quietly. "When night came you fell or jumped out of
+the tree, and took to the bush. Later you attempted to sneak into the
+house----"
+
+"Well, it was my own house, wasn't it?"
+
+"Sure, that's what puzzles me. What were you afraid of? Then when the
+Indian woman screamed you lit out for the beach, and beat it up the
+river."
+
+"Well, was that a crime?"
+
+"No, only a suspicious circumstance. Frankly, now, don't you consider
+yourself a suspicious character?"
+
+"Oh, it's your business to suspect everybody!"
+
+"Well, when I first met you, why did you lie to me concerning your
+identity?"
+
+"I didn't lie. I just kept the truth to myself."
+
+"You told me your name was Hooliam."
+
+"Can't a man have more than one baptismal name?"
+
+"Is it Ernest William, or William Ernest?" asked Stonor mockingly.
+
+"I shan't tell you. I shan't tell you anything about myself until I
+know what I'm wanted for. I suppose that's my right, isn't it?"
+
+"Sure!" said Stonor good-naturedly. "Anything you like. Travellers must
+be saying something to each other."
+
+But Imbrie was not content to let the matter drop. There was a little
+gnawing anxiety somewhere. He burst out: "And have I got to put myself
+to the trouble of taking this long journey, just because you're too
+thick-witted to understand my perfectly natural motives?"
+
+"Put it that way if you like," said Stonor, grinning. "The police _are_
+thick sometimes in dealing with clever fellows like you."
+
+"Well, I'll tell you. I came up to this country because I choose to live
+alone. My reasons are my own affair. I'm not wanted by the police of
+this or any other country. But I don't choose to be spied on and
+followed up. That's why I got out of the way."
+
+"Did you live alone down there?" asked Stonor casually.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, there was that lady who left Carcajou Point with you."
+
+"Oh, that was just a temporary affair," said Imbrie, with a leer.
+
+Stonor, thinking of Clare, could have struck him for it. With an effort
+he swallowed his rage. "Did you never have any visitors?" he asked
+coolly.
+
+Imbrie favoured him with a lightning glance. "What put that idea into
+your head?"
+
+Stonor lied in the good cause. "One of the Indians said you had a
+visitor."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Just a few days before we went down."
+
+"What kind of visitor?"
+
+"A man much like yourself," said Stonor.
+
+Imbrie lost his grin for the moment. "It's a lie," he said thickly.
+
+"Oh, well, it's no crime to have a visitor," said Stonor smoothly.
+
+Imbrie saw his mistake, and quickly commanded himself. He laughed
+easily. "Just my way," he said. "I'm cracked on the subject of living
+alone."
+
+They had to spell at short intervals during the day, for Stonor's horse
+was growing very tired. Whenever they halted they began to fence with
+words in much the same way, each trying to discover the other's weak
+joint without letting down his own guard. It seemed to Stonor that,
+under his cynical insolence, his prisoner was growing ever more anxious.
+
+On one occasion Imbrie said with a careless air: "Did you see the big
+falls when you were down the river?"
+
+"No," said Stonor instantly.
+
+"Very fine sight."
+
+It occurred to Stonor that a certain amount of curiosity on his part
+would appear natural. "What are they like?"
+
+Imbrie looked at him through slightly narrowed lids. "Big horse-shoe
+effect. The water falls all around in a sort of half-circle, and there
+are tremendous rocks below. The water falls on the rocks."
+
+This description sounded purposely misleading. The place, of course, was
+not like that at all. Stonor thought: "What does he tell me that for?
+Living there all that time, it isn't possible he hasn't seen the falls.
+In his diary he mentioned going there." Suddenly the explanation came to
+him. "I know! He's trying to tempt me to call him a liar, and then he'll
+know I've been there."
+
+"Must be great!" he said offhand.
+
+During the last spell Imbrie slept part of the time. Stonor dared not
+close his eyes, though he needed sleep sorely. He sat smoking and
+watching Imbrie, trying to speculate on what lay behind that smooth,
+comely mask.
+
+"It's like a book I read once," he thought. "A man had two natures in
+him, one good, one bad. At one time the good nature would have the upper
+hand; at another time the bad. He was like two entirely different
+people. A case of double personality, they called it. It must be
+something like that with this man. Clare married the good man in him,
+and the bad turned up later. No doubt that was why she left him. Then
+the good man reappeared, and she felt she had done him a wrong. It
+explains everything."
+
+But a theory may work too perfectly to fit the haphazard facts of life.
+There was still the dead man to be explained. And a theory, however
+perfect, did not bring him any nearer to solving the personal problems
+concerned. What was one to do with a man who was at once sane and
+irresponsible? He could give up Clare like a man, he told himself, if it
+were necessary to her happiness; but to give her up to this----! He
+jumped up and shook himself with the gesture that was becoming habitual.
+He could not allow himself to dwell on that subject; frenzy lay that
+way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE RESCUE
+
+
+They had struck off from the main trail between the two Indian villages,
+and were within a mile or two of Stonor's camp. Their pace was slow, for
+the going was bad, and Stonor's horse was utterly jaded. The trooper's
+face was set in grim lines. He was thinking of the scene that waited
+ahead.
+
+Imbrie, too, had the grace to look anxious and downcast. He had been
+exasperatingly chipper all the way, until it had occurred to him just
+now to ask Stonor what he had done with the women. Upon learning that
+they were waiting just ahead, his feathers drooped. A whine crept into
+his voice, and, without saying anything definite, he began to hedge in
+an odd way.
+
+"The truth about this case hasn't come out yet," he said.
+
+"I never thought it had," said Stonor.
+
+"Well, a man under arrest has the right to lie to protect his interests,
+at least until he has the opportunity to consult a lawyer."
+
+"Sure, and an officer has the right to draw his own inferences from the
+lies."
+
+"Hell! I don't care what you think. As you said, you're not going to try
+me."
+
+"When did you lie to me?"
+
+"Well, if I thought it necessary to lie to you awhile ago, I'm not going
+to tell the truth now."
+
+"All right. Why bring the matter up?"
+
+"I just wanted to warn you not to jump to conclusions."
+
+The trooper was dead tired, and dead sick of gazing at the smooth, evil
+face of his companion. "Oh, go to hell!" he said. "You talk too much!"
+
+Imbrie subsided into a sullen silence.
+
+Stonor thought: "For some reason he's afraid of meeting Clare. I suppose
+that's natural enough when he's like this. He must know what's the
+matter with him. Probably he hates everything connected with his better
+side. Well, if he doesn't want Clare it may simplify matters." Thus he
+was still making his theory work.
+
+At last they came out from among the trees, and the little grassy valley
+of the Meander lay below them. There were the three little tents pitched
+on the other side of the stream, and the four horses quietly grazing in
+the bottom. Mary was baking bread at the fire. It was a picture of
+peace, and Stonor's first anxiety for their safety was relieved.
+
+He had not the heart to hail them; they would see soon enough. And
+almost immediately Mary did look up and see the two horsemen. She spoke
+over her shoulder, and Clare quickly appeared from her tent. The two
+women awaited them motionless.
+
+Imbrie still rode ahead, hunched in his saddle. He glanced over his
+shoulder, and Stonor saw that a sickly yellow tint had crept under his
+skin. He looked at Stonor's failing horse. Suddenly he clapped heels to
+his own beast, and, jerking the animal's head round, circled Stonor and
+attempted to regain the trail behind him. He evidently counted on the
+fact that the policeman would be unable to follow.
+
+To urge his spent beast to a run would only have been to provoke a fall.
+Stonor made no attempt to follow. Pulling his horse round, he whipped up
+his gun and fired into the air. It was sufficient. Imbrie pulled up.
+Stonor possessed himself of the other's bridle-rein and turned him round
+again. They said nothing to each other.
+
+They splashed across the shallow ford. On the other side Stonor curtly
+bade Imbrie to dismount and ungirth. He did likewise. Clare and Mary
+awaited their coming at a few paces' distance. Clare's eyes were fixed
+on Imbrie with a painful intensity. Curiosity and apprehension were
+blended in her gaze. Imbrie avoided looking at her as long as possible.
+
+They turned out the weary beasts to the grass, and Stonor marched his
+prisoner up to Clare--there was no use trying to hedge with what had to
+be gone through.
+
+"Here is Imbrie," he said laconically.
+
+The man moistened his dry lips, and mustered a kind of bravado. "Hello,
+Clare!" he said flippantly.
+
+"Do you recognize him?" asked Stonor--dreading her answer.
+
+"No--I don't know--perhaps," she stammered. "I feel that I have seen him
+before somewhere."
+
+Imbrie's face underwent an extraordinary change. He stared at Clare
+dumbfounded.
+
+"You're sure," murmured Clare uncertainly to Stonor.
+
+"Oh, yes, this is the Kakisas' White Medicine Man."
+
+Imbrie turned sharply to Stonor. "What's the matter with her?" he
+demanded.
+
+"She's temporarily lost her memory."
+
+"Lost her memory!" echoed Imbrie incredulously. He stared at Clare with
+sharp, eager eyes that transfixed her like a spear. She turned away to
+escape it. Imbrie drew a long breath, the ruddy colour returned to his
+cheeks, the old impudent grin wreathed itself about his lips once more.
+
+"Too bad!" he said, with a leer. "You don't recognize your hubby!"
+
+Clare shrank back, and involuntarily flung an arm up over her face.
+
+Stonor saw red. "Hold your tongue!" he cried, suddenly beside himself.
+
+Imbrie cringed from the clenched fist. "Can't a man speak to his wife?"
+he snarled.
+
+"Speak to her with respect, or I'll smash you!"
+
+"You daren't! You've got to treat me well. It's regulations."
+
+"Damn the regulations! You mind what I tell you!"
+
+Imbrie looked from one to another with insufferable malice. "Ah! So
+that's the way the wind lies," he drawled.
+
+Stonor turned on his heel and walked away, grinding his teeth in the
+effort to get a grip on himself.
+
+Imbrie was never one to forego such an advantage. He looked from one to
+another with bright, spiteful eyes. When Stonor came back he said:
+
+"You must excuse me if I gave you a turn. To tell the truth, a man
+forgets how attractive his wife is. I'm sorry I had to turn up, old man.
+Perhaps you didn't know that she had a Mrs. to her name. She took back
+her maiden name, they told me."
+
+"I knew it very well," said Stonor. "Since before we started to look for
+you."
+
+"Well, if you knew it, that's your look-out," said Imbrie. "You can't
+say I didn't do my best to keep out of your way."
+
+This was intolerable. Stonor suddenly bethought himself what to do. In a
+low voice he bade Mary bring him the tracking-line. Imbrie, who stood
+stroking his chin and surveying them with the air of master of the
+situation, lost countenance when he saw the rope. Stonor cut off an end
+of it.
+
+"What's that for?" demanded Imbrie.
+
+"Turn round and put your hands behind you," said the policeman.
+
+Imbrie defiantly folded his arms.
+
+Stonor smiled. "If you resist my orders," he said softly, "there is no
+need for me to hold my hand.--Put your hands behind you!" he suddenly
+rasped.
+
+Imbrie thought better to obey. Stonor bound his wrists firmly together.
+He then led Imbrie a hundred yards from their camp, and, making him sit
+in the grass, tied his ankles and invited him to meditate.
+
+"I'll get square with you for this, old man!" snarled Imbrie. "You had
+no right to tie me up!"
+
+"I didn't like the style of your conversation," said Stonor coolly.
+
+"You're damn right, you didn't! You snivelling preacher! You snooper
+after other men's wives! Oh, I've got you where I want you now! Any
+charge you bring against me will look foolish when I tell them----"
+
+"Tell them what?"
+
+"Tell them you're after her!"
+
+Stonor walked away and left the man.
+
+Clare still stood in the same place like a carven woman. She waited for
+him with wide, harassed eyes. As he came to her she said simply:
+
+"This is worse than I expected."
+
+"The man is not right in his head!" said Stonor. "There is something
+queer. Don't pay any attention to him. Don't think of him."
+
+"But I must think of him; I can't escape it. What do you mean by not
+right?"
+
+"A screw loose somewhere. What they call a case of double personality,
+perhaps. It is the only way to reconcile what you told me about him and
+what we see."
+
+Clare's glance was turned inward in the endeavour to solve the riddle of
+her own blind spot. She said slowly: "I have known him somewhere; I am
+sure of that. But he is strange to me. He makes my blood run cold. I
+cannot explain it."
+
+"Do not brood on it," urged Stonor.
+
+She transferred her thoughts to Stonor. "You look utterly worn out. Will
+you sleep now?"
+
+"Yes. We won't leave here until morning. My horse must have a good
+rest."
+
+"You'd wait for him, but not for yourself!"
+
+"Tole ought to be along in the morning to help pack, and to guard the
+prisoner."
+
+Before Stonor had a chance to lie down, Imbrie called him. There was a
+propitiatory note in his voice.
+
+The trooper went to him. "What do you want?" he asked sternly.
+
+"Say, I'm sorry I riled you, Sergeant," said Imbrie with a grin. "I was
+a bit carried off my feet by the situation. I'll be more careful
+hereafter. Untie this damned rope, will you?"
+
+Stonor slowly shook his head. "I think we're both better off with a
+little distance between us."
+
+Imbrie repented of his honeyed tones. His lip curled back. But he made
+an effort to control himself. "Aren't you afraid your spotless
+reputation will suffer?" he asked, sneering.
+
+"Not a bit!" said Stonor promptly.
+
+Imbrie was taken aback. "Well--can I speak to my wife for a minute?" he
+asked sullenly.
+
+Stonor observed, wincing, how he loved to bring out the word "wife."
+"That's up to her," he answered. "I'll put it to her."
+
+Returning to Clare, he said: "He wants to speak to you."
+
+She shrank involuntarily. "What should I do, Martin?"
+
+"I see nothing to be gained by it," said Stonor quickly.
+
+"But if, as you say, in a way he's sick, perhaps I ought----"
+
+"He's not too sick to have a devil in him. Leave him alone!"
+
+She shook her head. She was gaining in firmness. "It won't hurt me to
+hear what he has to say. It may throw some light on the situation."
+
+"I doubt it," said Stonor. "His object is to raise as much dust as
+possible. But go ahead. If he's insulting, leave him instantly. And
+don't let him know what I suspect him of."
+
+She went, and Stonor walked up and down in the grass in a fever until
+she returned. She was with Imbrie some little time. Stonor could not
+guess of what they talked. Clare's white composed face, and Imbrie's
+invariable grin, told him nothing.
+
+The instant she came towards him he burst out: "He didn't annoy you?"
+
+She shook her head. "No, he seemed quite anxious to please. He
+apologized for what he said before."
+
+Stonor said, blushing and scowling: "Perhaps you do not care to tell me
+what you----"
+
+"Certainly!" she said, with a quick look. "Don't be silly, Martin. It
+was just what you might expect. Nothing important. He asked me dozens of
+questions as to what we did down the river."
+
+"You did not tell him?"
+
+"How could I? Apparently he is greatly puzzled by my condition. He seems
+not fully to believe, or at least he pretends not to believe, that I
+cannot remember. He tried to work on my feelings to get you to liberate
+him. And of course he was most anxious to know what he was wanted for. I
+told him I could not interfere in your affairs, that's all."
+
+Stonor nodded.
+
+"Martin," she said, with the withdrawn look that he had marked before,
+"I cannot remember anything, yet I am conscious of a deep resentment
+against this man. At some time in the past he has injured me cruelly, I
+am sure.--Yet I told you I had injured him, didn't I?" She passed a hand
+across her face. "It is very puzzling."
+
+"Don't worry!" he said cheerily. "It's bound to be made clear in the
+end."
+
+"You wish to do all the worrying, don't you?" she said, with a wry
+smile.
+
+He could not meet her dear eyes. "Worry nothing!" he cried. "I only have
+one idea in my mind, and that is to get some sleep!" He bustled to get
+his blankets.
+
+They awoke him for the evening meal. After eating, he inspected his
+camp, sent Clare to bed, moved Imbrie closer, instructed Mary to keep
+watch that he did not succeed in freeing himself, and went back to sleep
+again. Mary was to call him at dawn, and they would take the trail at
+sunrise.
+
+In the middle of the night he was brought leaping to his feet by a cry
+out of the dark: a cry that was neither from wolf, coyote, nor
+screech-owl. Wakened from a deep sleep, his consciousness was aware only
+of something dreadful. Outside the tent Mary ran to him: her teeth were
+chattering with terror: she could not speak. Clare crept from her tent.
+Both women instinctively drew close to their protector.
+
+"What was it?" Clare asked, tremblingly.
+
+A shriek answered her; a dreadful urgent cry of agony that made the
+whole night shudder. It came from a little way down the trail, from the
+edge of the woods perhaps, not more than a quarter of a mile away.
+
+"A human voice!" gasped Clare.
+
+"A woman's!" muttered Stonor grimly.
+
+Again it shattered the stillness, this time more dreadful, for they
+heard words in their own tongue. "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!" Then a
+horrible pause, and with added urgency: "Help! Help!"
+
+"By God! English words!" cried Stonor, astounded.
+
+"Go to her! Go to her!" cried Clare, urging him with her hands.
+
+On the other hand, Mary, falling to her knees, clung to him, fairly
+gibbering in the extremity of her terror.
+
+Stonor was suspicious, yet every instinct of manliness drew him towards
+these cries. Under that pull it was impossible to think clearly. He
+shook Mary off, and started to run. He took three steps and pulled
+himself up short.
+
+"Look at Imbrie," he muttered. "Strange he hasn't wakened."
+
+It was true the prisoner still lay motionless, entirely covered with his
+blanket.
+
+"It's a trick!" said Stonor. "There could be no English woman near here.
+It's a trick to draw me out of camp!"
+
+"But none of the Kakisas could speak English," said Clare.
+
+"I don't know," muttered Stonor, in an agony of indecision. "My first
+duty is here. Look at Mary. She thinks it's a trick."
+
+Mary was lying on the ground, muttering a Kakisa word over and over.
+
+"What is it?" Stonor harshly demanded.
+
+"Spirits!" she gasped.
+
+Stonor turned away, flinging his arms up. "Good God! Ghosts again!" he
+cried, in exasperation.
+
+The dreadful cries were raised again. "Help! Help! He's killing me!"
+
+"I can't stand it!" cried Clare. "I must go myself!"
+
+"Stay where you are!" commanded Stonor. "It is too strange a thing to
+happen so close to our camp if it was not staged for our benefit!"
+
+Just the same, it was not easy for him to hold himself. When the cries
+were raised again a deep groan was forced from him:
+
+"If I only had another man!"
+
+"Go! Mary and I will be all right!" said Clare.
+
+"Don' go! Don' go!" wailed Mary from the ground.
+
+Stonor shouted into the darkness. "Come this way! Help is here!"
+
+The cries were redoubled.
+
+Imbrie suddenly awoke, and rolled clear of his blanket. "What's that?"
+he cried, with an admirable assumption of surprise. "A woman's voice! A
+white woman! Why don't you go to her?"
+
+It was a little too well done; Stonor felt partly reassured.
+
+Imbrie appeared to be struggling desperately in his bonds. "For God's
+sake, man!" he cried. "If you won't go, cut me loose! I can't stand it!"
+
+"I am sure now," said Stonor, in a voice of relief. "This was what he
+fixed up with Myengeen this morning. I ought to have been prepared for
+it. Mary, help me make up the fire. A blaze will help chase the
+horrors."
+
+"Oh, you coward!" taunted Imbrie. "If I had my hands free! This is the
+famous nerve of the police!"
+
+Stonor could afford to laugh at this. His courage was tried.
+
+The voice came with a fresh note of despair. "He's taking me away! He's
+taking me away! Oh, come! come!" Sure enough the sounds began to recede.
+
+But the spell was broken now. They were only conscious of relief at the
+prospect of an end to the grim farce.
+
+"Damn clever work here," said Stonor. "She says the very things that
+ought to pull the hardest."
+
+"Where could they have got the English words?" said Clare.
+
+"Search me! It's another mystery to add to what's facing us."
+
+Meanwhile the flames were beginning to lick the twigs that Mary placed
+with trembling hands.
+
+"If we make a big fire won't it reveal us to them?" said Clare
+nervously.
+
+"They won't shoot," said Stonor contemptuously. "Stage business is more
+their line; conjure-tricks."
+
+Imbrie, seeing that the game was up, had given over trying to taunt
+Stonor, and lay watching them with an unabashed grin. He seemed rather
+proud of his scheme, though it had failed.
+
+"Can I smoke?" he said.
+
+"Mary, fill his pipe, and stick it in his mouth," said Stonor.
+
+They heaped up a big fire, and at Stonor's initiative, sat around it
+clearly revealed in the glare. He knew his Indians. At first Clare
+trembled, thinking of the possible hostile eyes gazing at them from
+beyond the radius of light, but Stonor's coolness was infectious. He
+joked and laughed, and, toasting slices of bacon, handed them round.
+
+"We can eat all we want to-night," he said. "Tole will be along with a
+fresh supply to-morrow."
+
+Imbrie lay about fifteen paces from the fire, near enough to make
+himself unpleasant, if not to hear what was said. "Mighty brave man by
+the fire," he sneered.
+
+Stonor answered mildly. "One more remark like that, my friend, and I'll
+have to retire you again from good society."
+
+Imbrie held his tongue thereafter.
+
+Clare, wishing to show Stonor that she too could set an example of
+coolness, said: "Let's sing something."
+
+But Stonor shook his head. "That would look as if we were trying to keep
+our courage up," he said, smiling, "and of course it is up. But let Mary
+tell us a story to pass the time."
+
+Mary, having reflected that it was her own people and not ghostly
+visitants that had made the hideous interruption in the night, had
+regained her outward stolidity. She was not in the humour for telling
+stories, though.
+
+"My mout' too dry," she said.
+
+"Go ahead," coaxed Stonor. "You know your own folks better than I do.
+You know that if we sit here by the fire, eating, talking, and laughing
+like a pleasant company, it will put respect into their hearts. They'll
+have no appetite for further devilry."
+
+"Can't tell stories," she said. "Too late, too dark, too scare. Words
+won't come."
+
+"Just tell us why the rabbits have a black spot on their backs. That's a
+short one."
+
+After a little more urging Mary began in her stolid way:
+
+"One tam Old Man him travel in the bush. Hear ver' queer singin'. Never
+hear not'ing like that before. Look all round see where it come. Wah! he
+see cottontail rabbits singing and making medicine. They mak' fire. Got
+plenty hot ashes. They lie down in those ashes and sing, and another
+rabbit cover them up with ashes. They not stay there ver' long for cause
+those ashes moch hot.
+
+"Old Man say: 'Little brothers, that is wonderful how you lie down in
+those hot ashes without burning. Show me how to do it.'
+
+"Rabbits say: 'Come on, Old Man. We show you how. You got sing our song,
+only stay in ashes little while.' So Old Man begin to sing, and he lie
+down, and they cover him with ashes. Him not burn at all.
+
+"He say: 'That is ver' nice. You sure got ver' strong medicine. Now I
+want do it myself. You lie down, and I cover you up.'
+
+"So rabbits all lie down in ashes, and Old Man cover them up. Then he
+put the whole fire over them. Only one old rabbit get out. Old Man catch
+her and go put her back, but she say: 'Pity me, my children soon be
+born.'
+
+"Old Man say: 'All right, I let you go, so there is plenty more rabbits
+bam-bye. But I will cook these nicely and have a feast.' And he put more
+wood on the fire. When those rabbits cooked nice, he cut red willow bush
+and lay them on to cool. Grease soak into those branches; that is why
+when you hold red willow to the fire you see grease on the bark. You can
+see too, since that time, how rabbits got burnt place on their back.
+That is where the one that got away was singed.
+
+"Old Man sit down waitin' for rabbits to cool a little. His mouth is wet
+for to taste them. Coyote come along limpin' ver' bad. Say: 'Pity me,
+Old Man, you got plenty cooked rabbits, give me one.'
+
+"Old Man say: 'Go along! You too lazy catch your dinner, I not help
+you!'
+
+"Coyote say: 'My leg broke. I can't catch not'ing. I starving. Just give
+me half a rabbit.'
+
+"Old Man say: 'I don't care if you die. I work hard to cook all these
+rabbits. I will not give away. But I tell you what we do. We run a race
+to that big hill way off there. If you beat me I give you a rabbit.'
+
+"Coyote say: 'All right.' So they start run. Old Man run ver' fast.
+Coyote limp along close behind. Then coyote turn round and run back very
+fast. Him not lame at all. Tak' Old Man long tam to get back. Jus'
+before he get there coyote swallow las' rabbit, and trot away over the
+prairie with his tail up.
+
+"That is the end."
+
+Stonor laughed. "That's the kind of story I like. No cut and dried
+moral!"
+
+Mary never could be got to see anything funny in the stories she told.
+Just what her attitude was towards them the whites could not guess.
+
+"Give us another about Old Man," Stonor went on. "A longer one. Tell how
+Old Man made medicine. A crackerjack!"
+
+Clare looked at him wonderingly. If he were aware of the weirdness of
+their situation no sign betrayed it. The crackling flames mounted
+straight in the air, the smoke made a pillar reaching into the darkness.
+Fifteen paces from Stonor lay his prisoner, staring unwinkingly at him
+with eyes that glittered with hatred; and from all around them in the
+darkness perhaps scores of their enemies were watching.
+
+Mary stolidly began again:
+
+"It was long tam ago before the white man come. The people not have
+horses then. Kakisas hunt on the great prairie that touch the sky all
+around. Many buffalo had been killed. The camp was full of meat. Great
+sheets hung in the lodges and on the racks outside to smoke. Now the
+meat was all cut up and the women were working on the hides. Cure some
+for robes. Scrape hair from some for leather----"
+
+The story got no further. From across the little stream they heard a
+muffled thunder of hoofs in the grass.
+
+Stonor sprang up. "My horses!" he cried. "Stampeded, by God! The
+cowardly devils!"
+
+Imbrie laughed.
+
+Stonor snatched up his gun. "Back from the fire!" he cried to the women.
+"I'm going to shoot!"
+
+He splashed across the ford, and, climbing the bank, dropped on his
+knee in the grass. The horses swerved, and galloped off at a tangent.
+They were barely visible to eyes that had just left the fire. Stonor
+counted seven animals, and he had but six with Imbrie's. On the seventh
+there was the suggestion of a crouching figure. Stonor fired at the
+horse.
+
+The animal collapsed with a thud. Stonor ran to where he lay twitching
+in the grass. It was a strange horse to him. The rider had escaped. But
+he could not have got far. The temptation to follow was strong, but
+Stonor, remembering his prisoner and the women who depended on him,
+refused to be drawn. He returned to where Clare and Mary awaited him at
+a little distance from the fire. Meanwhile the horses galloped away out
+of hearing into the bush beyond the little meadow. Imbrie was still
+secure in his bonds. Stonor kept a close watch on him.
+
+They had not long to wait before dawn began to weave colour in the sky.
+Light revealed nothing living but themselves in the little valley, or
+around its rim. The horse Stonor had shot still lay where he had
+dropped. Stonor returned to him, taking Mary. The animal was dead, with
+a bullet behind its shoulder. It was a blue roan, an ugly brute with a
+chewed ear. It had borne a saddle, but its owner had succeeded in
+retrieving that under cover of darkness. The man's tracks were visible,
+leading off towards the side trail.
+
+"Mary, whose horse is that?" Stonor asked.
+
+She shrugged and spread out her hands. As she had been living at Fort
+Enterprise for years, and saw her own people but seldom, he had no
+choice but to believe that she did not know. They returned to Clare.
+
+Stonor said: "I shall have to leave you for awhile. There's no help for
+it. I'm expecting Tole Grampierre this morning, but I can't tell for
+sure how fast he will travel, and in the meantime the horses may be
+getting further away every minute. If you are afraid to stay, I suppose
+you can come with me--though I may have to tramp for miles."
+
+Clare kept her chin up. "I'll stay here. If you have to go far I'd only
+be a drag on you. I shan't be afraid."
+
+The harassed policeman gave her a grateful glance. "I'll leave you my
+revolver. There's no use arming Mary, because I couldn't ask her to fire
+on her own people. I do not think there is the slightest danger of your
+being attacked. If the Indians, seeing me go, come around, pay no
+attention to them. Show no fear and you are safe. If they want Imbrie
+let them take him. I'll get him later. It only means a little delay. He
+cannot escape me up here."
+
+"You must eat before you start," said Clare anxiously.
+
+"I'll take cold food. Can't wait for hot bread."
+
+As Stonor started off Imbrie cried mockingly: "So long, Redbreast!"
+Stonor doubted very much if he would find him on his return. But there
+was no help for it. One has to make the best of a bad situation.
+
+After traversing the little meadow the stampeded horses had taken to the
+trail in the direction of Fort Enterprise. Stonor took heart, hoping
+that Tole might meet them and drive them back. But, reliable as Tole
+was, of course he could not count on him to the hour; nor had he any
+assurance that the horses would stay in the trail. He kept on.
+
+The horses' tracks made clear reading. For several miles Stonor followed
+through the bush at a dog-trot. Then he came to another little open
+glade and saw that they had stopped to feed. He gained on them here. A
+short distance further he suddenly came upon his bay in the trail, the
+horse that had carried him to Swan Lake and back. As he had expected,
+she was hopelessly foundered, a pitiable sight. He regretfully put a
+bullet through her brain.
+
+Near here the remaining horses had swerved from the trail and turned
+northward, looking for water perhaps. Stonor pinned a note to a tree,
+briefly telling Tole what had happened, and bidding him hasten forward
+with all speed.
+
+Stonor followed the hoof-prints then through the trackless bush,
+painfully slow going over the stones and the fallen trunks, with many a
+pitfall concealed under the smooth moss. After an hour of this he
+finally came upon them all five standing dejectedly about in a narrow
+opening, as if ashamed of their escapade and perfectly willing to be
+caught.
+
+Mounting Miles Aroon, he drove the others before him. To avoid the risk
+of breaking their legs he had to let them make their own slow pace over
+the down timber, and it was a sore trial to his patience. He had already
+been gone two hours. When finally he struck the trail again he saw that
+his note to Tole was still where he had left it. He let it stay, on the
+chance of its bringing him on a little quicker. He put his horses to the
+trail at a smart pace. They all clattered through the bush, making
+dizzying turns around the tree-trunks.
+
+As he approached the little meadow by the Meander his heart rose slowly
+in his throat. He had been more anxious for their safety than he would
+let himself believe. As he came to the edge of the trees his eyes were
+ready to leap to the spot where he had left his charges. A shock awaited
+them. Of the three little tents there was but one remaining, and no sign
+of life around it. He furiously urged his horse to the place.
+
+Mary and Clare were gone with Imbrie. The camp site was trampled by
+scores of hoofs. The Indians had taken nothing, however, but the two
+little tents and the personal belongings of the women--an odd
+scrupulousness in the face of the greater offence. All the tracks made
+off across the meadow towards the side trail back to the Swan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+PURSUIT
+
+
+Stonor sat down on a grub-box, and, gripping his bursting head between
+his hands, tried to think. His throbbing blood urged him to gallop
+instantly in pursuit. They could not have more than two hours' start of
+him, and Miles Aroon was better than anything they had in the way of
+horse-flesh, fresh into the bargain. But a deeper instinct was telling
+him that a little slow thought in the beginning brings quicker results
+at the end.
+
+Even with only two hours' start they might make the village before he
+overtook them, and Imbrie might get away on the lake. A stern chase with
+all the hazards of travel in the wilderness might continue for days;
+Stonor was running short of grub; he must provide for their coming back;
+above all it was necessary that he get word out of what had happened;
+Clare's safety must not depend alone on the one mortal life he had to
+give her. Hard as it was to bring himself to it, he determined to get in
+touch with Tole before starting after Imbrie and the Kakisas.
+
+To that end he mounted one of his poorer horses and galloped headlong
+back through the bush. After ten miles or so, in a little open meadow he
+came upon the handsome breed boy riding along without a care in the
+world, hand on hip and "Stetson" cocked askew, singing lustily of
+_Gentille Alouette_. Never in his life had Stonor been so glad to see
+anybody. His set, white face worked painfully; for a moment he could
+not speak, but only grip the boy's shoulder. Tole was scared half out of
+his wits to see his revered idol so much affected.
+
+All the way along Stonor had been thinking what he would do. It would
+not be sufficient to send a message by Tole; he must write to John
+Gaviller and to Lambert at the Crossing; one letter would do for both;
+the phrases were all ready to his pencil. Briefly explaining the
+situation to Tole, he sat down to his note-book. Two pages held it all;
+Stonor would have been surprised had he been told that it was a model of
+conciseness.
+
+    "JOHN GAVILLER and Sergeant LAMBERT, R.N.W.M.P.
+
+    "While returning with my prisoner Ernest Imbrie, suspected of
+    murder, at a point on the Horse Track six miles from Swan
+    River, a band of Indians from Swan Lake drove off my horses,
+    and while I was away looking for them, rescued my prisoner, and
+    also carried off the two women in my party. Am returning to
+    Swan Lake now with four horses. Suppose that Imbrie reaching
+    there will take to the lake and the upper Swan, as that
+    provides his only means of getting out of the country this way.
+    Suggest that Mr. Gaviller get this through to Lambert
+    regardless of expense. Suggest that Lambert as soon as he gets
+    it might ride overland from the Crossing to the nearest point
+    on the Swan. If he takes one of his folding boats, and takes a
+    man to ride the horses back, he could come down the Swan. I
+    will be coming up, and we ought to pinch Imbrie between the two
+    of us. The situation is a serious one, as Imbrie has the whole
+    tribe of Kakisas under his thumb. He will stop at nothing now;
+    may be insane. The position of the women is a frightful one.
+
+                         "MARTIN STONOR."
+
+Stonor took Tole's pack-horse with its load of grub, and the breed tied
+his bed and rations for three days behind his saddle. Stonor gripped his
+hand.
+
+"So long, kid! Ride like hell. It's the most you can do for me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Eight hours later, Stonor, haggard with anxiety and fatigue, and driving
+his spent horses before him, rode among the tepees of the village beside
+Swan Lake. That single day had aged him ten years. His second coming was
+received with a significant lack of surprise. The Indians were
+ostentatiously engaged at their customary occupations: mending boats and
+other gear, cleaning guns, etc. Stonor doubted if such a picture of
+universal industry had ever been offered there. Dismounting, he called
+peremptorily for Myengeen.
+
+The head man came to him with a certain air of boldness, that slowly
+withered, however, under the fire that leaped up in the white man's
+weary blue eyes. Under his savage inscrutability the signs of fidgets
+became perceptible. Perhaps he had not expected the trooper to brave him
+single-handed, but had hoped for more time to obliterate tracks, and let
+matters quiet down. Many a dark breast within hearing quailed at the
+sound of the policeman's ringing voice, though his words were not
+understood. The one determined man struck more terror than a troop.
+
+"Myengeen, you and your people have defied the law! Swift and terrible
+punishment awaits you. Don't think you can escape it. You have carried
+off a white woman. Such a thing was never known. If a single hair of her
+head is harmed, God help you! Where is she?"
+
+Myengeen's reply was a pantomime of general denial.
+
+Stonor marched him back of the tepees where the Kakisas' horses were
+feeding on the flat. He silently pointed to their hanging heads and
+sweaty flanks. Many of the beasts were still too weary to feed: one or
+two were lying down done for. Stonor pointed out certain peculiarities
+in their feet, and indicated that he had been following those tracks.
+This mute testimony impressed Myengeen more than words; his eyes bolted;
+he took refuge in making believe not to understand.
+
+Stonor's inability to command them in their own tongue made him feel
+maddeningly impotent.
+
+"Where is the woman who speaks English?" he cried, pointing to his own
+tongue.
+
+Myengeen merely shrugged.
+
+Stonor then ordered all the people into their tepees, and such is the
+power of a single resolute voice that they meekly obeyed. Proceeding
+from tepee to tepee he called out likely-looking individuals to be
+questioned out of sight of the others. For a long time it was without
+result; men and women alike, having taken their cue from Myengeen,
+feigned not to understand. Such children as he tried to question were
+scared almost into insensibility. Stonor began to feel as if he were
+butting his head against a stone wall.
+
+At last from a maiden he received a hint that was sufficient. She was a
+comely girl with a limpid brown eye. Either she had a soul above the
+Kakisas or else the bright-haired trooper touched her fancy. At any
+rate, when he looked in the tepee, where she sat demurely beyond her
+male relatives, she gave him a shy glance that did not lack humanity.
+Calling her outside, he put the invariable question to her, accompanied
+with appropriate signs: where was the white woman?
+
+She merely glanced towards the mouth of the creek where the canoes lay,
+then looked up the lake. It was sufficient. Stonor gave her a grateful
+glance and let her go. He never knew her name. That the Kakisas might
+not suspect her of having betrayed them, he continued his questioning
+for awhile. Last of all he re-interrogated Myengeen. He did not care if
+suspicion fell on him.
+
+Stonor coolly picked out the best-looking canoe in the creek, and loaded
+aboard what he required of his outfit. Myengeen and his men sullenly
+looked on. The trooper, seeing that a fair breeze was blowing up the
+lake, cut two poplar poles, and with a blanket quickly rigged mast and
+sail. When he was ready to start he delivered the rest of his outfit to
+Myengeen, and left his horses in his care.
+
+"This is government property," he said sternly. "If anything is lost
+full payment will be collected."
+
+He sailed down the creek followed by the wondering exclamations of the
+Kakisas. Sailing was an unknown art to them, and in their amazement at
+the sight, like the children they were, they completely forgot the
+grimness of the situation. Stonor thought: "How can you make such a
+scatter-brained lot realize what they're doing!"
+
+Stonor had supposed that Imbrie would take to the lake. On arriving at
+the brow of the last ridge his first thought had been to search its
+expanse, but he had seen nothing. Since then various indications
+suggested that they had between four and five hours' start of him. He
+had been delayed on the trail by his pack-horses. The speed he was
+making under sail was not much better than he could have paddled, but it
+enabled him to take things easy for a while.
+
+Swan Lake is about thirty miles long. Fully ten miles of it was visible
+from the start. It is shaped roughly like three uneven links of a chain,
+and in width it varies from half a mile to perhaps five miles. It seems
+vaster than it is on account of its low shores which stretch back, flat
+and reedy, for miles. Here dwelt the great flocks of wild geese or
+"wavies" that gave both lake and river their names.
+
+As he got out into the lake the wind gradually strengthened behind him,
+and his canoe was blown hither and yon like an inflated skin on the
+water. She had no keel, she took no grip of the water, and much of the
+goodly aid of the wind was vainly measured against the strength of
+Stonor's arms as he laboured to keep her before it. When he did get the
+wind full in his top-heavy sail it blew him almost bodily under. Stonor
+welcomed the struggle. He was now making much better time than he could
+have hoped for by his paddle. He grimly carried on.
+
+In order to accommodate the two women and their necessary outfit, Stonor
+supposed that Imbrie must have taken one of the dug-outs. He did not
+believe that any of the Kakisas had accompanied the fugitive. The
+prospect of a long journey would appal them. And Stonor was pretty sure
+that Mary was not over-working herself at the paddle, so that it was not
+too much to hope that he was catching up on them at this rate. Thinking
+of their outfit, Stonor wondered how Imbrie would feed Clare; the
+ordinary fare of the Kakisas would be a cruel hardship on her. Such are
+the things one worries about in the face of much more dreadful dangers.
+
+It had been nearly six o'clock before Stonor left Myengeen's village,
+and the sun went down while he was still far from the head of the lake.
+He surveyed the flat shores somewhat anxiously. Nowhere, as far as he
+could see, was there any promising landing-place. In the end he decided
+to sail on through the night. As darkness gathered he took his bearings
+from the stars. With the going-down of the sun the wind moderated, but
+it still held fair and strong enough to give him good steerage-way.
+After an hour or two the shores began to close around him. He could not
+find the outlet of the river in the dark, so he drove into the reeds,
+and, taking down his sail, supped on cold bread and lake-water and lay
+down in his canoe.
+
+In the morning he found the river without difficulty. It was a sluggish
+stream here, winding interminably between low cut banks, edged with
+dangling grass-roots on the one side and mud-flats on the other. From
+the canoe he could see nothing above the banks. Landing to take a
+survey, Stonor beheld a vast treeless bottom, covered with rank grass,
+and stretching to low piny ridges several miles back on either hand. No
+tell-tale thread of smoke on the still air betrayed the camp of the man
+he was seeking.
+
+He resumed his way. Of his whole journey this part was the most
+difficult trial to his patience. There was just current enough to mock
+at his efforts with the paddle. He seemed scarcely to crawl. It was
+maddening after his brisk progress up the lake. Moreover, each bend was
+so much like the last that he had no sense of getting on, and the
+invariable banks hemmed in his sight. He felt like a man condemned to a
+treadmill.
+
+He had been about two hours on the river when he saw a little object
+floating towards him on the current that instantly caught his eye
+because it had the look of something fashioned. He paddled to it with a
+beating heart. It proved to be a tiny raft contrived out of several
+lengths of stout stick, tied together with strips of rag. On the little
+platform, out of reach of the water, was tied with another strip a roll
+of the white outer bark of the birch. Stonor untied it and spread it out
+on his knee with a trembling hand. It was a letter printed in crooked
+characters with a point charred in the fire.
+
+[Illustration:
+
+    WE WELL. HIM NOT HURT CLARE ENY. HIM SCAR OF CRAZEE CLARE SLEEP
+    BY ME. HIM GOIN CROST /\/\/\/\/\
+
+                         FROM MARY]
+
+A warm stream forced its way into the trooper's frozen breast, and the
+terrible strained look in his eyes relaxed. For a moment he covered his
+eyes with his arm, though there was none to see. His most dreadful and
+unacknowledged fear was for the moment relieved. Gratitude filled him.
+
+"Good old Mary!" he thought. "She went to all that trouble just on the
+chance of easing my mind. By God! if we come through this all right I'll
+do something for her!"
+
+"Him scar of crazee," puzzled him for a while, until it occurred to him
+that Mary wished to convey that Imbrie let Clare alone because he
+believed that her loss of memory was akin to insanity. This was where
+the red strain in him told. All Indians have a superstitious awe of the
+insane. The sign at the end of the letter was for mountains, of course.
+The word, no doubt, was beyond Mary's spelling. What care and
+circumspection must have gone to the writing and the launching of the
+note! It must all have been done while Imbrie slept.
+
+Stonor applied himself to his paddle again with a better heart. After
+two hours more he came to their camping-place of the night before. It
+was a spot designed by Nature for a camp, with a little beach of clean
+sand below, and a grove of willow and birch above. Stonor landed to see
+what tell-tale signs they had left behind them.
+
+He saw that they were in a dug-out: it had left its furrow in the sand
+where it was pulled up. He saw the print of Clare's little common-sense
+boot in the sand, and the sight almost unmanned him; Mary's track was
+there too, that he knew well, and Imbrie's; and to his astonishment
+there was a fourth track unknown to him. It was that of a small man or a
+large woman. Could Imbrie have persuaded one of the Kakisas to accompany
+him? This was all he saw. He judged from the signs that they had about
+five hours' start of him.
+
+From this point the character of the country began to change. The
+river-banks became higher and wooded; there were outcroppings of rock
+and small rapids. Stonor saw from the tracks alongshore that where the
+current was swift they had towed the dug-out up-stream, but he had to
+stick to his paddle. Though he put forth his best efforts all day he
+scarcely gained on them, for darkness came upon him soon after he had
+passed the place where they spelled in mid-afternoon.
+
+On the next day in mid-morning he was brought to stand by a fork in the
+river. There was nothing to tell him which branch to choose, for the
+current was easy here and the trackers had re-embarked. Both branches
+were of about equal size: one came from the south-east, one from due
+east; either might reach to the mountains if it was long enough. Stonor
+had pondered on the map of that country, but on it the Swan River was
+only indicated as yet by a dotted line. All that was known of the stream
+by report was that it rose in the Rocky Mountains somewhere to the north
+of Fort Cheever, and, flowing in a north-westerly direction, roughly
+parallel with the Spirit, finally emptied into Great Buffalo Lake.
+Stonor remembered no forks on the map.
+
+He was about to choose at random, when he was struck by a difference in
+the colour of the water of the two branches. The right-hand fork was a
+clear brown, the other greenish with a milky tinge. Now brown water, as
+everybody knows, comes from swamps or muskegs, while green water is the
+product of melting snow and ice. Stonor took the left-hand branch.
+
+Shortly afterwards he was rewarded by a sight of the spot where they had
+made their first spell of the day. Landing, he found the ashes of their
+fire still warm; they could not have been gone more than an hour. This
+was an unexpected gain; some accident of travel must have delayed them.
+Embarking, he bent to his paddle with a renewed hope. Surely by going
+without a meal himself he ought to come on them before they finished
+their second spell.
+
+But the river was only half of its former volume now, and the rapids
+were more brawling, and more tedious to ascend. However, he consoled
+himself with the thought that if they held him back they would delay the
+dug-out no less. The river was very lovely on these upper reaches; in
+his anxiety to get on he scarcely marked that at the moment, but
+afterwards he remembered its park-like shores, its forget-me-nots and
+raspberry-blossoms, and the dappled sunlight falling through the
+aspen-foliage. It was no different from the rivers of his boyhood in a
+sheltered land, with swimming-holes at the foot of the little rapids:
+only the fenced fields and the quiet cattle were lacking above the
+banks, and church-spires in the distant vistas.
+
+Within an hour Stonor himself became the victim of one of the ordinary
+hazards of river-travel. In a rapid one of his paddles broke in half;
+the current carried him broadside on a rock, and a great piece of bark
+was torn from the side of his frail craft. Landing, he surveyed the
+damage, grinding his teeth with angry disappointment. It meant the loss
+of all he had so hardly gained on the dug-out.
+
+To find a suitable piece of bark, and spruce-gum to cement it with,
+required a considerable search in the bush. It then had to be sewed on
+with needle and thread, the edges gummed, and the gum given time to dry
+partly, in the heat of the fire. The afternoon was well advanced before
+he got afloat again, and darkness compelled him to camp in the spot
+where they had made their second, that is to say, the mid-afternoon,
+spell.
+
+The next two days, his third and fourth in the river, were without
+especial incident. The river maintained its sylvan character, though the
+bordering hills or bench were gradually growing higher and bolder.
+Stonor, by putting every ounce that was in him into his paddle, slowly
+gained again on the dug-out. He knew now that Imbrie, irrespective of
+Mary, had a second paddle to help him. It gave the dug-out an advantage,
+especially in swift water, that more than neutralized its extra weight.
+
+By evening of the fourth day all signs indicated that he was drawing
+close to his quarry again. He kept on until forced to stop by complete
+darkness. On this night the sky was heavily overcast, and it was as dark
+as a winter's night. He camped where he happened to be; it was a poor
+spot, no more than a stony slope among willows. He had done all his
+necessary cooking during the day, so there was no need to wait for his
+supper.
+
+The mosquitoes were troublesome, and he put up his tent, hastily
+slinging it between two trees, and weighing down the sides and the back
+with a few stones. To his tent he afterwards ascribed the preservation
+of his life. It was the simplest form of tent, known as a "lean-to," or,
+as one might say, merely half a tent sliced along the ridge-pole, with a
+roof sloping to the ground at the back, and the entire front open to the
+fire except for a mosquito-bar.
+
+His bed was hard, but he was too weary to care. He lay down in his
+blanket, but not to achieve forgetfulness immediately; strong
+discipline was still required to calm his hot impatience. How could he
+sleep, not knowing perhaps but that one more mile might bring him to his
+goal? Indeed, Imbrie's camp might be around the next bend. But he could
+not risk his frail canoe in the shallow river after dark.
+
+Stonor was on the borderland of sleep when he was suddenly roused to
+complete wakefulness by a little sound from behind his tent. A woodsman
+soon learns to know all the normal sounds of night, and this was
+something different, an infinitely stealthy sound, as of a body dragging
+itself an inch at a time, with long waits between. It seemed to be
+slowly making its way around his tent towards the open front.
+
+Now Stonor knew that there was no animal in his country that stalks
+human prey, and he instantly thought of his two-legged enemy. Quick and
+noiselessly as a cat he slipped out of his blankets, and rolling his
+dunnage-bag in his place drew the blanket over it. In the faint light
+reflected from the embers outside it might be supposed that he still lay
+there. He then cautiously moved the stones aside, and slipped out under
+the wall of his tent on the side opposite to that whence the creeping
+sounds now came.
+
+On hands and knees he crawled softly around the back of his tent,
+determined to stalk the stalker. He felt each inch of the way in
+advance, to make sure there was nothing that would break or turn under
+his weight. He could hear no sounds from the other side now. Rounding
+the back of his tent, at the corner he lay flat and stuck his head
+around. At first he could see nothing. The tall trees on the further
+shore cut off all but the faintest gleam of light from the river. A
+little forward and to the left of his tent there was a thick clump of
+willow, making a black shadow at its foot that might have concealed
+anything. Stonor watched, breathing with open mouth to avoid betraying
+himself. Little by little he made out a shadowy form at the foot of the
+willows, a shape merely a degree blacker than its background. He could
+be sure of nothing.
+
+Then his heart seemed to miss a beat, for against the wan surface of the
+river he saw an arm raised and a gun point--presumably at the dummy he
+had left under the tent. Oddly enough his shock of horror was not
+primarily that one should seek to kill him, Stonor; he was first of all
+appalled at the outrage offered to the coat he wore.
+
+The gun spoke and flame leaped from the barrel. Stonor, gathering
+himself up, sprang forward on the assassin. At the first touch he
+recognized with a great shock of surprise that it was a woman he had to
+deal with. Her shoulders were round and soft under his hands; the grunt
+she uttered as he bore her back was feminine. He wrenched the gun from
+her hands and cast it to one side.
+
+When she caught her breath she fought like a mad cat, with every lithe
+muscle of her body and with teeth and claws too. She was strong; strong
+and quick as a steel spring. More than once she escaped him. Once she
+got half-way up the bank; but here he bore her down on her face and
+locked her arms behind her in a grip she was powerless to break.
+
+Jerking her to her feet--one is not too gentle even with a woman who has
+just tried to murder one--he forced her before him back to his tent.
+Here, holding her with one arm while she swayed and wrenched in her
+efforts to free herself, he contrived to draw his knife, and to cut off
+one of the stay-ropes of his tent. With this he bound her wrists
+together behind her back, and passed the end round a stout trunk of
+willow. The instant he stood back she flung herself forward on the rope,
+but the jerk on her arms must have nearly dislocated them. It brought a
+shriek of pain from her. She came to a standstill, sobbing for breath.
+
+Stonor collected dead twigs, and blew on the embers. In a minute or two
+he had a bright blaze, and turned, full of curiosity to see what he had
+got. He saw a breed woman of forty years or more, still, for a wonder,
+uncommonly handsome and well-formed. The pure hatred that distorted her
+features could not conceal her good looks. She had the fine straight
+features of her white forebears, and her dusky cheeks flamed with
+colour. She bore herself with a proud, savage grace.
+
+More than the woman herself, her attire excited Stonor's wonder. It was
+a white woman's get-up. Her dress, though of plain black cotton, was cut
+with a certain regard to the prevailing style. She wore corsets--strange
+phenomenon! Stonor had already discovered it before he got a look at
+her. Her hair had been done on top of her head in a white woman's
+fashion, though it was pretty well down now. Strangest of all, she wore
+gold jewellery; rings on her fingers and drops in her ears; a showy gold
+locket hanging from a chain around her neck. On the whole a surprising
+apparition to find on the banks of the unexplored river.
+
+Stonor, studying her, reflected that this was no doubt the woman he had
+seen with Imbrie at Carcajou Point two months before. The Indians had
+referred to her derisively as his "old woman." But it was strange he had
+heard nothing of her from the Kakisas. She must have been concealed in
+the very tepee from which Imbrie had issued on the occasion of Stonor's
+first visit to the village at Swan Lake. The Indians down the river had
+never mentioned her. He was sure she could not have lived with Imbrie
+down there. Where, then, had he picked her up? Where had she been while
+Imbrie was down there? How had she got into the country anyway? The more
+he thought of it the more puzzling it was. Certainly she had come from
+far; Stonor was well assured he would have heard of so striking a
+personage as this anywhere within his own bailiwick.
+
+Another thought suddenly occurred to him. This of course would be the
+woman who had tried to decoy him out of his camp with her cries for help
+in English. At least she explained that bit of the all-enveloping
+mystery.
+
+"Well, here's a pretty how-de-do!" said Stonor with grim humour. "Who
+are you?"
+
+She merely favoured him with a glance of inexpressible scorn.
+
+"I know you talk English," he said, "good English too. So there's no use
+trying to bluff me that you don't understand. What is your name, to
+begin with?"
+
+Still no answer but the curling lip.
+
+"What's the idea of shooting at a policeman? Is it worth hanging for?"
+
+She gave no sign.
+
+He saw that it only gratified her to balk his curiosity, so he turned
+away with a shrug. "If you won't talk, that's your affair."
+
+He had thrown only light stuff on the fire, and he let it burn itself
+out, having no mind to make of himself a shining mark for a bullet from
+another quarter. He lit his pipe and sat debating what to do--or rather
+struggling with his desire to set off instantly in search of Imbrie's
+camp. Knowing it must be near, it was hard to be still. Yet better sense
+told him he would be at a fatal disadvantage in the dark, particularly
+as Imbrie must now be on the alert. There was no help for it. He must
+wait for daylight.
+
+He knew that above all he required sleep to fit him for his work next
+day, and he determined to impose sleep on himself if will-power could do
+it. As he rose to return to his tent a sullen voice from the direction
+of the willow-bushes spoke up in English as good as his own:
+
+"The mosquitoes are biting me."
+
+"Ha!" said Stonor, with a grim laugh. "You've found your tongue, eh?
+Mosquitoes! That's not a patch on what you intended for me, my girl! But
+if you want to be friends, all right. First give an account of
+yourself."
+
+She relapsed into silence.
+
+"I say, tell me who you are and where you came from."
+
+She said, with exactly the manner of a wilful child: "You can't make me
+talk."
+
+"Oh, all right! But I can let the mosquitoes bite you."
+
+Nevertheless he untied her from the willows and let her crawl under his
+mosquito-bar. Here he tied ankles as well as wrists, beyond any
+possibility of escape. It was not pure philanthropy on his part, for he
+reflected that when she failed to return, Imbrie might come in search of
+her, and take a shot inside his tent just on a chance. For himself he
+took his blanket under the darkest shadow of the willows and covered
+himself entirely with it excepting a hole to breathe through.
+
+He did succeed in sleeping, and when he awoke the sky was clear and the
+stars paling. Before crawling out of his hiding-place he took a careful
+survey from between the branches. Nothing stirred outside. Under his
+tent his prisoner was sleeping as calmly as a child. Apparently a
+frustrated murder more or less was nothing to disturb her peace of mind.
+Stonor thought grimly--for perhaps the hundredth time in dealing with
+the red race: "What a rum lot they are!" He ate some bread that he had
+left, and began to pack up.
+
+The woman awoke as he took down the tent over her head, and watched his
+preparations in a sullen silence.
+
+"Haven't you got a tongue this morning?" asked Stonor.
+
+She merely glowered at him.
+
+However, by and by, when she saw everything being packed in the canoe,
+she suddenly found her tongue. "Aren't you going to feed me?" she
+demanded.
+
+"No time now," he answered teasingly.
+
+Her face turned dark with rage. "You hangman!" she muttered savagely.
+"You've got a hangman's face all right! Anybody would know what you are
+without your livery!"
+
+Stonor laughed. "Dear! Dear! We are in a pleasant humour this morning!
+You believe in the golden rule, don't you?--for others!"
+
+When he was ready to start he regarded her grimly. He saw no recourse
+but to take her with him, thus quadrupling his difficulties. He did
+consider leaving her behind on the chance of returning later, but he
+could not tell what hazards the day might have for him. He might be
+prevented from returning, and murderess though she were, she was human,
+and he could not bring himself to leave her helpless in the bush. She
+stolidly watched the struggle going on in him.
+
+He gave in to his humanitarian instincts with a sigh. As a final
+precaution he gagged her securely with a handkerchief. He wished to take
+no chances of her raising an alarm as they approached Imbrie's camp. He
+then picked her up and laid her in the canoe. She rolled the light craft
+from side to side.
+
+"If you overturn us you'll drown like a stone," said Stonor, grinning.
+"That would help solve my difficulties."
+
+After that she lay still, her eyes blazing.
+
+Stonor proceeded. This part of the river was narrow and fairly deep,
+and the current ran steadily and slow. Through breaks in the ranks of
+the trees he caught sight from time to time of the bench on either hand,
+which now rose in high bold hills. From this he guessed that he had got
+back to the true prairie country again. As is always the case in that
+country, the slope to the north of the river was grassy, while the
+southerly slope was heavily wooded to the top.
+
+He peered around each bend with a fast-beating heart, but Imbrie's camp
+proved to be not so near as he had expected. He put a mile behind him,
+and another mile, and there was still no sign of it. Evidently the woman
+had not made her way through the bush, as he had supposed, but had been
+dropped off to wait for him. After giving him his quietus she had no
+doubt intended to take his canoe and join her party. Well, it was
+another lovely morning, and Stonor was thankful her plan had miscarried.
+
+The river took a twist to the southward. The sun rose and shot his beams
+horizontally through the tree-trunks, lighting up the underbrush with a
+strange golden splendour. It was lovely and slightly unreal, like
+stage-lighting. The surface of the river itself seemed to be dusted with
+light. Far overhead against the blue, so tender and so far away at this
+latitude, eagles circled and joyously screamed, each one as if he had an
+intermittent alarm in his throat.
+
+In the bow the woman lay glaring at him venomously. Stonor could not
+help but think: "What a gorgeous old world to be fouled with murder and
+hatred!"
+
+At last, as he crept around an overhanging clump of willows, he saw what
+he was in search of, and his heart gave a great leap. Arresting his
+paddle, he clung to the branches and peered through, debating what to
+do. They were still far off and he had not been perceived. With
+straining eyes he watched the three tiny figures that meant so much to
+him. Unfortunately there was no chance of taking Imbrie by surprise, for
+he had had the wit to choose a camping-place that commanded a view
+down-stream for half a mile. Stonor considered landing, and attempting
+to take them from the rear, but even as he looked he saw Imbrie loading
+the dug-out. They would be gone long before he could make his way round
+through the bush. There was nothing to do but make a dash for it.
+
+They saw him as soon as he rounded the bend. There was a strange
+dramatic quality in the little beings running this way and that on the
+beach. Stonor, straining every nerve to reach them, was nevertheless
+obliged to be the witness of a drama in which he was powerless to
+intervene. He saw Imbrie throw what remained of his baggage into the
+dug-out. He saw the two petticoated figures start running up the beach
+towards him, Stonor. Imbrie started after them. The larger of the two
+figures dropped back and grappled with the man, evidently to give the
+other a chance to escape. But Imbrie succeeded in flinging her off, and,
+after a short chase, seized the other woman. Stonor could make out the
+little green Norfolk suit now.
+
+Mary snatched up a billet of wood, and as the man came staggering back
+with his burden, she attacked him. He backed towards the dug-out,
+holding Clare's body in front of him as a shield. But under Mary's
+attacks he was finally compelled to drop Clare. She must have fainted,
+for she lay without moving. Imbrie closed with Mary, and there was a
+brief violent struggle. He succeeded in flinging her off again. He
+reached the dug-out. Mary attacked him again. Snatching up his gun, he
+fired at her point-blank. She crumpled up on the stones.
+
+Imbrie picked up Clare and flung her in the dug-out. He pushed off. All
+this had been enacted in not much more time than it takes to read of
+it. Stonor was now within a furlong, but still helpless, for he dared
+not fire at Imbrie for fear of hitting Clare. The dug-out escaped out of
+sight round a bend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+UPS AND DOWNS
+
+
+Stonor, raging in his helplessness, was nevertheless obliged to stop. He
+found Mary conscious, biting her lips until they bled to keep from
+groaning. Her face was ashy. Yet she insisted on sitting up to prove to
+him that she was not badly hurt.
+
+"Go on! Go on!" she was muttering as he reached her. "I all right. Don'
+stop! Go after him!"
+
+"Where are you hurt?" Stonor demanded.
+
+"Just my leg. No bone broke. It is not'ing. Go after him!"
+
+"I can't leave you like this!"
+
+"Give me your little medicine-bag. I dress it all right myself. Go
+quick!"
+
+"Be quiet! Let me think!" cried the distracted trooper. "I can't leave
+you here helpless. I can't tell when I'll be back. You must have food, a
+blanket, gun and ammunition."
+
+As he spoke, he set about getting out what she needed; first of all the
+little medicine chest that he never travelled without. He laid aside the
+breed woman's gun and shells for her, and one of his two blankets. The
+delay was maddening. With every second he pictured Imbrie drawing
+further and further away, Clare without a protector now. Though the
+dug-out was heavier than the bark-canoe, he would be handicapped by the
+devilish breed woman, who would be sure to hinder him by every means
+within her power. Yet he still closed his ears to Mary's urgings to be
+off. He built up Imbrie's fire and put on water to heat for her. He
+carried her near the fire, where she could help herself.
+
+As he worked a new plan came to him, a way out of part of his
+difficulties. "Mary," he said suddenly, "I'm going to leave the canoe
+with you, too, and this woman to take care of for me. I'll take to the
+bench. I can cut him off above."
+
+"No! No!" she groaned. "Leave the woman and take the canoe. You can come
+back when you get her."
+
+But his mind was made up. A new hope lightened his despair. "No! He
+might get me. Then you'd starve to death. I don't mean to let him get
+me, but I can't take the chance. I'll travel faster light. Even if I
+don't get him to-day, he shan't shake me off. The river is bound to get
+more difficult as he goes up. And it's prairie-land above."
+
+He hastened to get together his pack: gun and ammunition, knife,
+hatchet, matches, and a little cooking-pot; a small store of flour,
+salt, baking-powder and smoked meat.
+
+"Mary, as soon as you feel able to travel, you are to start down-stream
+in the canoe with the woman. It is up to you to take her out, and
+deliver her to the authorities. The charge is attempted murder. You are
+to tell John Gaviller everything that has happened, and let him act
+accordingly."
+
+All this was said in low tones to keep it from reaching the breed
+woman's ears. Stonor now dropped to his knees and put his lips to Mary's
+ear. "Tell Gaviller we know for sure that Imbrie is trying to escape
+over the mountains by way of the head-waters of the Swan, and to make
+sure that he is intercepted there if he slips through our fingers
+below."
+
+"I onerstan'," said Mary.
+
+He gave her a pull from his flask, and she was able to sit up and attend
+to the dressing of her own wound.
+
+In ten minutes Stonor was ready to start. He put on a cheery air for
+Mary's benefit. Truly the Indian woman had a task before her that might
+have appalled the stoutest-hearted man.
+
+"Good-bye, Mary!" he said, gripping her hand. "You're a good pardner. I
+shan't forget it. Keep up a good heart. Remember you're a policeman now.
+Going down you're only about three days' journey from Myengeen's
+village. And you'll have company--though I can't recommend it much. Keep
+the gun in your own hands."
+
+Mary shrugged, with her customary stoicism. "I make her work for me."
+She added simply: "Good-bye, Stonor. Bring her back safe."
+
+"I won't come without her," he said, and with a wave of his hand struck
+into the bush.
+
+He laid a course at right angles to the river. The floor of this part of
+the valley was covered with a forest which had never known axe nor fire,
+and the going was difficult and slow over the down timber, some
+freshly-fallen, making well-nigh impassable barricades erected on the
+stumps of its broken branches, some which crumbled to powder at a touch.
+There was no undergrowth except a few lean shrubs that stretched great,
+pale leaves to catch the attenuated rays that filtered down. It was as
+cool and still as a room with a lofty ceiling. High overhead the leaves
+sparkled in the sun.
+
+It was about half a mile to the foot of the bench, that is to say, to
+the side of the gigantic trough that carried the river through the
+prairie country, though it required an amount of exertion that would
+have carried one over ten times that distance of road. As soon as Stonor
+began to climb he left the forest behind him; first it diminished into
+scattered trees and scrub and then ceased altogether in clean, short
+grass, already curing under the summer sun. Presently Stonor was able
+to look clear over the tops of the trees; it was like rising from a
+mine.
+
+The slope was not regular, but pushed up everywhere in fantastic knolls
+and terraces. He directed his course as he climbed for a bold projecting
+point from which he hoped to obtain a prospect up the valley. Reaching
+it at last, he gave himself a breathing-space. He saw, as he hoped, that
+the valley, which here ran due north and south, returned to its normal
+course from the westward a few miles above. Thus, by making a bee-line
+across the prairie, he could cut off a great bend in the watercourse,
+not to speak of the lesser windings of the river in its valley. He
+prayed that Imbrie might have many a rapid to buck that day.
+
+On top of the bench the prairie rolled to the horizon with nothing to
+break the expanse of grass but patches of scrub. Stonor's heart,
+burdened as it was, lifted up at the sight. "After all, there's nothing
+like the old bald-headed to satisfy a man's soul," he thought. "If I
+only had Miles Aroon under me now!" Taking his bearings, he set off
+through the grass at the rolling walk he had learned from the Indians.
+
+Of that long day there is little to report. The endless slopes of grass
+presented no distinguishing features; he was alone with the west wind's
+noble clouds. He came up on the wind on a brown bear with cream-coloured
+snout staying his stomach with the bark of poplar shoots until the
+berries should be ripe, and sent him doubling himself up with a shout.
+Time was too precious to allow of more than one spell. This he took
+beside a stream of clear water at the bottom of a vast coulée that lay
+athwart his path. While his biscuits were baking he bagged a couple of
+prairie-chickens. One he ate, and one he carried along with him, "for
+Clare's supper."
+
+At about four o'clock in the afternoon, that is to say, the time of the
+second spell, he struck the edge of the bench again, and once more the
+valley was spread below him. He searched it eagerly. The forest covered
+it like a dark mat, and the surface of the river was only visible in
+spots here and there. He found what he was looking for, and his heart
+raised a little song; a thin thread of smoke rising above the trees
+alongside the river, and at least a couple of miles in his rear.
+
+"I'll get him now!" he told himself.
+
+He debated whether to hasten directly to the river, or continue further
+over the prairie. He decided that the margin of safety was not yet quite
+wide enough, and took another line along the bench.
+
+Three hours later he came out on the river's edge with a heart beating
+high with hope. The placid empty reach that opened to his view told him
+nothing, of course, but he was pretty sure that Imbrie was safely below
+him. His principal fear was that he had come too far; that Imbrie might
+not make it before dark. The prospect of leaving Clare unprotected in
+his hands through the night was one to make Stonor shudder. He decided
+that if Imbrie did not come up by dark, he would make his way down
+alongshore until he came on their camp.
+
+Meanwhile he sought down-stream for a better point of vantage. He came
+to a rapid. The absence of tracks on either side proved positively that
+Imbrie had not got so far as this. Stonor decided to wait here. The man
+would have to get out to track his dug-out up the swift water, and
+Stonor would have him where he wanted him. Or if it was late when he got
+here, he would no doubt camp.
+
+Stonor saw that the natural tracking-path was across the stream; on the
+other side also was the best camping-spot, a shelving ledge of rock with
+a low earth bank above. In order to be ready for them, therefore, he
+stripped and swam across below the rapid, towing his clothes and his
+pack on an improvised raft, that he broke up immediately on landing.
+Dressing, he took up his station behind a clump of berry-bushes that
+skirted the bank. Here he lay at full length with his gun in his hands.
+He made a little gap in the bushes through which he could command the
+river for a furlong or so.
+
+He lay there with his eyes fixed on the point around which the dug-out
+must appear. The sun was sinking low; they must soon come or they would
+not come. On this day he was sure Imbrie would work to the limit. He
+smiled grimly to think how the man would be paddling with his head over
+his shoulder, never guessing how danger lay ahead. Oh, but it was hard
+to wait, though! His muscles twitched, the blood hammered in his
+temples.
+
+By and by, from too intense a concentration on a single point, the whole
+scene became slightly unreal. Stonor found himself thinking: "This is
+all a dream. Presently I will wake up."
+
+In the end, when the dug-out did come snaking around the bend, he rubbed
+his eyes to make sure they did not deceive him. Though he had been
+waiting for it all that time, it had the effect of a stunning surprise.
+His heart set up a tremendous beating, and his breath failed him a
+little. Then suddenly, as they came closer, a great calm descended on
+him. He realized that this was the moment he had planned for, and that
+his calculations were now proved correct. For the last time he threw
+over the mechanism of his gun and reloaded it.
+
+Imbrie was paddling in the stern, of course. The man looked pretty
+nearly spent, and there was little of his cynical impudence to be seen
+now. Clare lay on her stomach on the baggage amidships, staring ahead
+with her chin propped in her palms, a characteristic boy's attitude that
+touched Stonor's heart. Her face was as white as paper, and bore a look
+of desperate composure. Stonor had never seen that look; seeing it now
+he shuddered, thinking, what if he had not found them before nightfall!
+
+Imbrie grounded the canoe on the shelf of rock immediately below Stonor,
+and no more than five paces from the muzzle of his gun. Clare climbed
+out over the baggage without waiting to be spoken to, and walked away
+up-stream a few steps, keeping her back turned to the man. Her head was
+sunk between her shoulders; she stared out over the rapids, seeing
+nothing. At the sight of the little figure's piteous dejection rage
+surged up in Stonor; he saw red.
+
+Imbrie got out and went to pick his course up the rapids. He cast a
+sidelong look at Clare's back as he passed her. The man was too weary to
+have much devilry in him at the moment. But in his dark eyes there was a
+promise of devilry.
+
+Having laid out his course he returned to the bow of the dug-out for his
+tracking-line. This was the moment Stonor had been waiting for. He rose
+up and stepped forward through the low bushes. Clare saw him first. A
+little gasping cry broke from her. Imbrie spun round, and found himself
+looking into the barrel of the policeman's Enfield. No sound escaped
+from Imbrie. His lips turned back over his teeth like an animal's.
+
+Stonor said, in a voice of deceitful softness: "Take your knife and cut
+off a length of that line, say about ten feet."
+
+No one could have guessed from his look nor his tone that an insane rage
+possessed him; that he was fighting the impulse to reverse his gun and
+club the man's brains out there on the rock.
+
+Imbrie did not instantly move to obey.
+
+"Look sharp!" rasped Stonor. "It wouldn't come hard for me to put a
+bullet through you!"
+
+Imbrie thought better of it, and cut off the rope as ordered.
+
+"Now throw the knife on the ground."
+
+Imbrie obeyed, and stepped towards Stonor, holding the rope out. There
+was an evil glint in his eye.
+
+Stonor stepped back. "No, you don't! Keep within shooting distance, or
+this gun will go off!"
+
+Imbrie stopped.
+
+"Miss Starling," said Stonor. "Come and tie this man's wrists together
+behind his back, while I keep him covered."
+
+She approached, still staring half witlessly as if she saw an
+apparition. She was shaking like an aspen-leaf.
+
+"Pull yourself together!" commanded Stonor with stern kindness. "I am
+not a ghost. I am depending on you!"
+
+Her back straightened. She took the rope from Imbrie's hands, and passed
+a turn around his extended wrists. Stonor kept his gun at the man's
+head.
+
+"At this range it would make a clean hole," he said, grinning.
+
+To Clare he said: "Tie it as tight as you can. I'll finish the job."
+
+When she had done her best, he handed his gun over and doubled the
+knots. Forcing Imbrie to a sitting position, he likewise tied his
+ankles.
+
+"That will hold him, I think," he said, rising.
+
+The words seemed to break the spell that held Clare. She sank down on
+the stones and burst into tears, shaking from head to foot with
+uncontrollable soft sobs. The sight unnerved Stonor.
+
+"Oh, don't!" he cried like a man daft, clenching his impotent hands.
+
+Imbrie smiled. Watching Stonor, he said with unnatural perspicacity:
+"You'd like to pick her up, wouldn't you?"
+
+Stonor spun on his heel toward the man. "Hold your tongue!" he roared.
+"By God! another word and I'll brain you! You damned scoundrel! You
+scum!"
+
+If Imbrie had wished to provoke the other man to an outburst, he got a
+little more than enough. He cringed from the other's blazing eyes, and
+said no more.
+
+Stonor bent over Clare. "Don't, don't grieve so!" he murmured.
+"Everything is all right now."
+
+"I know," she whispered. "It's just--just relief. I'm just silly now.
+To-day was too much--too much to bear!"
+
+"I know," he said. "Come away with me."
+
+He helped her to her feet and they walked away along the beach. Imbrie's
+eyes as they followed were not pleasant to see.
+
+"Martin, I must touch you--to prove that you're real," she said
+appealingly. "Is it wrong?"
+
+"Take my arm," he said. He drew her close to his side.
+
+"Martin, that man cannot ever have been my husband. It is not possible I
+could ever have given myself to such a one!"
+
+"I don't believe he is."
+
+"Martin, I meant to throw myself in the river to-night if you had not
+come."
+
+"Ah, don't! I can't bear it! I saw."
+
+"My flesh crawls at him! To be alone with such a monster--so terribly
+alone--I can't tell you----!"
+
+"Don't distress yourself so!"
+
+"I'm not--now. I'm relieving myself. I've got to talk, or my head will
+burst. The thing that keeps things in broke just now. I've got to talk.
+I suppose I'm putting it all off on you now."
+
+"I guess I can stand it," he said grimly.
+
+She asked very low: "Do you love me, Martin?"
+
+"You know I do."
+
+"Yes, I know, but I had to make you say it, because I've got to tell
+you. I love you. I adore you. If loving you in my mind is wicked, I
+shall have to be a wicked woman. Oh, I'll keep the law. From what I
+told you in the beginning, I must have already done some man a wrong. I
+shall not wrong another. But I had to tell you. You knew already, so it
+can do no great harm."
+
+He glanced back at Imbrie. "If the law should insist on keeping up such
+a horrible thing it would have to be defied," he said--"even if I am a
+policeman!"
+
+"I tell you he is not the man."
+
+"I hope you're right."
+
+"But if I am not free, I should not let you ruin yourself on my
+account."
+
+"Ruin? That's only a word. A man's all right as long as he can work."
+
+"Oh, Martin, it seems as if I brought trouble and unhappiness on all
+whom I approach!"
+
+"That's nonsense!" he said quickly. "You've made me! However this thing
+turns out. You've brought beauty into my life. You've taken me out of
+myself. You've given me an ideal to live up to!"
+
+"Ah, how sweet for you to say it!" she murmured. "It makes me feel real.
+I am only a poor wandering ghost of a woman, and you're so solid and
+convincing!
+
+"There! I'm all right now!" she said, with an abrupt return to the
+boyish, prosaic air that he found utterly adorable. "I have exploded.
+I'm hungry. Let's go back and make supper. It's your turn to talk. Tell
+me how you got here in advance of us, you wonderful man! And Mary----!"
+She stopped short and her eyes filled. "How selfish of me to forget her
+even for a moment!"
+
+"She was not badly wounded," he said. "We'll probably overtake her
+to-morrow."
+
+"And you? I thought I saw a ghost when you rose up from the bushes."
+
+"No magic in that," said Stonor. "I just walked round by the hills."
+
+"Just walked round by the hills," she echoed, mocking his offhand
+manner, and burst out laughing. "That was nothing at all!" Her eyes
+added something more that she dared not put into words: "You were made
+for a woman to love to distraction!"
+
+When they returned to the dug-out, Imbrie studied their faces through
+narrowed lids, trying to read there what had passed between them. Their
+serenity discomposed him. Hateful taunts trembled on his lips, but he
+dared not utter them.
+
+As for Clare and Stonor, neither of them sentimental persons, their
+breasts were eased. Each now felt that he could depend on the other in
+the best sense until death: meanwhile passion could wait. They made a
+fire together and cooked their supper with as unconscious an air as if
+they had just come out from home a mile or two to picnic. They ignored
+Imbrie, particularly Clare, who, with that wonderful faculty that women
+possess, simply obliterated him by her unconsciousness of his presence.
+The prisoner could not understand their air towards each other. He
+watched them with a puzzled scowl. Clare was like a child over the
+prairie-chicken. An amiable dispute arose over the division of it, which
+Stonor won and forced her to eat every mouthful.
+
+She washed the dishes while he cleared a space among the bushes on top
+of the bank, and pitched her little tent. The camp-bed was still in
+Imbrie's outfit, and Stonor set it up with tender hands, thinking of the
+burden it would bear throughout the night. Also in Imbrie's outfit he
+found his own service revolver, which he returned to Clare for her
+protection.
+
+Afterwards they made a little private fire for themselves a hundred feet
+or so from Imbrie, and sedately sat themselves down beside it to talk.
+
+Stonor said: "If you feel like it, tell me what happened after I went to
+hunt my horses that morning."
+
+"I feel like it," she said, with a smile. "It is such a comfort to be
+able to talk again. Mary and I scarcely dared whisper. You had been gone
+about half an hour that morning when all the Indians rode down out of
+the woods, and crossed the ford to our side. There were about thirty of
+them, I should say. I did just what you told me, that is, went on with
+my packing as if they were not there. For a little while they stood
+around staring like sulky children. Finally one of them said to me
+through Mary with a sort of truculent air, like a child experimenting to
+see how far he can go, that they were going to take Imbrie back. I told
+Mary to tell him that that was up to him; that he would have to deal
+with you later, if they did. Meanwhile I noticed they were edging
+between me and Imbrie, and presently Imbrie stood up, unbound. He took
+command of the band. It seemed he had known they were coming. I was only
+anxious to see them all ride off and leave us.
+
+"Soon I saw there was worse coming. At first I knew only by Mary's
+scared face. She argued with them. She would not tell me what it was all
+about. Gradually I understood that Imbrie was telling them I was his
+wife, and they must take me, too. I almost collapsed. Mary did the best
+she could for me. I don't know all that she said. It did no good. The
+principal Indian asked me if I was Imbrie's wife, and I could only
+answer that I did not know, that I had lost my memory. I suppose this
+seemed like a mere evasion to them. When Mary saw that they were
+determined, she said they must take her, too. She thought this was what
+you would want. They refused, but she threatened to identify every man
+of them to the police, so they had to take her.
+
+"One man's horse had been killed, and they sent him and three others off
+to the Horse Track village on foot to get horses to ride home on. That
+provided horses for Imbrie, Mary, and me. They made them go at top speed
+all day. I expect it nearly killed the horses. I was like a dead woman;
+I neither felt weariness nor anything else much. If it had not been for
+Mary I could not have survived it.
+
+"We arrived at their village near Swan Lake early in the afternoon.
+Imbrie stopped there only long enough to collect food. We never had
+anything to eat but tough smoked meat of some kind, dry biscuits, and
+bitter tea, horrible stuff! It didn't make much difference, though.
+
+"Imbrie told the Indians what to say when the police came. He couldn't
+speak their language very well, so he had to use Mary to translate, and
+Mary told me. Mary was trying to get on Imbrie's good side now. She said
+it wouldn't do any harm, and might make things easier for us. If we
+lulled his suspicions we might get a chance to escape later, she said.
+She wanted me to make up to Imbrie, too, but I couldn't.
+
+"Imbrie told the Indians to go about their usual work as if nothing had
+happened, and simply deny everything if they were questioned. Nothing
+could be proved he said, for he and Mary and I would never be found nor
+heard of again. He was going to take us back to his country, he said. By
+that they understood, I think, that we were going to disappear off the
+earth. They seemed to have the most absolute faith in him. They thought
+you wouldn't dare follow until you had secured help from the post, which
+would take many days."
+
+"What about the breed woman?" interrupted Stonor.
+
+"She was waiting there at the Swan Lake village. She came with us as a
+matter of course, and helped paddle the dug-out. Mary paddled, too, but
+she didn't work as hard as she made believe. We got in the river before
+dark, but Imbrie made them paddle until late. I dreaded the first camp,
+but Imbrie let me alone. Mary said he was afraid of me because he
+thought I was crazy. After that, you may be sure, I played up to that
+idea. It worked for a day or two, but I saw from his eyes that he was
+gradually becoming suspicious.
+
+"At night Imbrie and the breed woman took turns watching. Whenever we
+got a chance Mary and I talked about you, and what you would do. We knew
+of course that the man was coming out from Fort Enterprise, and I was
+sure that you would send him back for aid, and come right after us
+yourself. So Mary wrote you the note on a piece of bark, and set it
+adrift in the current. It was wonderful how she deceived them right
+before their eyes. But they gave us a good deal of freedom. They knew we
+could do nothing unless we could get weapons, or steal the canoes. She
+went down the shore a little way to launch her message to you.
+
+"Well, that's about all I can remember. The days on the river were like
+a nightmare. All we did was to watch for you, and listen at night. Then
+came yesterday. By that time Imbrie was beginning to feel secure, and
+was taking it easier. We were sitting on the shore after the second
+spell when the breed woman came running in in a panic. We understood
+from her gestures that she had seen you turning into the next reach of
+the river below. Mary's heart and mine jumped for joy. Imbrie hustled us
+into the dug-out, and paddled like mad until he had put a couple of
+bends between us and the spot.
+
+"Later, he put the breed woman ashore. She had her gun. We were
+terrified for you, but could do nothing. Imbrie carried us a long way
+further before he camped. That was a dreadful night. We had no way of
+knowing what was happening. Then came this morning. You saw what
+happened then."
+
+Stonor asked: "What did you make of that breed woman?"
+
+"Nothing much, Martin. I felt just as I had with Imbrie, that I must
+have known her at some time. She treated me well enough; that is to
+say, she made no secret of the fact that she despised me, but was
+constrained to look after me as something that Imbrie valued."
+
+"Jealous?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What is the connection between her and Imbrie?"
+
+"I don't know. They just seemed to take each other for granted."
+
+"How did Imbrie address her?"
+
+"I don't know. They spoke to each other in some Indian tongue. Mary said
+it sounded a little like the Beaver language, but she could not
+understand it."
+
+"Where do you suppose this woman kept herself while Imbrie was living
+beside the falls?"
+
+Clare shook her head.
+
+"If we knew that it would explain much!"
+
+"Well, that's all of my story," said Clare. "Now tell me every little
+thing you've done and thought since you left us."
+
+"That's a large order," said Stonor, smiling.
+
+When he had finished his tale he took her to the door of her tent.
+
+"Where are you going to sleep?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Down by the fire."
+
+"Near--him?"
+
+"That won't keep me awake."
+
+"But if he should work loose and attack you?"
+
+"I'll take precious good care of that."
+
+"It's so far away!" she said plaintively.
+
+"Twenty-five feet!" he said smiling.
+
+"Couldn't you--sleep close outside my tent where I could hear you
+breathing if I woke?"
+
+He smiled, and gave her his eyes deep and clear. There comes a moment
+between every two who deeply love when shame naturally drops away, and
+to assume shame after that is the rankest hypocrisy. "I couldn't," he
+said simply.
+
+She felt no shame either. "Very well," she said. "You know best.
+Good-night, Martin."
+
+Stonor went back to the fire. He was too much excited to think of
+sleeping immediately, but it was a happy excitement; he could even
+afford at the moment not to hate Imbrie. The prisoner watched his every
+movement through eyes that he tried to make sleepy-looking, but the
+sparkle of hatred betrayed him.
+
+"You seem well pleased with yourself," he sneered.
+
+"Why shouldn't I be?" said Stonor good-naturedly. "Haven't I made a good
+haul to-day?"
+
+"How did you do it?"
+
+"I just borrowed a little of your magic for the occasion and flew
+through the air."
+
+"Well, you're not out of the woods yet," said Imbrie sourly.
+
+"No?"
+
+"And if you do succeed in taking me in, you'll have some great
+explaining to do."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"To satisfy your officers why you hounded a man simply because you were
+after his wife."
+
+Stonor grinned. "Now that view of the matter never occurred to me!"
+
+"It will to others."
+
+"Well, we'll see."
+
+"What's become of the two women?" asked Imbrie.
+
+"They're on their way down-stream."
+
+"What happened anyway, damn you?"
+
+Stonor laughed and told him.
+
+Later, after a thoughtful silence, Stonor suddenly asked: "Imbrie, how
+did you treat measles among the Kakisas last year? That would be a good
+thing for me to know."
+
+"No doubt. But I shan't tell you," was the sullen answer.
+
+"The worst thing we have to deal with up here is pneumonia; how would
+you deal with a case?"
+
+"What are you asking me such questions for?"
+
+"Well, you're supposed to be a doctor."
+
+"I'm not going to share my medical knowledge with every guy who asks. It
+was too hard to come by."
+
+"That's not the usual doctor's attitude."
+
+"A hell of a lot I care!"
+
+Stonor took out his note-book, and wrote across one of the pages: "The
+body was not carried over the falls." He then poked the fire into a
+bright blaze, and showed the page to Imbrie.
+
+"What have I written?" he asked, watching the man narrowly.
+
+Imbrie glanced at it indifferently, and away again. There was not the
+slightest change in his expression. Stonor was convinced he had not
+understood it.
+
+"I won't tell you," muttered Imbrie.
+
+"Just as you like. If I untie your hands, will you write a line from my
+dictation?"
+
+"No. What foolishness is this?"
+
+"Only that I suspect you can neither read nor write. This is your
+opportunity to prove that you can."
+
+"Oh, go to hell!"
+
+"I'm satisfied," said Stonor, putting away the book.
+
+Travelling down the river next morning was child's play by comparison
+with the labour of the ascent. The current carried them with light
+hearts. That is to say, two of the hearts on board were light. Imbrie,
+crouched in the bow with his inscrutable gaze, was hatching new schemes
+of villainy perhaps. Clare sat as far as possible from him, and with her
+back turned. All day she maintained the fiction that she and Stonor were
+alone in the dug-out. In the reaction from the terrors of the last few
+days her speech bubbled like a child's. She pitched her voice low to
+keep it from carrying forward. All her thoughts looked to the future.
+
+"Three or four days to the village at Swan Lake, you say. We won't have
+to wait there, will we?"
+
+"My horses are waiting."
+
+"Then four days more to Fort Enterprise. You said there was a white
+woman there. How I long to see one of my own kind! She'll be my
+first--in this incarnation. Then we'll go right out on the steamboat,
+won't we?"
+
+"We'll have to wait a few days for her August trip."
+
+"You'll come with me, of course."
+
+"Yes, I'll have to take my prisoners out to headquarters at Miwasa
+landing--perhaps all the way to town if it is so ordered."
+
+"And when we get to town, what shall I do? Adrift on the world!"
+
+"Before that I am sure we will meet with anxious inquiries for you."
+
+"Yes, I have a comfortable feeling at the back of my head that I have
+people somewhere. Poor things, what a state they must be in! It will be
+part of your duty to take me home, won't it? Surely the authorities
+wouldn't let me travel alone."
+
+"Surely not!" said Stonor assuming more confidence than he felt.
+
+"Isn't it strange and thrilling to think of a civilized land where
+trolley cars clang in the streets, and electric lights shine at night;
+where people, crowds and crowds of people, do exactly the same things at
+the same hours every day of their lives except Sundays, and never dream
+of any other kind of life! Think of sauntering down-town in a pretty
+summer dress and a becoming hat, and chatting with scores of people you
+know, and looking at things in the stores and buying useless
+trifles--where have I done all that, I wonder? Think of pulling up one's
+chair to a snowy tablecloth--and, oh, Martin! the taste of good food!
+Funny, isn't it, when I have forgotten so much, that I should remember
+_things_ so well!"
+
+Clare insisted that Stonor had overtired himself the last few days, and
+made him loaf at the paddle with many a pause to fill and light his
+pipe. Even so their progress was faster than in the other direction.
+Shortly after midday she told him that they were nearing the spot where
+Mary had been shot the day before. They looked eagerly for the place.
+
+To their great disappointment Mary had gone. However, Stonor pointed out
+that it was a good sign she had been able to travel so soon.
+
+They camped for the night at a spot where Mary had spelled the day
+before. Stonor observed from the tracks that it was the breed woman who
+had moved around the fire cooking. Mary apparently had been unable to
+leave the canoe. It made him anxious. He did not speak of it to Clare.
+He saw Imbrie examining the tracks also.
+
+This camping-place was a bed of clean, dry sand deposited on the inside
+of one of the river-bends, and exposed by the falling water. Stonor
+chose it because it promised a soft bed, and his bones were weary. The
+bank above was about ten feet high and covered with a dense undergrowth
+of bushes, which they did not try to penetrate, since a dead tree
+stranded on the beach provided an ample store of fuel. Clare's tent was
+pitched at one end of the little beach, while Imbrie, securely bound,
+and Stonor slept one on each side of the fire a few paces distant.
+
+In the morning Stonor was the first astir. A delicate grey haze hung
+over the river, out of which the tops of the willow-bushes rose like
+islands. He chopped and split a length of the stranded trunk, and made
+up the fire. Imbrie awoke, and lay watching him with a lazy sneer.
+Stonor had no warning of the catastrophe. He was stooping over sorting
+out the contents of Imbrie's grub-bag, his back to the bushes, when
+there came a crashing sound that seemed within him--yet outside. That
+was all he knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE LAST STAGE ON SWAN RIVER.
+
+
+When Stonor's sense returned the first thing of which he was conscious
+was Clare's soft hand on his head. He opened his eyes and saw her face
+bending over him, the nurse's face, serious, compassionate and
+self-forgetful. No one knows what reserves may be contained in a woman
+until another's wound draws on them. He found himself lying where he had
+fallen; but there was a bag under his neck to hold his head up. Putting
+up his hand he found that his head was tightly bandaged. There seemed to
+be a mechanical hammer inside his skull.
+
+"What happened?" he whispered.
+
+She scarcely breathed her reply. "The woman shot you. She was hidden in
+the bush."
+
+Looking beyond her, Stonor saw Imbrie and the breed woman eating by the
+fire in high good humour. He observed that the woman was wearing the
+revolver he had given Clare.
+
+"She disarmed me before I could fire," Clare went on. "Your wound is not
+serious. The bullet only ploughed the scalp above your ear."
+
+"Who bandaged me?"
+
+"I did. They didn't want to let me, but I made them. I sewed the wound
+first. I don't know how I did it, but I did."
+
+Imbrie looked over and saw them talking. "Let him alone," he said
+harshly. "Come over here and get your breakfast."
+
+"Go," said Stonor with his eyes and lips. "If he attempted to ill-treat
+you in my sight I----"
+
+She understood, and went without demur. Imbrie motioned her to a place
+beside him and put a plate before her. She went through the motions of
+eating, but her eyes never left Stonor's face. Stonor closed his eyes
+and considered their situation. Frightful enough it was in good sooth,
+yet it might have been worse. For as he lay quiet he felt his powers
+returning. Beyond a slight nausea he was himself again. He thanked God
+for a hard skull.
+
+Meanwhile the breed woman was bragging of her exploit. She spoke in
+English for the pleasure it gave her to triumph over the whites.
+
+"He gave Mary his canoe and made for the bench."
+
+"I know that," said Imbrie. "Go on."
+
+"Well, as soon as Mary had bound up her leg she wanted to start. But her
+leg got worse on the way. When it came time to spell, she had to untie
+me and let me cook, while she kept watch over me with the gun--my gun
+that Stonor gave her. It was at this place that we spelled. When we went
+on, her leg kept getting worse, and soon she said we'd have to stop for
+the night. So I made camp. Then she ordered me to come up to her and get
+my hands tied, and patted the gun as a sort of hint. I went up to her
+all right, and when she put down the gun and took up the rope, I
+snatched up the gun, and then I had her!"
+
+The woman and Imbrie roared with laughter.
+
+"Then I just took her knife and her food, and went," the woman said,
+callously.
+
+"Damned inhuman--!" Stonor cried involuntarily.
+
+"What's the matter with you!" she returned. "Do you think I was going to
+let her take me in and turn me over for shooting at a policeman? Not if
+I know it! I was charitable to her if it comes to that. I could have
+taken her canoe, too, and then she would properly have starved. But I
+left her the canoe and a piece of bread, too. Mary Moosa is fat enough.
+I guess she can live off her fat long enough to get to Myengeen's
+village."
+
+"What then?" asked Imbrie.
+
+"I just walked off up the river. She couldn't follow me with her leg.
+She couldn't track the canoe up the rapids. All she can do is to go on
+down."
+
+"How did you know where I was?" asked Imbrie.
+
+"I didn't know. I took a chance. I had the gun and a belt of cartridges.
+I can snare fool-hens and catch fish. It was a sight better than going
+to jail. I knew if the policeman got you he'd bring you down river, and
+I figured I'd have another chance to get him. And if you got him I
+figured there wouldn't be any hurry, and you'd wait for awhile for me."
+
+"You did well," said Imbrie with condescending approval.
+
+"Nearly all night I walked along the shore looking for your camp. At
+last I saw the little tent and I knew I was all right. Then I waited for
+daylight to shoot. The damned policeman turned his head as I fired, or I
+would have finished him."
+
+Imbrie dropped into the Indian tongue that they ordinarily used. From
+his knowledge of the Beaver language Stonor understood it pretty well,
+though a word escaped him here and there.
+
+"What will we do with him?" he said.
+
+"Be careful," she said. "They may understand."
+
+"No fear of that. We know that Clare doesn't speak our tongue."
+
+"Maybe the policeman speaks Beaver."
+
+"He doesn't, though. He spoke English to them. I asked Shose Cardinal if
+he spoke Beaver, and he said no. And when I pushed off I insulted him in
+our tongue, and he paid no attention. Listen to this----"
+
+Imbrie turned, and in the Indian tongue addressed an unrepeatable insult
+to the wounded trooper. Stonor, though almost suffocated with rage,
+contrived to maintain an unchanged face.
+
+"You see?" said Imbrie to the woman, laughing. "No white man would take
+that. We can say what we like to each other. Speak English now just to
+torment him, the swine! Ask me in English what I'm going to do with
+him."
+
+She did so.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," he answered carelessly. "Just tie him up, I guess,
+and leave him sitting here."
+
+"Tie him up?" she said with an evil smile.
+
+"Sure! Give him leisure to prepare for his end."
+
+They laughed together.
+
+Stonor dreaded the effect of this on Clare. She, however, seemed to be
+upborne by some inner thought.
+
+"I know something better than that," the woman said presently.
+
+"What?"
+
+"Don't tie him up. Leave him just as he is, without gun, axe or knife.
+Let him walk around until he goes off his nut or starves to death. Then
+there'll be no evidence. But if you leave him tied they'll find his body
+with the rope round it."
+
+"That's a good idea. But he might possibly make his way to Myengeen's
+village."
+
+"Just let him try it. It's a hundred and fifty miles round by land.
+Muskeg and down timber."
+
+"But if he sticks to the river, Mary Moosa might bring him back help."
+
+"She'll get no help from Myengeen. She's got to go to Enterprise for
+help. Two weeks. Even a redbreast couldn't last two weeks in the bush.
+And by that time we'll be----"
+
+"Easy!" said Imbrie warningly.
+
+"We'll be out of reach," she said, laughing.
+
+"All right, it's a go," said Imbrie. "We'll leave him just as he is.
+Pack up now."
+
+Stonor glanced anxiously at Clare. Her face was deathly pale, but she
+kept her head up.
+
+"Do you think I'm going to go and leave him here?" she said firmly to
+Imbrie.
+
+"Don't see how you're going to help yourself," said he, without meeting
+her eyes.
+
+"If you put me in the dug-out I'll overturn it," she said promptly.
+
+Imbrie was taken aback. "I'll tie you up," he muttered, scowling.
+
+"You cannot tie me so tight that I can't overturn that cranky boat."
+
+"You'll be the first to drown."
+
+She smiled. "Do you think I value the life you offer me?" She held out
+her hands to him. "Tie me and see."
+
+There could be no mistaking the firmness of her resolve. Imbrie
+hesitated and weakened. He turned to the breed woman questioningly.
+
+She said in the Indian tongue: "What do you look at me for? I've told
+you before that you're risking both our necks by taking her. The world
+is full of skinny little pale-faced women, but you've only got one neck.
+Better leave her with the man."
+
+Imbrie shook his head slowly.
+
+The woman shrugged. "Well, if you got to have her, fix it to suit
+yourself." She ostentatiously went on with the packing.
+
+Imbrie looked sidewise at Clare with a kind of hungry pain in his sullen
+eyes. "I won't leave her," he muttered. "I'll take them both."
+
+The woman flung up her hands in a passionate gesture. "Foolishness!" she
+cried.
+
+A new idea seemed to occur to Imbrie; he said in English: "I'll take the
+redbreast for my servant. Upstream work is no cinch. I'll make him track
+us. It'll be a novelty to have a redbreast for a servant."
+
+Clare glanced anxiously at Stonor as if expecting an outbreak.
+
+Imbrie asked with intolerable insolence: "Will you be my servant,
+Redbreast?"
+
+Clare's hands clenched, and she scowled at Imbrie like a little
+fire-eater.
+
+Stonor answered calmly: "If I have to be."
+
+Clare's eyes darted to him full of relief and gratitude; she had not
+expected so great a sacrifice. The brave lip trembled.
+
+Imbrie laughed. "Good!" he cried. "Redbreasts don't relish starving in
+the bush any better than ordinary men!"
+
+The breed woman, on the verge of an angry outburst, checked herself, and
+merely shrugged again. She said quietly in her own tongue: "He thinks
+he's going to escape."
+
+"Sure he does!" answered Imbrie, "and I'm the man who will prevent him.
+I'll keep the weapons in my own hands."
+
+True to his word he collected all the weapons in the outfit; three guns,
+the revolver and three knives. He gave the breed woman her own gun and
+her ammunition-belt, which she strapped round her; he kept his gun, and
+the other two fire-arms he disabled by removing parts of the mechanism,
+which he put in his pocket. He stuck two knives in his belt, and gave
+the woman the third, which she slipped into its customary resting-place
+in the top of her moccasin. Imbrie ordered Stonor to get up and strike
+Clare's tent.
+
+"He must be fed," said Clare quickly.
+
+"Sure, I don't mind feeding him as long as he's going to earn it," said
+Imbrie.
+
+Clare hastened to carry Stonor her untasted plate, but Imbrie
+intercepted her. "No more whispering," he said, scowling. "Eat your own
+breakfast. The woman will feed him."
+
+In half an hour they were on their way back up the river. They allowed
+Stonor to rest and recuperate in the dug-out until they came to the
+first rapid. Later, the policeman bent to the tracking-line with a good
+will. This was better luck than he had hoped for. His principal fear was
+that he might not be able to dissemble sufficiently to keep their
+suspicions lulled. He knew, of course, that if they should guess of what
+he was thinking his life would not be worth a copper penny. His
+intuition told him that even though he was a prisoner, Clare was safe
+from Imbrie while he was present, and he had determined to submit
+cheerfully to anything in order to keep alive. He only needed three or
+four more days!
+
+So, with a loop of the tracking-line over his shoulder, he plodded
+through the ooze of the shore, and over the stones; waded out round
+reefs, and plunged headlong through overhanging willows. Imbrie walked
+behind him with his gun over his arm. Clare lay on the baggage in the
+dug-out wistfully watching Stonor's back, and the breed woman steered.
+In the more sluggish reaches of the river, the men went aboard and
+paddled.
+
+When they spelled in mid-morning Imbrie and the woman became involved in
+a discussion of which Stonor understood almost every word. They had
+finished eating, and all four were sitting in a row on a beach with
+great stones sticking up through the sand. Clare was at one end, Stonor
+at the other. They were giving Stonor a rest as they might have rested a
+horse before putting him in harness again.
+
+The woman said impatiently: "How long are you going to keep up this
+foolishness?"
+
+"What foolishness?" Imbrie said sullenly.
+
+"Letting this man live. He's your enemy and mine. He's not going to
+forget that I shot at him twice. He's got some scheme in his head right
+now. He's much too willing to work."
+
+"That's just women's talk. I know what I'm doing. I've got him just
+right because he's scared of losing the girl."
+
+"All right. Many times you ask me what to do. Sometimes you don't do
+what I say, and then you're sorry afterwards. I tell you this is
+foolishness. You want the white-face girl and you let the man live to
+please her! What sense is there in that? She won't take you as long as
+he lives."
+
+"If I kill him she'll kill herself."
+
+"Wah! That's just a threat. She'll hold it over you as long as he lives.
+When he's dead she'll have to make the best of it. You'll have to kill
+him in the end. Why not do it now?"
+
+"I know what I'm doing," repeated Imbrie stubbornly. "I'm the master
+now. Women turn naturally to the master. In a few days I'll put this
+white man so low she'll despise him."
+
+The woman laughed. "You don't know much about women. The worse you treat
+him the crazier she'll be about him. And if she gets a knife, look out!"
+
+"She won't get a knife. And if my way doesn't work I can always kill
+him. He's useful. We're getting up-stream faster than we would without
+him."
+
+"He's too willing to go up the river, I think."
+
+"There's no help for him up there, is there?"
+
+"I don't know. You'd better do what I say."
+
+"Oh, shut up. Go and pack the grub. We'll start soon."
+
+The woman went to obey with her customary shrug.
+
+Stonor had much food for thought in this conversation. He marked with
+high satisfaction that the way the woman spoke did not for a moment
+suggest that Imbrie had any rights over Clare, nor that he had ever
+possessed her in the past. Listen as he might, he could gain no clue to
+the relationship between the two speakers. He hoped they might betray
+themselves further later on. Meanwhile the situation was hazardous in
+the extreme. There was no doubt the woman would soon wear Imbrie down.
+If he, Stonor, could only communicate with Clare it would help.
+
+Imbrie turned to Clare with what he meant for an ingratiating smile. "Is
+your memory coming back at all?" he asked.
+
+In itself there was nothing offensive in the question, and Clare had the
+wit to see that nothing was to be gained by unnecessarily snubbing the
+man. "No," she said simply.
+
+"But you're all right in every other way. There's nothing the matter
+with you?"
+
+She let it go at that.
+
+"You don't remember the days when I was courting you?"
+
+"No," she said with an idle air, "where was that?"
+
+He saw the trap. "I'll tell you some other time.--Redbreast has long
+ears."
+
+While Imbrie's attention was occupied by Clare a possible way of sending
+her a message occurred to Stonor. The woman was busy at some paces'
+distance. Stonor was sitting on a flat stone with his feet in the sand.
+Carelessly picking up a stick, he commenced to make letters in the sand.
+Clare, whose eyes never left him for long, instantly became aware of
+what he was doing; but so well did she cover her glances that Imbrie
+took no alarm.
+
+Stonor, printing a word at a time, and instantly rubbing it out with his
+foot, wrote: "Make out to scorn me."
+
+Meanwhile Imbrie was making agreeable conversation and Clare was leading
+him on sufficiently to keep him interested. Small as his success was, he
+was charmed with it. Finally he rose regretfully.
+
+"Time to go," he said. "Go get in your harness, Stonor."
+
+The trooper arose and slouched to the tracking-line with a hang-dog air.
+Clare's eyes followed him in well-assumed indignation at his supineness.
+
+"He'll make a good pack-horse yet," said Imbrie with a laugh.
+
+"So it seems," she said bitterly.
+
+They started. Imbrie, much encouraged by this little passage, continued
+to bait Stonor at intervals during the afternoon. The policeman, fearful
+of appearing to submit too suddenly, sometimes rebelled, but always
+sullenly gave in when Imbrie raised his gun. Stonor saw that, so far as
+the man was concerned, he need have little fear of overdoing his part.
+Imbrie in his vanity was quite ready to believe that Clare was turning
+from Stonor to him. On the other hand, the breed woman was not at all
+deceived. Her lip curled scornfully at all this by-play.
+
+Clare's glance at Stonor, keeping up what she had begun, progressed from
+surprise through indignation to open scorn. Meanwhile in the same ratio
+she held herself less and less aloof from Imbrie. She, too, was careful
+not to overdo it. She made it clear to Imbrie that it would be a good
+long time yet before he could expect any positive favours from her. She
+did it so well that Stonor, though he had himself told her to act in
+that manner, was tormented by the sight. After all, he was human.
+
+Once and once only during the day did Stonor's and Clare's glances meet
+unobserved by the others. It happened as the trooper was embarking in
+the dug-out preparatory to paddling up a smooth reach. Imbrie and the
+woman were both behind Clare, and she gave Stonor a deep look imploring
+his forgiveness for the wrong she seemed to do him. It heartened him
+amazingly. Bending low as he laid the coiled rope in the bow, his lips
+merely shaped the words:
+
+"Keep it up!"
+
+So long and so hard did they work that day that they were able to camp
+for the night only a few miles short of the highest point they had yet
+reached on the river. The camping-place was a pleasant opening up on top
+of the bank, carpeted with pine-needles. The murmur of the pines
+reminded Clare and Stonor of nights on the lower river--nights both
+happy and terrible, which now seemed years past.
+
+While supper was preparing Clare appeared out of her tent with some long
+strips of cotton. She went unhesitatingly to where Stonor sat.
+
+Imbrie sprang up. "Keep away from him!" he snarled.
+
+Clare calmly sat down by Stonor. "I'm going to dress his wound," she
+said. "I'd do the same for a dog. I don't want to speak to him. You can
+sit beside me while I work."
+
+Imbrie sullenly submitted.
+
+After supper it appeared from Imbrie's evil grin that he was promising
+himself a bit of fun with the policeman. But this time he was taking no
+chances.
+
+"I'm tired of toting this gun around; tie his hands," he ordered the
+woman.
+
+The night was chilly and they had a good fire on the edge of the bank.
+It lighted them weirdly as they sat in a semi-circle about it, the four
+strangely-assorted figures backed by the brown trunks of the pines, and
+roofed by the high branches. Stonor safely tied up, Imbrie put down his
+gun and lighted his pipe. He studied the policeman maliciously. He was
+not quite satisfied; even in Stonor's submission he felt a spirit that
+he had not yet broken.
+
+"You policemen think pretty well of yourselves, don't you?" he said.
+
+Stonor, clearly perceiving the man's intention, was nevertheless
+undisturbed. This vermin was beneath him. His difficulty was to curb the
+sly desire to answer back. Imbrie gave him such priceless openings. But
+the part he had imposed on himself required that he seemed to be cowed
+by the man's crude attempts at wit. A seeming sullen silence was his
+only safe line. It required no little self-control.
+
+Imbrie went on: "The government sets you fellows up as a kind of bogey.
+For years they've been teaching the natives that a red-coat is a kind of
+sacred monkey that all must bow down to. And you forget you're only a
+man like the rest of us. When you meet a man who isn't scared off by all
+this hocus-pocus it comes pretty hard on you. You have to sing small,
+don't you, Redbreast?"
+
+Silence from Stonor.
+
+"I say you have to sing small, Redbreast."
+
+"Just as you like."
+
+"I've heard ugly tales about the police," Imbrie went on. "It seems
+they're not above turning a bit of profit out of their jobs when it's
+safe. Is that so, Stonor?"
+
+"I hear you say it."
+
+"You yourself only took me up in the first place because you thought
+there was a bit of a bribe in it, or a jug of whisky maybe. You thought
+I was a whisky-runner, but you couldn't prove it. I guess you're sorry
+now that you ever fooled with me, aren't you, Redbreast?"
+
+Stonor said nothing.
+
+"Answer me when I speak to you. Aren't you sorry now that you interfered
+with me?"
+
+This was a hard one. A vein stood out on Stonor's forehead. He thought:
+"I wouldn't say it for myself, but for her----!" Aloud he muttered:
+"Yes!"
+
+Imbrie roared with laughter. "I'm putting the police in their place!" he
+cried. "I'm teaching them manners! I'll have him eating out of my hand
+before I'm through with him!"
+
+Clare, seeing the swollen vein, bled for Stonor, yet she gave him a
+glance of scorn, and the look she gave Imbrie caused him to rise as if
+moved by a spring, and cross to her.
+
+As he passed the breed woman he said in the Indian tongue: "Well, who
+was right, old woman?"
+
+He sat down beside Clare.
+
+The woman answered: "You fool! She's playing with you to save her lover.
+Any woman would do the same."
+
+"You lie!" said Imbrie, with a fatuous side-glance at Clare. "She's
+beginning to like me now."
+
+"Beginning to like you!" cried the woman scornfully. "Fool! Watch me!
+I'll show you how much she likes you!"
+
+Springing to her feet, and stooping over, she drew the knife from her
+moccasin. She turned on Stonor. "Redbreast!" she cried in English. "I'm
+sick of looking at your ugly face. Here's where I spoil it!"
+
+She raised the knife. Her eyes blazed. Stonor really thought his hour
+had come. He scrambled to his feet. Clare, with a scream, ran between
+them, and flung her arms around Stonor's neck.
+
+"You beast!" she cried over her shoulder to the woman. "A bound man!
+You'll have to strike him through me!"
+
+The woman threw back her head and uttered a great, coarse laugh. She
+coolly returned the knife to her moccasin. "You see how much she likes
+you," she said to Imbrie.
+
+Clare, seeing how she had been tricked, unwound her arms from Stonor's
+neck, and covered her face. It seemed too cruel that all their pains the
+livelong day should go for nothing in a moment. Imbrie was scowling at
+them hatefully.
+
+"Don't distress yourself," whispered Stonor. "It couldn't be helped. We
+gained a whole day by it anyway. I'll think of something else for
+to-morrow."
+
+"Keep clear of him!" cried Imbrie. "Go to your tent!"
+
+"I won't!" Clare said.
+
+"Better go!" whispered Stonor. "I am safe for the present."
+
+She went slowly to her tent and disappeared.
+
+Stonor sat down again. Across the fire Imbrie scowled and pulled at his
+lip. The breed woman, returning to her place, had the good sense to hold
+her tongue.
+
+After a long while Imbrie said sullenly in the Indian tongue: "Well,
+you've got your way. You can kill him to-morrow."
+
+Stonor was a brave man, but a chill struck to his breast.
+
+"I kill him?" said the woman. "Why have I got to do all the dirty work?"
+
+"What do you care? You've already tried twice."
+
+"Why don't you kill him yourself?"
+
+"I'm not afraid of him."
+
+"Maybe not. With his hands tied."
+
+Imbrie's fist clenched. "Do you want me to beat you?"
+
+The woman shrugged.
+
+"You know very well why I don't want to do it," Imbrie went on. "It's
+nothing to you if the girl hates you."
+
+"Oh, that's why, eh? You're scared she'd turn from bloody hands! She's
+made a fool of you, all right!"
+
+"Never mind that. You do it to-morrow."
+
+"Why not to-night?"
+
+"I won't have it done in her sight. To-morrow morning when we spell you
+make some excuse to take him into the bush. There you shoot him or stick
+a knife in his back. I don't care so long as you make a job of it. You
+come back alone and make a story of how he tried to run away, see? Then
+I'll beat you----"
+
+"Beat me!" she cried indignantly.
+
+"Fool! I won't hurt you. I'll just act rough to you for a while, till
+she gets better."
+
+"That girl has made me plenty trouble these last two years. I wish I'd
+never set eyes on her!"
+
+"Forget it! Tie his feet together so he can't wander and go to bed now!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mary Moosa's little mosquito-tent was still in Imbrie's outfit, but the
+woman preferred to roll up in her blanket by the fire like a man. Soon
+the two of them were sleeping as calmly as two children, and Stonor was
+left to his own thoughts.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a silent quartette that took to the river next day. Imbrie was
+sulky; it appeared that he no longer found any relish in gibing at
+Stonor. Clare was pale and downcast. After an hour or so they came to
+the rapids where Stonor had intercepted Imbrie and Clare, and thereafter
+the river was new to them. Stonor gathered from their talk that the
+river was new, too, to Imbrie and the woman, but that they had received
+information as to its course from Kakisa sources.
+
+For many miles after that the current ran smooth and slow, and they
+paddled the dug-out; Stonor in the bow, Imbrie guarding him with the
+gun, Clare behind Imbrie, and the breed woman with the stern-paddle. All
+with their backs to each other and all silent. About ten o'clock they
+came to the mouth of a little creek coming in at the left, and here
+Imbrie indicated they would spell.
+
+"So this is the spot designed for my murder," thought Stonor, looking
+over the ground with a natural interest.
+
+The little brook was deep and sluggish; its surface was powdered with
+tiny lilies and, at its edges, long grass trailed in the water. A clean,
+grassy bank sloped up gradually. Further back were white-stemmed
+aspen-trees gradually thickening into the forest proper.
+
+"Ideal place for a picnic," thought Stonor grimly. As they went ashore
+he perceived that the breed woman was somewhat agitated. She continually
+wiped her forehead on her sleeve. This was somehow more reassuring than
+her usual inhuman stolidity. Imbrie clearly was anxious, too, but not
+about Stonor or what was going to happen to him. His eyes continually
+sought Clare's face.
+
+The breed woman glanced inquiringly at Imbrie. He said in the Indian
+tongue: "We'll eat first."
+
+"So I have an hour's respite," thought Stonor.
+
+None of them displayed much appetite. Stonor forced himself to eat.
+Imbrie glanced at him oddly from time to time. "He's sorry to see good
+food wasted," thought the trooper. "Well, it won't be, if I can help
+it!"
+
+When they had finished the woman said in English with a very careless
+air: "I'm going to see if I can get some fresh meat."
+
+"She means me," thought Stonor.
+
+She got her gun and departed. Stonor was aware likewise of the knife
+sticking out of the top of her moccasin. Both Imbrie and the woman had a
+self-conscious air. A child could have seen that something was afoot.
+The woman walked off through the grass and was presently lost among the
+trees.
+
+Imbrie commanded Stonor to wash the dishes.
+
+Stonor reflected that since they meant to kill him anyhow if they could,
+there was nothing to be gained by putting up with further indignities.
+
+"Wash them yourself," he said coolly.
+
+Imbrie shrugged, but said no more.
+
+Pretty soon they heard a shot at no great distance.
+
+Stonor thought: "Now she'll come back and say she's got a bear or a
+moose, and they'll order me to go back with her and bring in the meat.
+Shall I go, or shall I refuse to go? If I refuse they're almost sure to
+suspect that I understand their lingo; but if I go I may be able to
+disarm her. I'll go."
+
+Presently they saw her returning. "I've got a moose," she said stolidly.
+
+Stonor smiled a grim inward smile. It was too simple to ask him to
+believe that she had walked into the bush and brought down a moose
+within five minutes with one shot. He knew very well that if there was a
+feast in prospect her face would be wreathed in smiles. He was careful
+to betray nothing in his own face.
+
+Imbrie was a better actor. "Good work!" he cried. "Now we'll have
+something fit to eat."
+
+She said: "I want help to bring in the meat."
+
+"Stonor, go help her," said Imbrie carelessly.
+
+The trooper got up with an indifferent air.
+
+"Martin, don't go!" Clare said involuntarily.
+
+"I'm not afraid of her," Stonor said.
+
+The woman forced him to walk in advance of her across the grass. The
+thought of her behind him with the gun ready made Stonor's skin prickle
+uncomfortably, but he reflected that she would certainly not shoot until
+they were hidden in the bush.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When they reached the edge of the bush he stopped and looked at her.
+"Which way?" he asked, with an innocent air.
+
+"You can follow the tracks, can't you?" said she.
+
+He saw that she was pale and perspiring freely. She moistened her lips
+before she spoke.
+
+Half a dozen paces further on he stopped again.
+
+"Go on!" she said harshly.
+
+"Got to tie my moccasin," he said, dropping on one knee and turning half
+round, so that he could keep an eye on her. She gave a swift glance over
+her shoulder. They were not yet fully out of sight of the others.
+
+"Your moccasin is not untied," she said suddenly.
+
+At the same moment Stonor, still crouching, sprang at her, taking care
+to keep under the gun. Grasping her knees, he flung her to the ground.
+He got the gun, but before he could raise it, she sprang at him from all
+fours like a cat, and clung to him with a passionate fury no man could
+have been capable of. Stonor was unable to shake her off without
+dropping the gun. Meanwhile she screamed for aid.
+
+Both Imbrie and Clare came running. Imbrie, circling round the
+struggling pair, clubbed his gun and brought it down on Stonor's head.
+The trooper went to earth. He did not altogether lose consciousness. The
+woman, maddened, recovered her gun, and was for dispatching him on the
+spot, but Imbrie, thinking of Clare, prevented her.
+
+Stonor was soon able to rise, and to make his way back, albeit somewhat
+groggily, to the creek. Clare wished to support him, but he stopped her
+with a look.
+
+When they got back to their camp Imbrie demanded with seeming
+indignation: "What was the matter with you? What did you expect to gain
+by jumping on her?"
+
+"What did she take me into the bush for?" countered Stonor. "To put a
+bullet through me?"
+
+Imbrie made a great parade of surprise. "What makes you think that?"
+
+"She's tried twice already, hasn't she? I saw it in her eye. She saw it,
+too----" pointing to Clare. "You heard her warn me. She never shot a
+moose. That was too simple a trick."
+
+"I did shoot a moose," said the woman sullenly.
+
+"Then why don't you bring some of it in and let's see it. You have your
+knife to cut off as much as we can carry."
+
+She turned away with a discomposed face.
+
+"Oh, well, if you won't take the trouble to bring in the meat we'll go
+without it," said Imbrie quickly. Stonor laughed.
+
+As they were making ready to start Stonor heard Imbrie say bitterly to
+the woman, in their own tongue: "You made a pretty mess of that!"
+
+"Well, do it yourself, then," she snarled back.
+
+"Very well, I will. When I see a good chance."
+
+"This is only the 25th," thought Stonor. "By hook or by crook I must
+contrive to keep alive a couple of days longer."
+
+Above this camping-place the character of the river changed again. The
+banks became steep and stony, and the rapids succeeded each other with
+only a few hundred yards of smooth water between. Stonor became a
+fixture in the tracking-line. He worked with a right good will, hoping
+to make himself so useful that they would not feel inclined to get rid
+of him. It was a slim chance, but the best that offered at the moment.
+Moreover, every mile that he put behind him brought him so much nearer
+succour.
+
+That night in camp he had the satisfaction of hearing Imbrie say in
+answer to a question from the woman:
+
+"No, not to-night. All day he's been working like a slave to try and get
+on the good side of me. Well, let him work. I've no mind to break my
+back while I have him to work for me. According to the Kakisas we'll
+have rapids now for a long way up. Let him pull us."
+
+So Stonor could allow himself to sleep with an easy mind for that night,
+anyway.
+
+The next two days were without special incident. Stonor lived from
+moment to moment, his fate hanging on Imbrie's savage and irresponsible
+impulses. Fortunately for him, he was still able to inform himself from
+the talk of the two. Each day they broke camp, tracked up-stream,
+tracked and poled up the rapids, spelled and tracked again. In the
+rapids it was the breed woman who had to help Stonor. Imbrie would stand
+by smoking, with his gun over his arm. Stonor wondered at the woman's
+patience.
+
+At the end of the second day they found another soft sandy beach to camp
+on. Stonor was so weary he could scarcely remain awake long enough to
+eat. They all turned in immediately afterwards. Latterly Imbrie had been
+forcing Stonor to lie close to him at night, and the end of the line
+that bound Stonor's wrists was tied around Imbrie's arm. The breed woman
+lay on the other side of the fire, and Clare's tent was pitched beyond
+her.
+
+Stonor was awakened by a soft touch on his cheek. Having his nerves
+under good control, he gave no start. Opening his eyes, he saw Clare's
+face smiling adorably, not a foot from his own. At first he thought he
+was dreaming, and lay scarcely daring to breathe, for fear of
+dissipating the charming phantom.
+
+But the phantom spoke: "Martin, you looked so tired to-night it made me
+cry. I could not sleep. I had to come and speak to you. Did I do wrong?"
+
+He feasted his tired eyes on her. How could he blame her? "Dangerous,"
+he whispered. "These breeds sleep like cats."
+
+"What's the difference? It's as bad as it can be already."
+
+He shook his head. "They have not ill-treated you."
+
+"I wouldn't mind if they did. It is terrible to see you work so hard,
+while I do nothing. Why do you work so hard for them?"
+
+"I have hope of meeting help up the river."
+
+She smiled incredulously. Stonor, seeing her resigned to the worst, said
+no more about his hopes. After all they might fail, and it would be
+better not to raise her hopes only to dash them.
+
+"Better go," he urged. "Every little while through the night one or the
+other of these breeds wakes, sits up, looks around, and goes back to
+sleep again."
+
+"Are you glad I came, Martin?"
+
+"Very glad. Go back to your tent, and we'll talk in fancy until we fall
+asleep again."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor was awakened the next time by a loud, jeering laugh. It was full
+daylight. The breed woman was standing at his feet, pointing mockingly
+to the tell-tale print of Clare's little body in the sand beside him. A
+blinding rage filled Stonor at the implication of that coarse laugh--but
+he was helpless. Imbrie started up, and Stonor attempted to roll over on
+the depression--but Imbrie saw it, saw also the little tracks leading
+around behind the sleepers to Clare's tent.
+
+No sound escaped from Imbrie, but his smooth face turned hideous with
+rage; the lips everted over the clenched teeth, the ruddy skin livid and
+blotchy. He quickly untied the bond between him and Stonor. The woman,
+with a wicked smile, drew the knife out of her moccasin, and offered it
+to him. He eagerly snatched it up. Stonor's eyes were fixed
+unflinchingly on his face. He thought: "It has come!"
+
+But at that moment Clare came out of her tent. Imbrie hid the knife and
+turned away. As he passed the breed woman Stonor heard him mutter:
+
+"I'll fix him to-night!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That day as he trod the shore, bent under the tracking-line, Stonor had
+plenty to occupy his mind. Over and over he made his calculations of
+time and distance:
+
+"This is the twenty-seventh. It was the fifteenth when I sent Tole
+Grampierre back to Enterprise. If he rode hard he'd get there about noon
+on the seventeenth. The steamboat isn't due to start up-stream until
+the twentieth, but Gaviller would surely let her go at once when he got
+my message. She'd only need to get wood aboard and steam up. She could
+steam night and day too, at this stage of water; she's done it
+before--that is, if they had anybody to relieve Mathews at the engine.
+There are plenty of pilots. Surely Gaviller would order her to steam
+night and day when he read my letter! Even suppose they didn't get away
+until the morning of the eighteenth: that would bring them to the
+Crossing by the twenty-second.
+
+"Lambert, I know, would not lose an hour in setting out over the
+prairie--just long enough to get horses together and swim them across. I
+can depend on him. Nobody knows how far it is overland from the Crossing
+to the Swan River. Nobody's been that way. But the chances are it's
+prairie land, and easy going. Say the rivers are about the same distance
+apart up there, Lambert ought to reach the Swan on the twenty-fifth, or
+at the latest the twenty-sixth. That's only yesterday. But we must have
+made two hundred or two hundred and fifty miles up-stream. The Swan
+certainly makes a straighter course than the Spirit. It must be less
+than a hundred miles from here to the spot where Lambert would hit this
+stream. He could make seventy-five miles or more a day down-stream. He
+would work. If everything has gone well I might meet him to-day.
+
+"But things never go just the way you want them to. I must not count on
+it. Gaviller may have delayed. He's so careful of his precious
+steamboat. Or she may have run on a bar. Or Lambert may have met
+unexpected difficulties. I must know what I'm going to do. Once my hands
+are tied to-night my goose is cooked. Shall I resist the woman when she
+tries to tie my hands? But Imbrie always stands beside her with the gun;
+that would simply mean being shot down before Clare's eyes. Shall I let
+them bind me and take what comes?--No! I must put up a fight somehow!
+Suppose I make a break for it as soon as we land? If there happens to be
+cover I may get away with it. Better be shot on the wing than sitting
+down with my hands tied. And if I got clean away, Clare would know there
+was still a chance. I'll make a break for it!"
+
+He looked at the sky, the shining river and the shapely trees. "This may
+be my last day on the old ball! Good old world too! You don't think what
+it means until the time comes to say ta-ta to it all; sunny mornings,
+and starry nights, with the double trail of the Milky Way moseying
+across the sky. I've scarcely tasted life yet--mustn't think of that!
+Twenty-seven years old, and nothing done! If I could feel that I had
+left something solid behind me it would be easier to go."
+
+Pictures of his boyhood in the old Canadian city presented themselves
+unasked; the maple-foliage, incredibly dense and verdant, the shabby,
+comfortable houses behind the trees, and the homely, happy-go-lucky
+people who lived in the houses and sprayed their lawns on summer
+evenings; friendly people, like people everywhere prone to laughter and
+averse to thought. "People are so foolish and likeable, it's amazing!"
+thought Stonor, visualizing his kind for the first.
+
+The sights and sounds and smells of the old town came thronging back;
+the school-bell with its flat clangour, exactly like no other bell on
+earth--it rang until five minutes before the hour, stopping with a
+muttering complaint, and you ran the rest of the way. There was the
+Dominion Hotel, with a tar pavement in front that became semi-liquid on
+hot days; no resident of that town ever forgot the pungent smell
+compounded of tar, stale beer, sawdust, and cabbage that greeted you in
+passing. And the candy-store was next door; the butterscotch they sold
+there!
+
+How he used to get up early on summer mornings and, with his faithful
+mongrel Jack, with the ridiculous curly tail, walk and run a mile to the
+railway-station to see the Transcontinental stop and pass on. How the
+sun shone down the empty streets before any one was up! Strange how his
+whole life seemed to be coloured by the newly-risen sun! And the long
+train with the mysterious, luxurious sleeping-cars, an occasional
+tousled head at the window; lucky head, bound on a long journey!
+
+"Well, I've journeyed some myself since then," thought Stonor, "and I
+have a longer journey before me!"
+
+They spelled at ten o'clock, and again at three. "The last lap!" thought
+Stonor, as they took to the river after the second stop. All depended on
+the spot Imbrie should choose for their next camp. Stonor studied the
+nature of the ground anxiously. The banks continued to rise steep and
+high almost from the water's edge. These slopes for the most part were
+wooded, but a wood on a steep stony slope does not offer good cover.
+
+"Small chance of scrambling over the top in such a place without
+stopping a bullet," thought Stonor. "If we come to a more favourable
+spot should I suggest camping? No! for Imbrie would be sure to keep on
+out of pure obstinacy. I might have a chance if I zig-zagged up the
+hill. The worst part will be running away from Clare. Suppose she cries
+out or tries to follow. If I could warn her!"
+
+But Imbrie was taking very good care that no communications passed
+between the two to-day.
+
+They came to a place where a limestone ridge made a rapid wilder than
+any they had passed on the upper river, almost a cataract. Much time was
+consumed in dragging the dug-out over the shelves of rock alongside. The
+ridge made a sort of dam in the river; and above there was a long
+reach, smooth and sluggish. Imbrie ordered Stonor aboard to paddle, and
+the trooper was not sorry for the change of exercise.
+
+The sun was dropping low now, and Stonor little by little gave up hope
+of meeting help that day. In the course of the smooth reach they came
+upon an island, quaintly shaped like a woman's hat, with a stony beach
+all round for a brim, a high green crown, and a clump of pines for an
+aigrette. In its greatest diameter it was less than a hundred feet.
+
+Coming abreast of the island, Imbrie, without saying anything in advance
+of his intention, steered the dug-out so that she grounded on the beach.
+The others looked round at him in surprise.
+
+"We'll camp here," he said curtly.
+
+Stonor's heart sank. An island! "It's early yet," he said, with a
+careless air.
+
+"The dug-out's leaking," said Imbrie. "I want to fix her before dark."
+
+"There's no gum on the island."
+
+"I have it with me."
+
+Imbrie said this with a meaning grin, and Stonor could not be sure but
+that the man suspected his design of escaping. There was nothing for it
+but to submit for the moment. If they attempted to bind him he would put
+up the best fight he could. If they left him free until dark he might
+still escape by swimming.
+
+They landed. The breed woman, as a matter of course, prepared to do all
+the work, while Imbrie sat down with his pipe and his gun. He ordered
+Stonor to sit near. The policeman obeyed, keeping himself on the _qui
+vive_ for the first hostile move. Clare, merely to be doing something,
+put up her own little tent. The breed woman started preparing supper,
+and then, taking everything out of the dug-out, pulled it up on the
+stones, and turning it over applied the gum to the little crack that had
+opened in the bottom.
+
+They supped as usual, Stonor being guarded by the woman while Imbrie
+ate. Stonor and Clare were kept at a little distance from each other.
+There was nothing that they cared to say to each other within hearing of
+their jailors. Soon afterwards Clare went to her tent. Stonor watched
+her disappear with a gripping pain at his heart, wondering if he would
+ever see her again. "She might have looked her good-night," he thought
+resentfully, even while better sense told him she had refrained from
+looking at him only because such indications of an understanding always
+infuriated Imbrie.
+
+The dusk was beginning to gather. Imbrie waited a little while, then
+said carelessly:
+
+"Tie him up now."
+
+The woman went to get the piece of line she used for the purpose. Stonor
+got warily to his feet.
+
+"What do you want to tie me up for?" he said, seeking to gain time. "I'm
+helpless without weapons. You might let me have one night's comfortable
+sleep. I work hard enough for it."
+
+Imbrie's suspicions were instantly aroused by this changed attitude of
+Stonor's, who had always before indifferently submitted. He raised the
+gun threateningly. "Shut up!" he said. "Hold your hands behind you."
+
+The woman was approaching with the line. Stonor moved so as to bring
+himself in a line between Imbrie and the woman. Out of the tail of his
+eye he saw Clare at the door of her tent, anxiously watching. He counted
+on the fact that Imbrie would not shoot while she was looking on without
+strong provocation. They were all down on the stony beach. Stonor kept
+edging closer to the water.
+
+Stonor still sought to parley. "What are you afraid of? You're both
+armed. What could I do? And you sleep like cats. I couldn't move hand or
+foot without waking you. I can't work all day, and sleep without being
+able to stretch myself."
+
+While he talked he manoeuvred to keep himself between Imbrie and the
+woman. Imbrie, to avoid the danger of hitting her, was obliged to keep
+circling round Stonor. Finally Stonor got him between him and the water.
+This was the moment he was waiting for. His muscles were braced like
+steel springs. Plunging at Imbrie, he got under the gun-barrel and bore
+the man back into the river. The gun was discharged harmlessly into the
+air. The beach sloped away sharply, and the force of his rush carried
+them both into three feet of water. They went under. Imbrie dropped his
+gun, and clung to Stonor with the desperate, instinctive grip of the
+non-swimmer. Like a ray of light the thought flashed through Stonor's
+brain: "I have him on equal terms now!"
+
+As they went under he was aware of the woman rushing into the water
+after him with the knife raised. He twisted his body so that Imbrie came
+uppermost and she was unable to strike. Stonor saw Clare running to the
+water's edge.
+
+"Get her gun!" he cried.
+
+Clare swerved to where it stood leaning against the overturned dug-out.
+The woman turned back, but Clare secured the gun before she was out of
+the water, and dashed into the thick bushes with it. Meanwhile Stonor
+dragged the struggling Imbrie into deeper water. They lost their footing
+and went under again. The woman, after a pause of agonized indecision,
+ran to the dug-out, and, righting it, pushed it into the water.
+
+Stonor, striking out as he could, carried his burden out beyond a man's
+depth. The current carried them slowly down. They were as much under the
+water as on top, but Stonor cannily held his breath, while Imbrie
+struggled insanely. Stonor, with his knee against the other's chest,
+broke his strangle-hold, and got him turned over on his back. Imbrie's
+struggles began to weaken.
+
+Meanwhile the dug-out was bearing down on them. Stonor waited until it
+came abreast and the woman swung her paddle to strike. Then letting go
+of Imbrie, he sank, and swimming under water, rose to the surface some
+yards distant. He saw that the woman had Imbrie by the hair. In this
+position it was impossible for her to wield her paddle, and the current
+was carrying her down. Stonor turned about and swam blithely back to the
+island.
+
+Clare, still carrying the gun, came out of the bushes to meet him. They
+clasped hands.
+
+"I knew there was only one bullet," she said. "I was afraid to fire at
+the woman for fear of missing her."
+
+"You did right," he said.
+
+Stonor found the gun that Imbrie had dropped in the water. From the
+beach they watched to see what the breed woman would do.
+
+"When she gets near the rapids she'll either have to let go Imbrie or be
+carried over," Stonor said grimly.
+
+But the woman proved to be not without her resources. Still with one
+hand clutched in Imbrie's hair, she contrived to wriggle out of the
+upper part of her dress. Out of this she made a sling, passing it under
+the unconscious man's arms, and tying it to the thwart of the dug-out.
+She then paddled ashore and dragged the man out on the beach. There they
+saw her stand looking at him helplessly. Save for the dug-out she was
+absolutely empty-handed, without so much as a match to start a fire
+with.
+
+Presently she loaded the inert body in the dug-out, and, getting in
+herself, came paddling back towards the island. Stonor grimly awaited
+her, with the gun over his arm. The dusk was thickening, and Clare built
+up the fire.
+
+When she came near, Stonor said, raising the gun: "Come no closer till I
+give you leave."
+
+She raised her hands. "I give up," she said apathetically. "I've got to
+have fire for him, blankets. Maybe he is dead."
+
+"He's only half-drowned," said Stonor. "I can bring him to if you do
+what I tell you."
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Throw your ammunition-belt ashore, then your knife, and the two knives
+that Imbrie carries in his belt."
+
+She obeyed. Stonor gratefully buckled on the belt. She landed, and
+permitted her hands to be bound. Stonor then pulled the dug-out out on
+the stones, and turning it over rolled Imbrie on the bottom of it until
+he got most of the water out of him. Then, laying him on his back, after
+half an hour's unremitting work, he succeeded in inducing respiration. A
+little colour returned to Imbrie's face, and in the end he opened his
+eyes and looked stupidly around him. At these signs of returning
+animation the enigma of a woman suddenly lowered her head and broke into
+a dry hard sobbing.
+
+So intent were they upon the matter in hand they never thought of
+looking out on the river. It was as dark now as it would be, and anyway
+the glow of the fire blinded them to what lay outside its radius.
+Suddenly out of the murk came with stunning effect a deep-throated hail:
+
+"Stonor, is that you?"
+
+The policeman straightened like a man who received an electric shock. A
+great light broke in his face.
+
+"Lambert! Thank God!" he cried.
+
+Two clumsy little pot-bellied collapsible boats grounded on the stones
+below their fire and, as it seemed to their confused senses, they were
+immediately surrounded by a whole crowd of friendly faces. Stonor was
+aware, not of one red coat, but of three, and two natives besides. The
+rubicund face of his commanding officer, Major Egerton, "Patch-pants"
+Egerton, the best-loved man in the North, swam before his eyes. Somehow
+or other he contrived to salute.
+
+"I have the honour to turn over two prisoners, sir. This man who claims
+to be Doctor Ernest Imbrie, and this woman, name unknown to me."
+
+"Good work, Sergeant!" Having returned his salute, the little Major
+unbent, and offered Stonor his hand.
+
+"This is a surprise, sir, to see you," said the latter.
+
+"I had just got to the Crossing on my rounds when your note came to
+Lambert. So I came right on with him." Major Egerton's glance took in
+Stonor's bandaged skull and dripping clothes, the woman's bound hands,
+and Imbrie just returning to consciousness. "I judge you've been having
+a strenuous time," he remarked drily.
+
+"Somewhat, sir."
+
+"You shall tell me all about it, when we've settled down a bit. We had
+already camped for the night, when we saw the reflection of your fire,
+and came down to investigate. Introduce me to the lady."
+
+The little Major bowed to Clare in his best style. His face betrayed no
+consciousness of the strangeness of the situation, in that while Dr.
+Imbrie was a prisoner, Mrs. Imbrie was obviously under Stonor's
+protection. He engaged her in conversation about the weather as if they
+had just met at a lawn fête. It was exactly what the shaken Clare
+needed.
+
+Meanwhile Stonor slipped aside to his friends. "Lambert!" he cried,
+gripping his brother-sergeant's hand, "God knows your ugly phiz is a
+beautiful sight to my eyes! I knew I could depend on you! I knew it!"
+
+Lambert silently clapped him on the back. He saw from Stonor's face what
+he must have been through.
+
+Beyond Lambert Stonor caught sight of a gleaming smile on a dark face.
+"Tole!" he cried. "They brought you! How good it is to find one's
+friends!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE HEARING
+
+
+They moved to a better camping-place on the mainland. Major Egerton
+could rough it as well as any youngster in the service, but as a matter
+of principle he always carried a folding bed, table, and chair in his
+outfit. These simple articles made a great impression on the natives.
+When the Major's tent was pitched, and the table and chair set up
+inside, the effect of a court of justice was immediately created, even
+in the remotest wilderness.
+
+Next morning they all gathered in his tent. The Major sat at the table
+with Coulter, his orderly and general factotum, sitting on a box at his
+left with pen and note-book before him. Stonor stood at the Major's
+right. The two prisoners stood facing the table, with Lambert keeping an
+eye on them. Clare sat in the place of honour on the Major's cot against
+the side of the tent. Tole and Ancose squatted on their heels just
+inside the door.
+
+"I'll start with the woman," said the Major. Addressing her directly, he
+said sternly: "It is my duty to tell you that anything you may say here
+can be used against you later, and it is therefore your privilege to
+refuse to answer. At the same time a refusal to answer naturally
+suggests the fear of incriminating yourself, so think well before you
+refuse. Do you understand me?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Ah, you speak good English. That simplifies matters. First, what is
+your name?"
+
+"Annie Alexander."
+
+"Married?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Age?"
+
+"Forty-four."
+
+"Hm! You don't look it. What is your relation to the other prisoner
+here?"
+
+"No relation, just a friend."
+
+"Ah? Where do you come from?"
+
+The woman hesitated.
+
+Imbrie murmured: "Winnipeg."
+
+"Be silent!" cried the Major. "Sergeant Lambert, take that man out, and
+keep him out of earshot until I call you."
+
+It was done.
+
+"How long have you been in this country?"
+
+"Since Spring--May."
+
+"How did you come in?"
+
+"By way of Caribou Lake and the Crossing."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"By what means did you travel?"
+
+"I got passage on a york boat up the rivers, and across Caribou Lake.
+From the lake a freighter took me on his load across the long portage to
+the Crossing."
+
+"Ancose," said the Major, "you watch the prisoner outside, and ask
+Sergeant Lambert to step here."
+
+Meanwhile he went on with his questions. "How did you travel from the
+Crossing?"
+
+"I built a little raft and floated down the Spirit River to Carcajou
+Point."
+
+Lambert came in.
+
+"Lambert," said the Major, "this woman claims to have come over the
+portage to the Crossing in May with a freighter and to have built a raft
+there and floated down the river. Can you verify her story?"
+
+"No, sir, never saw her before."
+
+"Is it possible for her to have done such a thing?"
+
+"Possible, sir," said Lambert cautiously, "but not likely. It's part of
+my business to keep track of all who come and go. There are not enough
+travellers to make that difficult. Such an extraordinary thing as a
+woman travelling alone on a raft would have been the talk of the
+country. If I might ask her a question, sir----?"
+
+The Major signed to him to do so.
+
+"What was the name of the freighter who brought you over the portage?"
+
+"I don't know his whole name. Men called him Jack."
+
+Lambert shrugged. "There's many a Jack, sir."
+
+"Of course. Let it go for the present." To the woman he said: "What was
+your object in making this long journey alone?"
+
+"Doctor Imbrie wrote to me to come and live with him. He had nobody to
+take care of his house and all that."
+
+"I see. What do you mean by saying he was your friend?" The Major asked
+this with an uneasy glance in Clare's direction.
+
+"Just my friend," answered the woman, with a hint of defiance. "I took
+care of him when he was little."
+
+"Ah, his nurse. When did you get the letter from him?"
+
+"In March."
+
+"Where was it sent from?"
+
+"Fort Enterprise."
+
+"Sergeant Stonor, can you testify as to that?"
+
+"I can testify that it is not true, sir. It was a matter of common
+knowledge at the post that Doctor Imbrie neither received nor sent any
+letters. We wondered at it. Furthermore, the only word received from him
+all winter was in January."
+
+The Major turned to the woman. "According to that you are telling an
+untruth about the letter," he said sternly. "Do you wish to change your
+statement?"
+
+She sullenly shook her head.
+
+The Major shrugged and went on. "Was Doctor Imbrie waiting for you at
+Carcajou Point?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why didn't you meet at Fort Enterprise, where there was a good trail to
+Swan River?"
+
+"He didn't feel like explaining things to the white men there. He likes
+to keep to himself."
+
+"Where did you go from Carcajou Point?"
+
+"We bought horses from the Beaver Indians and rode overland to Swan
+Lake."
+
+"Bought horses?" said the Major quickly. "How did Doctor Imbrie get to
+Carcajou in the first place?"
+
+She corrected herself. "I mean he bought extra horses for me, and for
+the outfit."
+
+"And you rode to Swan Lake on your way back to his place?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Did you go to his place?"
+
+"No, sir, I got sick at Swan Lake and he had to leave me."
+
+"But if you were sick you needed a doctor, didn't you?"
+
+"I wasn't very sick, I just couldn't travel, that was all."
+
+"But why did he have to leave you?"
+
+"He had business at his place."
+
+"Business? There was no one there but himself."
+
+The woman merely shrugged.
+
+Major Egerton waved his hand in Clare's direction. "Do you know this
+lady?"
+
+"Yes, sir. It's Doctor Imbrie's wife."
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"I saw them married."
+
+"Where was that?"
+
+"I won't answer that at present."
+
+The Major turned to Clare apologetically. "Please excuse me if I must
+ask a painful question or two."
+
+Clare nodded reassuringly.
+
+"Why had Doctor Imbrie left his wife?"
+
+The woman's eyes sparkled with resentment. "He didn't leave her. She
+left him. She----"
+
+"That will do!" ordered the Major.
+
+But the woman raised her voice. "She threw up the fact of his having red
+blood to him--though she knew it well enough when she married him. He
+was all cut up about it. That was why he came up here."
+
+The Major, slightly embarrassed, turned to Stonor. "Will you question
+her?" he asked testily. "You are better informed as to the whole
+circumstances."
+
+"If I might hear the man's story first, sir?"
+
+"Very well. Send for him. What is the charge against the woman?"
+
+"Shooting with intent to kill, sir."
+
+"Enter that, Coulter. Whom did she shoot at?"
+
+"At me, sir. On two occasions."
+
+"Ah! An officer in the performance of his duty. Amend the charge,
+Coulter. Please relate the circumstances."
+
+Stonor did so.
+
+"Have you anything to say in regard to that?" the Major asked the woman.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+By this time Imbrie was again facing the tribunal. At Stonor's request
+the woman was allowed to remain in the tent during his examination.
+After stating the usual formula as to his rights, the Major started
+questioning him.
+
+"Your name?"
+
+"Ernest Imbrie, M.D."
+
+"Age?"
+
+"Twenty-six."
+
+"Place of birth?"
+
+"Winnipeg."
+
+"Father's name?"
+
+"John Imbrie."
+
+"His occupation?"
+
+"Farmer."
+
+The Major raised his eyebrows. "In Winnipeg?"
+
+"He lived off the income of his farms."
+
+"Ah! Strange I never heard the name in Winnipeg. Do you wish to give any
+further information about your antecedents?"
+
+"Not at present, sir."
+
+"You have Indian blood in your veins?"
+
+"Yes, sir, my grandmother was an Indian. I never saw her."
+
+"How long have you been in this district?"
+
+"A year, sir."
+
+"How did you come here?"
+
+"I got employment with a crew of boatmen at Miwasa Landing. I travelled
+with them as far as Great Buffalo Lake. There I bought a canoe from the
+Indians and came up the Swan River to the Great Falls and built me a
+shack."
+
+"You were alone then?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How did this woman come to join you?"
+
+"I sent for her to keep my house for me."
+
+"How did you get word to her?"
+
+Imbrie blandly evaded the trap. "I sent a letter out privately to be
+passed along by the Indians--what they call moccasin telegraph."
+
+"Ah! Why did you choose that method?"
+
+"Because I wished to keep my affairs to myself. I had heard of the
+curiosity of the white men at Fort Enterprise concerning my movements,
+and I did not care to gratify it."
+
+"Very well. Now, when you started back with her, did she go home with
+you?"
+
+"No, sir. She was taken sick at Swan Lake, and I had to leave her
+there."
+
+"How did you come to leave her if she was sick?"
+
+"She was not very sick. Her leg swelled up and she couldn't travel, that
+was all."
+
+Stonor signed to the Major that he wished to ask a question, and the
+Major bade him go ahead.
+
+"Tell us exactly what was the matter with her, as a doctor, I mean."
+
+"You wouldn't understand if I did tell you."
+
+The Major rapped smartly on the table. "Impudence will do you no good,
+my man! Answer the Sergeant's question!"
+
+"I decline to do so."
+
+Stonor said: "I have established the point I wished to make, sir. He
+can't answer it."
+
+Major Egerton proceeded: "Well, why didn't you wait for her until she
+got well?"
+
+"I had to make a garden at home."
+
+"You travelled three hundred miles down the river and back again to make
+a garden!"
+
+"We have to eat through the winter."
+
+"Stonor, was there a garden started at Imbrie's place?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but it had been started weeks before. The potatoes were
+already several inches high."
+
+Imbrie said: "I planted the potatoes before I left."
+
+"Well, leave the garden for the present." The Major indicated Clare.
+"You know this lady?"
+
+"I should hope so."
+
+"Confine your answers to plain statements, please. Who is she?"
+
+"My wife."
+
+"Have you any proof of that?"
+
+"She says so. She ought to know."
+
+The Major addressed Clare. "Is it true that you have said you were his
+wife?"
+
+"I cannot tell you of my own knowledge, sir. Sergeant Stonor has told me
+that before I lost my memory I told him I was Ernest Imbrie's wife."
+
+The Major bowed and returned his attention to Imbrie. "When and where
+were you married?"
+
+"I decline to answer."
+
+The excellent Major, who was not noted for his patience with the
+evil-doer, turned an alarming colour, yet he still sought to reason with
+the man. "The answer to that question could not possibly injure you
+under any circumstances."
+
+"Just the same, I decline to answer. You said it was my right."
+
+With no little difficulty the Major still held himself in. "I am
+asking," he said, "for information which will enable me to return this
+lady to her friends until her memory is restored."
+
+"I decline to give it," said Imbrie hardily. His face expressed a
+pleased vanity in being able, as he thought, to wield the whip-hand over
+the red-coats.
+
+The little Major exploded. "You damned scoundrel!" he cried. "I'd like
+to wring your neck!"
+
+"Put that down, please," Imbrie said to the clerk with ineffable
+conceit.
+
+The Major put his hands behind his back and stamped up and down the four
+paces that comprised the length of his tent. "Stonor, I wonder--I wonder
+that you took the patience to bring him to last night!" he stammered.
+"Go on and question him if you want. I haven't the patience."
+
+"Very well, sir. Imbrie, when I was taking you and this lady back to
+Fort Enterprise, why did you carry her off?"
+
+"She was my wife. I wanted her. Anything strange in that?"
+
+"No. But when we came to you at your place, why did you run away from
+us?"
+
+"I hadn't had a good look at her then. I thought it best to keep out of
+the way."
+
+"Why weren't you willing to come to the post and let the whole thing be
+explained?"
+
+Imbrie's face suddenly turned dark with rage. He burst out, scarcely
+coherently: "I'll tell you that! And you can all digest it! A fat chance
+I'd have had among you! A fat chance I have now of getting a fair
+hearing! If she came all this way to find me, it's clear she wanted to
+make up, isn't it? Yet when she saw me, she turned away. She'd been
+travelling with you too long. You'd put your spell on her. You said
+she'd lost her memory. Bunk! Looks more like hypnotism to me. You wanted
+her for yourself. That's the whole explanation of this case. You've got
+nothing on me. You only want to railroad me so that the way will be
+clear for you with her. Why, when I was bound up they made love to each
+other before my very face. Isn't that true?"
+
+"I am not under examination just now," said Stonor coldly.
+
+"Answer me as a man, isn't it true?"
+
+"No, it's a damned lie!"
+
+"Well, if it had been me, I would!" cried the little Major.
+
+Sergeant Lambert concealed a large smile behind his large hand.
+
+Stonor, outwardly unmoved, said: "May I ask the woman one more question,
+sir, before I lay a charge against the man?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+Stonor addressed the woman. "You say you are unmarried?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What are you doing with a wedding-ring?"
+
+"It's my mother's ring. She gave it to me when she died."
+
+"Tole," said Stonor, "take that ring off and hand it to me." To the
+Major he added in explanation: "Wedding-rings usually have the initials
+of the contracting parties and the date."
+
+"Of course!"
+
+The ring was removed and handed to Stonor.
+
+Examining it he said: "There is an inscription here, sir. It is: 'J.I.
+to A.A., March 3rd, 1886.' It stands to reason this woman's mother was
+married long before 1886."
+
+"She was married twice," muttered the woman.
+
+Stonor laughed.
+
+"What do you make of it, Sergeant?" asked the Major.
+
+"John Imbrie to Annie Alexander."
+
+"Then you suspect----?"
+
+"That this woman is the man's mother, sir. It first occurred to me last
+night."
+
+"By George! there is a certain likeness."
+
+All those in the tent stared at the two prisoners in astonishment. The
+couple bore it with sullen inscrutability.
+
+"I am now ready to make a charge against the man, sir."
+
+The Major sat down. "What is the charge?"
+
+"Murder."
+
+Imbrie must have had this possibility in mind, for his face never
+changed a muscle. The woman, however, was frankly taken by surprise. She
+flung up her manacled hands involuntarily; a sharp cry escaped her.
+
+"It's a lie!"
+
+"Whom did he murder?"
+
+"A man unknown to me, sir."
+
+"Where was the deed committed?"
+
+"At or near the shack above the Great Falls."
+
+The woman's inscrutability was gone. She watched Stonor and waited for
+his evidence in an agony of apprehension.
+
+"Did you find the body?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Under what circumstances?"
+
+"It had been thrown in the rapids, sir, in the expectation that it would
+be carried over the falls. Instead, however, it lodged in a log-jam
+above the falls. As I was walking along the shore I saw a foot sticking
+out of the water. I brought the body ashore----"
+
+"You brought the body ashore--out of the rapids above the falls----?"
+
+"Yes, sir. A woman I had with me, Mary Moosa, helped me."
+
+"Describe the victim."
+
+"A young man, sir, that is to say, under thirty. In stature about the
+same as the prisoner, and of the same complexion. What remained of his
+clothes suggested a man of refinement."
+
+"But his face?"
+
+"It was unrecognizable, sir."
+
+A dreadful low cry broke from the half-breed woman. Her manacled hands
+went to her face, her body rocked forward from the waist.
+
+The man rapped out a command to her in the Indian tongue to get a grip
+on herself. She tried to obey, straightening up, and taking down her
+hands. Her face showed a ghastly yellow pallor.
+
+"What proof have you of murder?" asked the Major.
+
+"There was no water in the dead man's lungs, sir, showing that he was
+dead before his body entered the water. There was a bullet-hole through
+his heart. I found the bullet itself lodged in the front of his spine.
+It was thirty-eight calibre, a revolver bullet. This man carried a
+thirty-eight revolver. I took it from him. I sent revolver and bullet
+out by Tole Grampierre."
+
+Lambert spoke up: "They are in my possession, sir."
+
+The breed woman seemed about to collapse. Imbrie, who had given no sign
+of being affected by Stonor's recital, now said with a more conciliatory
+air than he had yet shown:
+
+"If you please, sir, she is overcome by the trooper's horrible story.
+Will you let her go outside for a moment to recover herself?"
+
+"Very well," said the good-natured Major, "watch her, Lambert."
+
+As the woman passed him Imbrie whispered to her in the Indian tongue:
+"Throw your locket in the river."
+
+Stonor, on the alert for a trick of some kind, overheard. "No, you
+don't!" he said, stepping forward.
+
+The woman made a sudden dive for the door, but Lambert seized her. She
+struggled like a mad thing, but the tall sergeant's arms closed around
+her like a vice. Meanwhile Stonor essayed to unclasp the chain around
+her neck. The two breeds guarded Imbrie to keep him from interfering.
+
+Stonor got the locket off at last, and opened it with his thumb nail.
+The woman suddenly ceased to struggle, and sagged in Lambert's arms. An
+exclamation escaped from Stonor, and he glanced sharply into Imbrie's
+face. Within the locket on one side was a tinted photograph of the heads
+of two little boys, oddly alike. On the other side was an inscription in
+the neat Spencerian characters of twenty years before: "Ernest and
+William Imbrie,"--and a date.
+
+Stonor handed the locket over to the Major without speaking. "Ha!" cried
+the latter. "So that is the explanation. There were two of them!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+A LETTER FROM MAJOR EGERTON TO HIS FRIEND ARTHUR DONCOURT, ESQ.
+
+
+MY DEAR DONCOURT:
+
+You ask me to tell you some of the circumstances underlying the Imbrie
+murder case of which you have read the account in the annual report of
+the R.N.W.M.P. just published. You are right in supposing that a strange
+and moving tale is hidden behind the cold and formal phraseology of the
+report.
+
+The first Imbrie was the Reverend Ernest, who went as a missionary to
+the Sikannis Indians away back in '79. Up to that time these Indians
+were absolutely uncivilized, and bore a reputation for savage cruelty. I
+suppose that was what stimulated the good man's zeal. He left a saintly
+tradition behind him. The Sikannis live away up the corner of British
+Columbia, on the head-waters of the Stanley River, one of the main
+branches of the Spirit River. The Spirit River, as you may know, rises
+west of the Rocky Mountains and breaks through. There is not a more
+remote spot this side the Arctic Circle, nor one more difficult of
+access.
+
+The missionary brought with him his son, John Imbrie, a boy just
+approaching manhood. Very likely the danger of bringing up a boy
+absolutely cut off from the women of his race never occurred to the
+father. The inevitable happened. The boy fell in love with a handsome
+half-breed girl, the daughter of a wandering prospector and a Sikanni
+squaw, and married her out of hand. The heartbroken father was himself
+compelled to perform the ceremony. This was in 1886.
+
+The Imbries were so far cut off from their kind that in time they were
+forgotten. The missionary supported himself by farming in a small way
+and trading his surplus products with the Indians. John turned out to be
+a good farmer and they prospered. Their farm was the last outpost of
+agriculture in that direction. From the time he went in with his father
+John did not see the outside world again until 1889, when he took his
+wife and babies out, with a vain hope, I think, of trying to educate the
+woman. Most of these marriages have tragic results, and this was no
+exception. During all the years in her husband's house this woman
+resisted every civilizing influence, except that she learned to deck
+herself out like a white woman.
+
+She bore her husband twin sons, who were christened Ernest and William.
+They bore a strong resemblance to each other, but as they began to
+develop it appeared, as is so often the case in these mixed families,
+that Ernest had a white man's nature, and William a red man's. When the
+time came they were sent out to Winnipeg to school, but William, true to
+the savage nature, sickened in civilised surroundings, and had to be
+sent home. On the other hand, Ernest proved to be a sufficiently apt
+scholar, and went on through school and college. During the whole period
+between his thirteenth and his twenty-fourth year he was only home two
+or three times. William remained at home and grew up in ignorance. John
+Imbrie, the father, I gather, was a worthy man, but somewhat weak in his
+family relations.
+
+Ernest went on to a medical college with the idea of practising among
+the Sikannis, who had no doctor. During his second year his father died,
+long before he could reach him, of course. He remained outside until he
+got his diploma. Meanwhile his mother and brother quickly relapsed into
+a state of savagery. They "pitched around" with the Indians, and the
+farm which had been so painstakingly hewn out of the wilderness by the
+two preceding generations grew up in weeds.
+
+Ernest had a painful homecoming, I expect. However, he patiently set to
+work to restore his father's work. He managed to persuade his mother and
+brother to return and live in white man's fashion, but they made his
+life a hell for him, according to all accounts. They were insanely
+jealous of his superior attainments. Neither did the Sikannis welcome
+Doctor Ernest's ministrations. Since the death of the missionary they
+had been gradually slipping back into their ignorant ways, and now they
+instinctively took the part of the mother against the educated son. One
+can imagine what a dreary life the young medico lived among these
+savages. He has been described to me as a charming fellow, modest,
+kindly and plucky. And, by the way, I have not mentioned that these
+young fellows were uncommonly good-looking. William, or, as the Indians
+say, Hooliam, was one of the handsomest natives I ever saw.
+
+Meanwhile that remote country was being talked about outside on account
+of the gold deposits along the upper reaches of the Stanley--largely
+mythically I believe. However that may be, prospectors began to straggle
+in, and in the summer of the year following Ernest's return from
+college, the government sent in a surveyor, one Frank Starling, to
+survey the claims, and adjust disputes. Starling brought with him his
+daughter Clare, a young lady of adventurous disposition.
+
+Both the Imbrie boys fell in love with her according to their natures,
+thus further complicating the situation. Hooliam, the ignorant savage,
+could not aspire to her hand, of course, but the young doctor courted
+her, and she looked kindly on him. I do not consider that she was ever
+in love with him, though apart from the dark strain he was worthy of it
+as men go, a manly fellow!--but it was the hardness of his lot that
+touched her heart. Like many a good woman before her, she was carried
+away by compassion for the dogged youth struggling against such hopeless
+odds.
+
+The father completed his work and took her out, and Ernest Imbrie
+followed them. They were married in the early spring at Fort Edward on
+the Campbell River, where the Starlings wintered. Ernest carried his
+bride back by canoe, hundreds of miles through the wilderness.
+
+Their happiness, if indeed they were ever happy, was of brief duration.
+Whichever way you look at it, the situation was impossible. Ernest's
+mother, the breed woman, acted like a fiend incarnate, I have been told,
+and I can quite believe it, having witnessed some of her subsequent
+performances. Then there was the brother-in-law always hanging around
+the house, nursing his evil passion for his brother's wife. And in the
+background the ignorant, unfriendly Indians.
+
+The catastrophe was precipitated by a gross insult offered to the girl
+by her husband's brother. He broke into her room one night impudently
+assuming to masquerade as her husband. Her husband saved her from him,
+but in the shock to her nerves she experienced a revulsion against the
+lot of them--and small wonder!
+
+Her husband of his own free will took her back to her father. That's one
+of the finest things in the story, for there's no question but that he
+loved her desperately. The loss of her broke his spirit, which had
+endured so much. He never went back home. He felt, poor fellow, as if he
+were cast out alike by reds and whites, and his instinct was to find a
+place where he could bury himself far from all humankind.
+
+He was next heard of at Miwasa landing a thousand miles away, across
+the mountains. Here he got employment with a york boat crew and
+travelled with them down-stream some hundreds of miles north to Great
+Buffalo Lake. Here he obtained a canoe from the Indians, and, with a
+small store of grub, set off on his own. He made his way up the Swan
+River, an unexplored stream emptying into Great Buffalo Lake, as far as
+the Great Falls, and there he built himself a shack.
+
+He could hardly have found a spot better suited to his purpose. No white
+man so far as known had ever visited those falls, and even the Indians
+avoid the neighbourhood for superstitious reasons. But even here he
+could not quite cut himself off from his kind. An epidemic of measles
+broke out among the Kakisa Indians up the river from him, and out of
+pure humanity he went among them and cured them. These Indians were
+grateful, strange to say; they almost deified the white man who had
+appeared so strangely in their country.
+
+Meanwhile the wrong she had done him began to prey on his wife's mind.
+She could not rest under the thought that she had wrecked his
+usefulness. Ernest Imbrie had, with the idea of keeping his mind from
+rusting out in solitude, ordered certain papers and books sent to him at
+Fort Enterprise. His wife learned of this address through his medical
+college, and in the spring of the year following her marriage, that is
+to say the spring of the year just past, she set off in search of him
+without saying anything to anybody of her intention.
+
+She and her father were still at Fort Edward--have I said that the girl
+had no mother?--and Hooliam Imbrie had been there, too, during the
+winter, not daring to approach the girl precisely, but just hanging
+around the neighbourhood. One can't help feeling for the poor wretch,
+bad as he was, he was hard-hit, too. He bribed a native servant to show
+him the letter giving his brother's address, and when the girl set off,
+he instantly guessed her errand, and determined to prevent their
+meeting.
+
+Now it is only a short distance from Fort Edward over the height of land
+to the source of the main southerly branch of the Spirit, and Hooliam
+was therefore able to proceed direct to Fort Enterprise by canoe (a
+journey of more than a thousand miles), pausing only to go up the
+Stanley to pick up his mother, who was ripe for such an adventure. At
+Carcajou Point, when they had almost reached Enterprise, they heard the
+legend of the White Medicine Man off on the unknown Swan River, and they
+decided to avoid Enterprise and hit straight across the prairie.
+
+Meanwhile the girl was obliged to make a long detour south to the
+railway, then across the mountains and north again by all sorts of
+conveyances, with many delays. So Hooliam and his mother arrived a few
+weeks before her, but they in turn were delayed at Swan Lake by the
+woman's illness.
+
+You have read a transcript of the statements of this precious pair at
+the hearing before me. Read it again, and observe the ingenious web of
+truth and falsehood. For instance, it was true the woman fell sick at
+Swan Lake, and Hooliam after waiting awhile for her, finally went down
+the river without her--only a few days in advance of Sergeant Stonor and
+Ernest Imbrie's wife. As soon as Hooliam reached Swan Lake he began to
+meet Indians who had seen his brother, and thereafter he was always
+hailed among them as the White Medicine Man. The Indians never troubled
+to explain to themselves how he had got to Swan Lake, because they
+ascribed magical powers to him anyway.
+
+What happened between the brothers when they met will never be known for
+certain. Hooliam swears that he did not intend to kill Ernest, but that
+the deed was done in self-defence during a quarrel. However that may
+be, Ernest was shot through the heart with a bullet from Hooliam's gun,
+and his body cast in the river.
+
+You have read the rest of the story; how Stonor arrived with Ernest's
+wife, and how, at the shock of beholding her husband's body, the poor
+girl lost her memory. How Hooliam sought to escape up-stream, and
+Stonor's confusion when he was told by an Indian that the White Medicine
+Man was still alive. How Hooliam kidnapped the girl from Stonor, and
+tried to win back to the mountains and his own country by way of the
+unexplored river.
+
+We established the fact that Hooliam did not tell his mother what had
+happened at the Great Falls. She thought that Hooliam had found Ernest
+gone still further north. You can see at the hearing how when Stonor
+first told of the murder, in her horror at the discovery that one
+brother had killed the other the truth finally came out. Though she had
+always taken Hooliam's part she could not altogether deny her feeling
+for the other son.
+
+Well, that's about all. I consider that they got off easily; Hooliam
+with twenty years, and the woman with half that sentence; but in the
+man's case it was impossible to prove that the murder was a deliberate
+one, and though the woman certainly did her best to put Stonor out of
+the way, as it happened he escaped.
+
+You ask about the Indian woman, Mary Moosa, who served Stonor and Mrs.
+Imbrie so faithfully. We overtook her at Swan Lake on the way out. So
+she did not starve to death on the river, but recovered from her wound.
+
+When we got out as far as Caribou Lake we met Mrs. Imbrie's distracted
+father coming in search of her. The meeting between them was very
+affecting. I am happy to say that the young lady has since recovered
+her memory entirely, and at the last account was very well.
+
+You are curious to know what kind of fellow Stonor is. I can only
+answer, an ornament to the service. Simple, manly and dependable as a
+trooper ought to be. With a splendid strong body and a good wit. Out of
+such as he the glorious tradition of our force was built. They are
+becoming more difficult to get, I am sorry to say. I had long had my eye
+on him, and this affair settled it. I have recommended him for a
+commission. He is a man of good birth and education. Moreover I saw that
+if we didn't commission him we'd lose him; for he wants to get married.
+As a result of the terrible trials they faced together he and Ernest
+Imbrie's widow have conceived a deep affection for each other. Enlisted
+men are not allowed to marry. They make a fine pair, Doncourt. It makes
+an old fellow sort of happy and weepy to see them together.
+
+Stonor is now at the Officers' School at General Headquarters, and if he
+passes his examinations will be commissioned in the summer.
+
+We'll talk further about this interesting case when good fortune brings
+us together again. In the meantime, my dear Doncourt,
+
+                    Yours faithfully,
+                              FRANK EGERTON.
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+
+In a bare and spotless company-room in headquarters in Regina eight
+uneasy troopers in fatigue uniform were waiting. Down one side of the
+room a row of tall windows looked out on the brown parade-ground, and
+beyond the buildings on the other side they could see a long
+Transcontinental train slowly gathering way up the westward grade.
+
+"Hey, boys!" cried one. "How'd you like to be aboard her with your
+shoulder-straps and spurs?"
+
+They cast unfriendly glances at the speaker and snorted.
+
+"Don't try to be an ass, Carter," said one. "It doesn't require the
+effort."
+
+They evinced their nervousness in characteristic ways. Several were
+polishing bits of brass already dazzling; one sat voraciously chewing
+gum and staring into vacancy; one paced up and down like a caged animal;
+another tried to pick a quarrel with his mates, and the eighth, Sergeant
+Stonor--the hero of Swan River they called him when they wished to annoy
+him--sat in a corner writing a letter.
+
+To the eight entered a hardened sergeant-major, purpled-jowled and
+soldierly. All eight pairs of eyes sprang to his face in a kind of agony
+of suspense. He twirled his moustache and a wicked, dancing light
+appeared in his little blue eyes.
+
+"You're a nice set of duffers!" he rasped. "Blockheads all eight of you.
+Why they ever sent you down beats me. I've seen some rum lots, but never
+your equal. Flunked, every man of you!"
+
+The eight pairs of eyes were cast down. Nobody said anything. Each was
+thinking: "So that dream is over. I mustn't let anything on before the
+others": those who were polishing brass gave an extra twirl to the
+chamois.
+
+Stonor, suddenly suspicious, narrowly searched the sergeant-major's
+face. "Fellows, he's joshing!" he cried. "It isn't possible that every
+one of us has flunked! It isn't reasonable!"
+
+The sergeant-major roared with laughter. "Wonderful penetration,
+Sherlock! When I saw your faces I couldn't help it. You were asking for
+it. All passed! That's straight. Congrats!" He passed on down the
+corridor.
+
+There was a silence in the company-room. They looked shyly at each other
+to see how the news was being taken. Each felt a sudden warmth of heart
+towards all his mates. All of them displayed an elaborate and perfectly
+transparent assumption of indifference. Stonor added a postscript to his
+letter, and sedately folded it.
+
+Then speech came, at first softly. "Damn old Huggins, anyway. Almost
+gave me heart-failure!... Wot t'hell, Bill! Poor old Hugs, it was his
+last chance. Sure, we'll have him where we want him now.... Think of
+being able to call Hugs down!... Lordy, Lordy, am I awake!"
+
+Suddenly the unnatural tension broke, and a long-limbed trooper jumped
+to his feet with his arms in the air. "Boys! Are you dumb! We've passed!
+We've got the straps! All together now, Mumbo-Jumbo!"
+
+They marched around the room with their hands on each other's shoulders,
+singing:
+
+    "For I've got rings on my fingers
+     And bells on my toes;
+     Elephants to ride upon----"
+
+In a little house in Vancouver, embowered in such greenery as only the
+mild, moist airs of Puget Sound can produce, a young woman sat in her
+drawing-room regarding a letter she had just read with a highly
+dissatisfied air. It was a pretty little room, not rich nor fussy, but
+expressing the charm of an individual woman no less than the clothes she
+wore.
+
+To the mistress entered the maid, to wit, a matronly Indian woman with
+an intelligent face. She looked from her mistress' face to the letter,
+and back to her mistress again. When the latter made no offer to speak
+she said, for she was a privileged person:
+
+"You hear from Stonor?"
+
+Clare nodded.
+
+"He not pass his 'xamination, I guess?"
+
+"Certainly he has passed!" said Clare sharply. "If anybody can pass
+their examinations he can."
+
+"Why you look so sorry then?"
+
+"Oh--nothing. I didn't expect him to write it. A five-word postscript at
+the end of a matter-of-fact letter."
+
+"Maybe he couldn't get leave."
+
+"He said he'd get leave if he passed."
+
+"Maybe he comin' anyhow."
+
+"He never says a word about coming."
+
+"You ask him to come?"
+
+"Of course not!"
+
+"Don't you want him come?"
+
+"I don't know whether I do or not."
+
+Mary looked perplexed.
+
+Clare burst out, "I can't ask him. He'd feel obliged to come. A man--man
+like that anyway, would feel after what we've been through together that
+I had a claim on him. Well, I don't want him to come out of a sense of
+duty. Don't you understand?"
+
+Mary shook her head. "If I want something I ask for it."
+
+"It's not so simple as all that!"
+
+"Maybe he think he not wanted here."
+
+"A man's supposed to take that chance."
+
+"Awful long way to come on a chance," said Mary. "Maybe I write to him."
+
+Clare jumped up. "Don't you dare!" she cried. "If I thought for a
+moment--if I thought he had been _brought_, I should be perfectly
+hateful to him. I couldn't help myself--Is that a motor at the gate?"
+
+"Yes, Miss, a taxi-cab."
+
+"Stopping here?"
+
+"Yes, Miss,"--with absolute calm: "Stonor is gettin' out."
+
+"What!--Oh, Mary!--It can't be!--It is!"
+
+A bell rang.
+
+"Oh, Mary! What shall I do? Don't go to the door! Let him wait a minute.
+Let me think what I must do. Let me get upstairs!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor got up and sat down, and got up again. He walked to the window
+and back to the door. He listened for sounds in the house, and then went
+back to his chair again. He heard a sound overhead and sprang to the
+door once more. He saw her on the stairs, and retreated back into the
+room. She came down with maddening deliberation, step by step. She did
+not look through the door, but paused a second to straighten a picture
+that hung askew on the wall. Stonor's heart was beating like a
+trip-hammer.
+
+She came into the room smiling in friendly fashion with a little gush of
+speech--but her eyes did not quite meet his.
+
+"Well, Martin! Congratulations! I just got your letter this morning. I
+didn't expect you to follow so soon. So it's Inspector Stonor now, eh?
+Very becoming uniform, sir! Was the examination difficult? You must tell
+me all about it. I suppose you are just off the train. What kind of a
+trip did you have? Sit down."
+
+He was a little flabbergasted by her easy flow of speech. "I don't want
+to sit down," he muttered huskily. He was staring at her from a white
+face.
+
+She sat; glanced out of the window, glanced here and there about the
+room, and rattled on: "Haven't we got a jolly little place here? But I
+expect we'll be ordered on directly. Mary and I were talking about you
+the moment you rang the bell. Mary is so good to me, but her heart is
+already turning to Fort Enterprise and her children, I'm afraid."
+
+He found his tongue at last. "Clare, don't!" he cried brokenly. "I
+didn't come eight hundred miles to hear you make parlour conversation.
+What's the matter? What have I done? If you've changed towards me tell
+me so plainly, and let me get out. I can't stand this!"
+
+Panic seized her. "I must see about lunch. Excuse me just a moment," she
+said, making for the door.
+
+He caught her as she tried to pass. "Damn lunch! Look me in the eye,
+woman!"
+
+She relaxed. Her eyes crept imploringly up to his. "Bear!" she
+whispered. "You might at least have given me a moment's respite!--Oh, I
+love you! I love you! I love you!"
+
+                    THE END
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following changes have been made from the
+original text:
+
+  Pg. 27:  heart-strings --> heartstrings
+           (... plucked at his heartstrings with a ...)
+  Pg. 44:  strain ... --> strain....
+           (I've been under a strain....)
+  Pg. 54:  bambye --> bam-bye
+           (... but bam-bye he rise up again ...)
+  Pg. 85:  storeroom --> store-room
+           (... a work-room and store-room.)
+  Pg. 85:  Snow-shoes --> Snowshoes
+           (Snowshoes, roughly-fashioned fur garments ...)
+  Pg. 105: backwater --> back-water
+           (... out of the back-water alongshore ...)
+  Pg. 105: along-shore --> alongshore
+           (... out of the back-water alongshore ...)
+  Pg. 133: redskin --> red-skin
+           (Some red-skin mumbo-jumbo.)
+  Pg. 172: horseflesh --> horse-flesh
+           (... horse-flesh, fresh into the bargain.)
+  Pg. 174: singlehanded --> single-handed
+           (... brave him single-handed ...)
+  Pg. 219: get's --> gets
+           (And if she gets a knife ...)
+  Pg. 256: headwaters --> head-waters
+           (... on the head-waters of the Stanley River ...)
+  Pg. 260: downstream --> down-stream
+           (... travelled with them down-stream ...)
+  Pg. 267: hunk --> hung
+           (... picture that hung askew ...)]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Woman from Outside, by Hulbert Footner
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman from Outside, by Hulbert Footner
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Woman from Outside
+       [on Swan River]
+
+Author: Hulbert Footner
+
+Release Date: June 22, 2008 [EBook #25875]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Scott Olson, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="tnote">
+<p>Obvious errors in the text have been corrected.
+Changes have also been made to make spelling, hyphenation, and
+punctuation use consistent. Changed sections are marked in the text with a thin gray underline. Hovering your mouse over the text will display the correction, like <ins class="correction" title='Original reads &ldquo;thsi&rdquo;'>this</ins>.</p>
+</div>
+<div id="cover">
+<img src="images/cover01.jpg" width="257" height="400" alt="[Book cover]" title="Book cover">
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major">
+
+<div id="tpage">
+<h1>THE WOMAN<br>
+<em>from</em> &ldquo;OUTSIDE&rdquo;<br>
+<span class="subtitle">[On Swan River]</span></h1>
+
+<p id="byline">By<br>
+<big>HULBERT FOOTNER</big><br>
+Author of &ldquo;The Fur Bringers&rdquo; etc.</p>
+
+<div id="pmark">
+<img src="images/tp01.png" width="75" height="75" alt="[Publisher&rsquo;s mark]" title="Publisher&rsquo;s mark">
+</div>
+
+<p id="publine">THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY<br>
+<span class="left">Publishers</span> <span class="right">New York</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<div id="verso">
+<p id="cline">Copyright, 1921 by<br>
+THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY</p>
+
+<p id="allrights">All Rights Reserved</p>
+
+<p id="printedin">PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<div id="TOC">
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<p class="heading">CHAPTER <span class="page">PAGE</span></p>
+
+<ol>
+  <li>The White Medicine Man <span class="one"><a class="page" href="#Page_1">1</a></span></li>
+  <li>Hooliam <a class="page" href="#Page_15">15</a></li>
+  <li>The Unexpected Visitor <a class="page" href="#Page_24">24</a></li>
+  <li>More About Clare <a class="page" href="#Page_35">35</a></li>
+  <li>The First Stage <a class="page" href="#Page_46">46</a></li>
+  <li>The Kakisas <a class="page" href="#Page_59">59</a></li>
+  <li>On the River <a class="page" href="#Page_68">68</a></li>
+  <li>The Log Shack <a class="page" href="#Page_83">83</a></li>
+  <li>The Foot <a class="page" href="#Page_96">96</a></li>
+  <li>The Start Home <a class="page" href="#Page_111">111</a></li>
+  <li>The Mystery <a class="page" href="#Page_129">129</a></li>
+  <li>Imbrie <a class="page" href="#Page_139">139</a></li>
+  <li>The Rescue <a class="page" href="#Page_154">154</a></li>
+  <li>Pursuit <a class="page" href="#Page_172">172</a></li>
+  <li>Ups and Downs <a class="page" href="#Page_192">192</a></li>
+  <li>The Last Stage on Swan River <a class="page" href="#Page_212">212</a></li>
+  <li>The Hearing <a class="page" href="#Page_243">243</a></li>
+  <li>A Letter From Major Egerton to His Friend Arthur Doncourt, Esq. <a class="page" href="#Page_256">256</a></li>
+  <li class="nochap">Epilogue <a class="page" href="#Page_264">264</a></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr class="major">
+<h1><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span><a name="THE_WOMAN_FROM_OUTSIDE" id="THE_WOMAN_FROM_OUTSIDE"></a>THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE</h1>
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I
+<span class="subtitle">THE WHITE MEDICINE MAN</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>On a January afternoon, as darkness was beginning to gather, the &ldquo;gang&rdquo;
+sat around the stove in the Company store at Fort Enterprise discussing
+that inexhaustible question, the probable arrival of the mail. The big
+lofty store, with its glass front, its electric lights, its stock of
+expensive goods set forth on varnished shelves, suggested a city
+emporium rather than the Company&rsquo;s most north-westerly post, nearly a
+thousand miles from civilization; but human energy accomplishes seeming
+miracles in the North as elsewhere, and John Gaviller the trader was
+above all an energetic man. Throughout the entire North they point with
+pride to Gaviller&rsquo;s flour mill, his big steamboat, his great yellow
+clap-boarded house&mdash;two storeys and attic, and a fence of palings around
+it! Why, at Fort Enterprise they even have a sidewalk, the only one
+north of fifty-five!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see why Hairy Ben can&rsquo;t come down,&rdquo; said Doc Giddings&mdash;Doc was
+the grouch of the post&mdash;&ldquo;the ice on the river has been fit for
+travelling for a month now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ben can&rsquo;t start from the Crossing until the mail<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> comes through from
+the Landing,&rdquo; said Gaviller. &ldquo;It can&rsquo;t start from the Landing until the
+ice is secure on the Big River, the Little River, and across Caribou
+Lake.&rdquo; Gaviller was a handsome man of middle life, who took exceeding
+good care of himself, and ruled his principality with an amiable
+relentlessness. They called him the &ldquo;Czar,&rdquo; and it did not displease
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Everybody knows Caribou Lake freezes over first,&rdquo; grumbled the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the rivers down there are swift, and it&rsquo;s six hundred miles south
+of here. Give them time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The trouble is, they wait until the horse-road is made over the ice
+before starting the mail in. If the Government had the enterprise of a
+ground-hog they&rsquo;d send in dogs ahead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nobody uses dogs down there any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I say &rsquo;tain&rsquo;t right to ask human beings to wait three months for
+their mail. Who knows what may have happened since the freeze-up last
+October?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s happened has happened,&rdquo; said Father Goussard mildly, &ldquo;and
+knowing about it can&rsquo;t change it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The doctor ignored the proffered consolation. &ldquo;What we need is a new
+mail-man,&rdquo; he went on bitterly. &ldquo;I know Hairy Ben! I&rsquo;ll bet he&rsquo;s had the
+mail at the Crossing for a week, and puts off starting every day for
+fear of snow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, &rsquo;tain&rsquo;t a job as I&rsquo;d envy any man,&rdquo; put in Captain Stinson of the
+steamboat <span class="boatname">Spirit River</span>, now hauled out on the shore. &ldquo;Breaking a road
+for three hundred and fifty mile, and not a stopping-house the whole way
+till he gets to the Beaver Indians at Carcajou Point.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The doctor addressed himself to the policeman, who was mending a
+snowshoe in the background. &ldquo;Stonor, you&rsquo;ve got the best dogs in the
+post; why don&rsquo;t you go up after him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>The young sergeant raised his head with a grin. He was a good-looking,
+long-limbed youth with a notable blue eye, and a glance of mirthful
+sobriety. &ldquo;No, thanks,&rdquo; he drawled. The others gathered from his tone
+that a joke was coming, and pricked up their ears accordingly. &ldquo;No,
+thanks. You forget that Sarge Lambert up at the Crossing is my senior.
+When I drove up he&rsquo;d say: &lsquo;What the hell are you doing up here?&rsquo; And
+when I told him he&rsquo;d come back with his well-known embellishments of
+language: &lsquo;Has the R.N.W.M.P. nothing better to do than tote Doc
+Giddings&rsquo; love-letters?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A great laugh greeted this sally: they are so grateful for the smallest
+of jokes on winter afternoons up North.</p>
+
+<p>Doc Giddings subsided, but the discussion went on without him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, he&rsquo;ll have easy going in from Carcajou; the Indians coming in and
+out have beaten a good trail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, when he gets to Carcajou he&rsquo;s here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If it don&rsquo;t snow. That bit over the prairie drifts badly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The barometer&rsquo;s falling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so on. And so on. They made the small change of conversation go far.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of it they were electrified by a shout from the land trail
+and the sound of bells.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here he is!&rdquo; they cried, jumping up to a man, and making for the door.</p>
+
+<p>Ben Causton, conscious of his importance, made a dramatic entrance with
+the mail-bags over his shoulder, and cast them magnificently on the
+counter. Even up north, where every man cultivates his own peculiarities
+unhindered, Ben was considered a &ldquo;character.&rdquo; He was a short, thick man
+of enormous physical strength, and he sported a beard like a quickset
+hedge, hence his nickname. He was clad in an entire suit of fur like an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
+Eskimo, with a gaudy red worsted sash about his ample middle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hello, Ben! Gee! but you&rsquo;re slow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hello, fellows! Keep your hair on! If you want to send out for
+catalogues in the middle of winter you&rsquo;re lucky if I get here at all.
+Next month, if the second class bag&rsquo;s as heavy as this, I&rsquo;ll drop it
+through an air-hole&mdash;I swear I will! So now you&rsquo;re warned! I got somepin
+better to do than tote catalogues. When I die and go to hell, I only
+hope I meet the man who invented mail-order catalogues there, that&rsquo;s
+all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re getting feeble, Ben!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I got strength enough left to put your head in chancery!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the news of the world, Ben?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sarge Lambert&rsquo;s got a bone felon. Ally Stiff lost a sow and a whole
+litter through the ice up there. Mahooly of the French outfit at the
+Settlement&rsquo;s gone out to get him a set of chiny teeth. Says he&rsquo;s going
+to get blue ones to dazzle the Indians. Oh, and I almost forgot; down at
+Ottawa the Grits are out and the Tories in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bully!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God help Canada!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>While Gaviller unlocked the bags, Ben went out to tie up his dogs and
+feed them. The trader handed out letters to the eager, extended hands,
+that trembled a little. Brightening eyes pounced on the superscriptions.
+Gaviller himself had a daughter outside being &ldquo;finished,&rdquo; the apple of
+his eye: Captain Stinson had a wife, and Mathews the engineer, an
+elderly sweetheart. The dark-skinned Gordon Strange, Gaviller&rsquo;s clerk,
+carried on an extensive correspondence, the purport of which was unknown
+to the others, and Father Goussard was happy in the receipt of many
+letters from his confr&egrave;res. Even young Stonor was excited, who had no
+one in the world to write to him but a married sister who sent him
+long,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> dutiful chronicles of small beer. But it was from &ldquo;home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The second-class bag with the papers was scarcely less exciting. To
+oblige Ben they only took one newspaper between them, and passed it
+around, but in this mail three months&rsquo; numbers had accumulated. As the
+contents of the bag cascaded out on the counter, Stonor picked up an
+unfamiliar-looking magazine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hello, what&rsquo;s this?&rdquo; he cried, reading the label in surprise. &ldquo;Doctor
+Ernest Imbrie. Who the deuce is he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Must have come here by mistake,&rdquo; said Gaviller.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a bit of it! Here&rsquo;s the whole story: Doctor Ernest Imbrie, Fort
+Enterprise, Spirit River, Athabasca.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It passed around from hand to hand. A new name was something to catch
+the attention at Fort Enterprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, here&rsquo;s another!&rdquo; cried Gaviller in excitement. &ldquo;And another! Blest
+if half the bag isn&rsquo;t for him! And all addressed just so!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They looked at each other a little blankly. All this evidence had the
+effect of creating an apparition there in their midst. There was an
+appreciable silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Must be somebody who started in last year and never got through,&rdquo; said
+Mathews. He spoke with an air of relief at discovering so reasonable an
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we hear about everybody who comes north of the Landing,&rdquo; objected
+Gaviller. &ldquo;I would have been advised if he had a credit here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Another doctor!&rdquo; said Doc Giddings bitterly. &ldquo;If he expects to share my
+practice he&rsquo;s welcome!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At another time they would have laughed at this, but the mystery teased
+them. They resented the fact that some rank outsider claimed Fort
+Enterprise for his post-office, without first having made himself
+known.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>&ldquo;If he went back outside, he&rsquo;d stop all this stuff coming in, you&rsquo;d
+think.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe somebody&rsquo;s just putting up a joke on us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Funny kind of joke! Subscriptions to these magazines cost money.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor read off the titles of the magazines: &ldquo;<span class="title">The Medical Record</span>; <span class="title">The
+American Medical Journal</span>; <span class="title">The Physician&rsquo;s and Surgeon&rsquo;s Bulletin</span>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite a scientific guy,&rdquo; said Doctor Giddings, with curling lip.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Strange, he gets so many papers and not a single letter!&rdquo; remarked
+Father Goussard. &ldquo;A friendless man!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Gaviller picked up a round tin, one of several packed and addressed
+alike. He read the business card of a well-known tobacconist. &ldquo;Smoking
+tobacco!&rdquo; he said indignantly. &ldquo;If the Company&rsquo;s Dominion Mixture isn&rsquo;t
+good enough for any man I&rsquo;d like to know it! He has a cheek, if you ask
+me, bringing in tobacco under my very nose!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tobacco!&rdquo; cried Stonor. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all very well about papers, but no man
+would waste good tobacco! It must be somebody who started in before
+Ben!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Their own mail matter, that they had looked forward to so impatiently,
+was forgotten now.</p>
+
+<p>When Ben Causton came back they bombarded him with questions. But this
+bag had come through locked all the way from Miwasa Landing, and Ben,
+even Ben, the great purveyor of gossip in the North, had heard nothing
+of any Doctor Imbrie on his way in. Ben was more excited and more
+indignant than any of them. Somebody had got ahead of him in spreading a
+sensation!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a hoe-axe,&rdquo; said Ben. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s them fellows down at the Landing
+trying to get a rise out of me. Or if it ain&rsquo;t that, it&rsquo;s some guy
+comin&rsquo; in next spring, and sendin&rsquo; in his outfit piecemeal ahead of him.
+And me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> powerless to protect myself! Ain&rsquo;t that an outrage! But when I
+meet him on the trail I&rsquo;ll put it to him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There are newspapers here, too,&rdquo; Stonor pointed out. &ldquo;No man coming in
+next spring would send himself last year&rsquo;s papers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where is he, then?&rdquo; they asked.</p>
+
+<p>The question was unanswerable.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;d like to see any lily-handed doctor guy from the outside face
+the river trail in the winter,&rdquo; said Ben bitterly. &ldquo;If he&rsquo;ll do that,
+I&rsquo;ll carry his outfit for him. But he&rsquo;ll need more than his diploma to
+fit him for it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At any rate they had a brand-new subject for conversation at the post.</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">About a week later, when Hairy Ben had started back up the river, the
+routine at the post was broken by the arrival of a small party of Kakisa
+Indians from the Kakisa or Swan River, a large unexplored stream off to
+the north-west. The Kakisas, an uncivilized and shy race, rarely
+appeared at Enterprise, and in order to get their trade Gaviller had
+formerly sent out a half-breed clerk to the Swan River every winter. But
+this man had lately died, and now the trade threatened to lapse for the
+lack of an interpreter. None of the Kakisas could speak English, and
+there was no company employee who could speak their uncouth tongue
+except Gordon Strange the bookkeeper, who could not be spared from the
+post.</p>
+
+<p>Wherefore Gaviller welcomed these six, in the hope that they might prove
+to be the vanguard of the main body. They were a wild and ragged lot,
+under the leadership of a withered elder called Mahtsonza. They were
+discovered by accident camping under cover of a poplar bluff across the
+river. No one knew how long they had been there, and Gordon Strange had
+a time persuading them to come the rest of the way. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> dusk when
+they entered the store, and Gaviller, by pre-arrangement with Mathews,
+clapped his hands and the electric lights went on. The effect surpassed
+his expectations. The Kakisas, with a gasp of terror, fled, and could
+not be tempted to return until daylight.</p>
+
+<p>They brought a good little bundle of fur, including two silver fox
+skins, the finest seen at Enterprise that season. They laid their fur on
+the counter, and sidled about the store silent and abashed, like
+children in a strange house. With perfectly wooden faces they took in
+all the wonders out of the corners of their eyes; the scales, the stove,
+the pictures on the canned goods, the show-cases of jewellery and candy.
+Candy they recognized, and, again like children, they discussed the
+respective merits of the different varieties in their own tongue.
+Gaviller, warned by his first mistake, affected to take no notice of
+them.</p>
+
+<p>The Kakisas had been in the store above an hour when Mahtsonza, without
+warning, produced a note from the inner folds of his dingy capote, and,
+handling it gingerly between thumb and forefinger, silently offered it
+to Gaviller. The trader&rsquo;s eyes almost started out of his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A letter!&rdquo; he cried stupidly. &ldquo;Where the hell did you get that?&mdash;Boys!
+Look here! A note from Swan River! Who in thunder at Swan River can
+write a white man&rsquo;s hand?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, Doc Giddings, Strange, and Mathews, who were in the store,
+hastened to him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s it addressed to?&rdquo; asked the policeman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just to the Company. Whoever wrote it didn&rsquo;t have the politeness to put
+my name down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe he doesn&rsquo;t know you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How could that be?&rdquo; asked Gaviller, with raised eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Open it! Open it!&rdquo; said Doc Giddings irritably.</p>
+
+<p>Gaviller did so, and his face expressed a still greater<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> degree of
+astonishment. &ldquo;Ha! Here&rsquo;s our man!&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Imbrie!&rdquo; they exclaimed in unison.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Listen!&rdquo; He read from the note.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>&ldquo;<span class="saluname">Gentlemen</span>&mdash;I am sending you two silver fox skins, for which please
+give me credit. I enclose an order for supplies, to be sent by
+bearer. Also be good enough to hand the bearer any mail matter
+which may be waiting for me.</p>
+
+<p class="quotsig">&ldquo;Yours truly,<br>
+&ldquo;<span class="saluname">Ernest Imbrie</span>.&rdquo;</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>The silence of stupefaction descended on them. The only gateway to the
+Swan River lay through Enterprise. How could a man have got there
+without their knowing it? Stupefaction was succeeded by resentment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will I be good enough to hand over his mail?&rdquo; sneered Gaviller. &ldquo;What
+kind of elegant language is this from Swan River?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sounds like a regular Percy,&rdquo; said Strange, who always echoed his
+chief.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Funny place for a Percy to set up,&rdquo; said Stonor drily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He orders flour, sugar, beans, rice, coffee, tea, baking-powder, salt,
+and dried fruit,&rdquo; said Gaviller, as if that were a fresh cause of
+offence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He has an appetite, then,&rdquo; said Stonor, &ldquo;he&rsquo;s no ghost.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly they fell upon Mahtsonza with a bombardment of questions,
+forgetting that the Indian could speak no English. He shrank back
+affrighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait a minute,&rdquo; said Strange. &ldquo;Let me talk to him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He conferred for awhile with Mahtsonza in the strange, clicking tongue
+of the Kakisas. Gaviller soon became impatient.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>&ldquo;Tell us as he goes along,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Never mind waiting for the end of
+the story.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They can&rsquo;t tell you anything directly,&rdquo; said Strange deprecatingly;
+&ldquo;there&rsquo;s nothing to do but let them tell a story in their own way. He&rsquo;s
+telling me now that Etzooah, a man with much hair, who hunts down the
+Swan River near the beginning of the swift water, came up to the village
+at the end of the horse-track on snowshoes and dragging a little sled.
+Etzooah had the letter for Gaviller, but he was tired out, so he handed
+it to Mahtsonza, who had dogs, to bring it the rest of the way, and gave
+Mahtsonza a mink-skin for his trouble.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind all that,&rdquo; said Gaviller impatiently. &ldquo;What about the white
+man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Strange conferred again with Mahtsonza, while Gaviller bit his nails.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mahtsonza says,&rdquo; he reported, &ldquo;that Imbrie is a great White Medicine
+Man who has done honour to the Kakisa people by coming among them to
+heal the sick and do good. Mahtsonza says he has not seen Imbrie
+himself, because when he came among the Indians last fall Mahtsonza was
+off hunting on the upper Swan, but all the people talk about him and
+what strong medicine he makes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Conjure tricks!&rdquo; muttered Doc Giddings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where does he live?&rdquo; demanded Gaviller.</p>
+
+<p>Strange asked the question and reported the answer. &ldquo;He has built
+himself a shack beside the Great Falls of the Swan River. Mahtsonza says
+that the people know his medicine is strong because he is not afraid to
+live with the voice of the Great Falls.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor asked the next question. &ldquo;What sort of man is he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Strange, after putting the question, said: &ldquo;Mahtsonza says he&rsquo;s very
+good-looking, or, as he puts it, a pretty man. He says he looks young,
+but he may be as old as the world, because with such strong medi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>cine he
+could make himself look like anything he wanted. He says that the White
+Medicine Man talks much with dried words in covers&mdash;I suppose he means
+books.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ask him what proof he has given them that his medicine is strong,&rdquo;
+suggested Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Strange translated Mahtsonza&rsquo;s answer as follows: &ldquo;Last year when the
+bush berries were ripe (that&rsquo;s August) all the Indians down the river
+got sick. Water came out of their eyes and nose; their skin got as red
+as sumach and burned like fire.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Measles,&rdquo; said Gaviller. &ldquo;The Beavers had it, too. They take it hard.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Strange continued: &ldquo;Mahtsonza says many of them died. They just lay down
+and gave up hope. Etzooah was the only Kakisa who had seen the White
+Medicine Man up to that time, and he went to him and asked him to make
+medicine to cure the sick. So the White Medicine Man came back with
+Etzooah to the village down the river. He had good words and a soft hand
+to the sick. He made medicine, and, behold! the sick arose and were
+well!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Faith cure!&rdquo; muttered Doc Giddings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How long has Imbrie been down there by the Falls?&rdquo; asked Gaviller.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mahtsonza says he came last summer when the ground berries were ripe.
+That would be about July.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he come down the river from the mountains?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mahtsonza says no. Nobody on the river saw him go down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did he come from, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mahtsonza says he doesn&rsquo;t know. Nobody knows. Some say he came from
+under the falls where the white bones lie. Some say it is the voice of
+the falls that comes among men in the shape of a man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rubbish! A ghost doesn&rsquo;t subscribe to medical journals!&rdquo; said Doc
+Giddings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He orders flour, sugar, beans,&rdquo; said Gaviller.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>When this was explained to Mahtsonza the Indian shrugged. Strange said:
+&ldquo;Mahtsonza says if he takes a man&rsquo;s shape he&rsquo;s got to feed it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pshaw!&rdquo; said Gaviller impatiently. &ldquo;He must have come up the river. It
+is known that the Swan River empties into Great Buffalo Lake. The Lake
+can&rsquo;t be more than a hundred miles below the falls. No white man has
+ever been through that way, but somebody&rsquo;s got to be the first.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we know every white man who ever went down to Great Buffalo Lake,&rdquo;
+said Doc Giddings. &ldquo;Certainly there never was a doctor there except the
+police doctor who makes the round with the treaty outfit every summer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s got me beat!&rdquo; said Gaviller, scratching his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe it&rsquo;s someone wanted by the police outside,&rdquo; suggested Gordon
+Strange, &ldquo;who managed to sneak into the country without attracting
+notice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s picked out a bad place to hide,&rdquo; said Stonor grimly. &ldquo;He&rsquo;ll be
+well advertised up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Stonor had a room in the &ldquo;quarters,&rdquo; a long, low barrack of logs on the
+side of the quadrangle facing the river. It had been the trader&rsquo;s
+residence before the days of the big clap-boarded villa. Stonor, tiring
+of the conversation around the stove, frequently spent the evenings in
+front of his own fire, and here he sometimes had a visitor, to wit, Tole
+Grampierre, youngest son of Simon, the French half-breed farmer up the
+river. Tole came of good, self-respecting native stock, and was in his
+own person a comely, sensible youngster a few years younger than the
+trooper. Tole was the nearest thing to a young friend that Stonor
+possessed in the post. They were both young enough to have some
+illusions left. They talked of things they would have blushed to expose
+to the cynicism of the older men.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>Stonor sat in his barrel chair that he had made himself, and Tole sat on
+the floor nursing his knees. Both were smoking Dominion mixture.</p>
+
+<p>Said Tole: &ldquo;Stonor, what you make of this Swan River mystery?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, anything can be a mystery until you learn the answer. I don&rsquo;t see
+why a man shouldn&rsquo;t settle out on Swan River if he has a mind to.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why do all the white men talk against him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t ask me. I doubt if they could tell you themselves. When men talk
+in a crowd they get started on a certain line and go on from bad to
+worse without thinking what they mean by it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Our people just the same that way, I guess,&rdquo; said Tole.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m no better,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know how it is, but fellows in a
+crowd seem to be obliged to talk more foolishly than they think in
+private.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t talk against him, Stonor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The policeman laughed. &ldquo;No, I stick up for him. It gets the others
+going. As a matter of fact, I&rsquo;d like to know this Imbrie. For one thing,
+he&rsquo;s young like ourselves, Tole. And he must be a decent sort, to cure
+the Indians, and all that. They&rsquo;re a filthy lot, what we&rsquo;ve seen of
+them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gaviller says he&rsquo;s going to send an outfit next spring to rout him out
+of his hole. Gaviller says he&rsquo;s a cash trader.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor chuckled. &ldquo;Gaviller hates a cash trader worse than a devil with
+horns. It&rsquo;s nonsense anyway. What would the Kakisas do with cash? This
+talk of sending in an expedition will all blow over before spring.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stonor, what for do you think he lives like that by himself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. Some yarn behind it, I suppose. Very likely a woman at
+the bottom of it. He&rsquo;s young.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> Young men do foolish things. Perhaps he&rsquo;d
+be thankful for a friend now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;White men got funny ideas about women, I think.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose it seems so. But where did you get that idea?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not from the talk at the store. I have read books. Love-stories.
+Pringle the missionary lend me a book call <span class="title">Family Herald</span> with many
+love-stories in it. From that I see that white men always go crazy about
+women.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laughed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stonor, were you ever real crazy about a woman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The trooper shook his head&mdash;almost regretfully, one might have said.
+&ldquo;The right one never came my way, Tole.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t like the girls around here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I do. Nice girls. Pretty, too. But well, you see, they&rsquo;re not the
+same colour as me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just the same, they are crazy about you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, they are. Call you &lsquo;Gold-piece.&rsquo; Us fellows got no chance if you
+want them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me about the stories you read, Tole.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Tole refused to be diverted from his subject. &ldquo;Stonor, I think you would
+like to be real crazy about a woman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe,&rdquo; said the other dreamily. &ldquo;Perhaps life would seem less empty
+then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Would you go bury yourself among the Indians for a woman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hardly think so,&rdquo; said Stonor, smiling. &ldquo;Though you never can tell
+what you might do. But if I got turned down, I suppose I&rsquo;d want to be as
+busy as possible to help forget it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I think that Imbrie is crazy for sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It takes all kinds to make a world. If I can get permission I&rsquo;m going
+out to see him next summer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II
+<span class="subtitle">HOOLIAM</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>When the spring days came around, Stonor, whose business it was to keep
+watch on such things, began to perceive an undercurrent of waywardness
+among the Indians and breeds of the post. Teachers know how an epidemic
+of naughtiness will sweep a class; this was much the same thing. There
+was no actual outbreak; it was chiefly evinced in defiant looks and an
+impudent swagger. It was difficult to trace back, for the red people
+hang together solidly; a man with even a trace of red blood will rarely
+admit a white man into the secrets of the race. Under questioning they
+maintain a bland front that it is almost impossible to break down.
+Stonor had long ago learned the folly of trying to get at what he wanted
+by direct questioning.</p>
+
+<p>He finally, as he thought, succeeded in locating the source of the
+infection at Carcajou Point. Parties from the post rode up there with
+suspicious frequency, and came back with a noticeably lowered moral
+tone, licking their lips, so to speak. All the signs pointed to whisky.</p>
+
+<p>At dawn of a morning in May, Stonor, without having advertised his
+intention, set off for Carcajou on horseback. The land trail cut across
+a wide sweep of the river, and on horseback one could make it in a day,
+whereas it was a three days&rsquo; paddle up-stream. Unfortunately he couldn&rsquo;t
+take them by surprise, for Carcajou was on the other side of the river
+from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> Enterprise, and Stonor must wait on the shore until they came over
+after him.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he left the buildings of the post behind him Stonor&rsquo;s heart
+was greatly lifted up. It was his first long ride of the season. The
+trail led him through the poplar bush back to the bench, thence in a
+bee-line across the prairie. The sun rose as he climbed the bench. The
+prairie was not the &ldquo;bald-headed&rdquo; so dear to those who know it, but was
+diversified with poplar bluffs, clumps of willow, and wild-rose-scrub in
+the hollows. The crocuses were in bloom, the poplar trees hanging out
+millions of emerald pendants, and the sky showed that exquisite, tender
+luminousness that only the northern sky knows when the sun travels
+towards the north. Only singing-birds were lacking to complete the idyl
+of spring. Stonor, all alone in a beautiful world, lifted up his voice
+to supply the missing praise.</p>
+
+<p>Towards sunset he approached the shore of the river opposite Carcajou
+Point, but as he didn&rsquo;t wish to arrive at night, he camped within
+shelter of the woods. In the morning he signalled for a boat. They came
+after him in a dug-out, and he swam his horse across.</p>
+
+<p>A preliminary survey of the place revealed nothing out of the way. The
+people who called themselves Beaver Indians were in reality the
+scourings of half the tribes in the country, and it is doubtful if there
+was an individual of pure red race among them. Physically they were a
+sad lot, for Nature revenges herself swiftly on the offspring of
+hybrids. Quaint ethnological differences were exhibited in the same
+family; one brother would have a French physiognomy, another a Scottish
+cast of feature, and a third the thick lips and flattened nose of a
+negro. Their village was no less nondescript than its inhabitants,
+merely a straggling row of shacks, thrown together anyhow, and roofed
+with sods, now putting forth a brave growth of weeds. These<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> houses were
+intended for a winter residence only. In summer they &ldquo;pitched around.&rdquo;
+At present they were putting their dug-outs and canoes in order for a
+migration.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was received on the beach by Shose (Joseph) Cardinal, a fine,
+up-standing ancient of better physique than his sons and grandsons. In a
+community of hairless men he was further distinguished by a straggling
+grey beard. His wits were beginning to fail, but not yet his cunning. He
+was extremely anxious to learn the reason for the policeman&rsquo;s coming.
+For Stonor to tell him would have been to defeat his object; to lie
+would have been to lower himself in their eyes; so Stonor took refuge in
+an inscrutability as polite as the old man&rsquo;s own.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor made a house-to-house canvass of the village, inquiring as to the
+health and well-being of each household, as is the custom of his
+service, and keeping his eyes open on his own account. He satisfied
+himself that if there had been whisky there, it was drunk up by now.
+Some of the men showed the sullen depressed air that follows on a
+prolonged spree, but all were sober at present.</p>
+
+<p>He was in one of the last houses of the village, when, out of the tail
+of his eye, he saw a man quietly issue from the house next in order,
+and, covered by the crowd around the door, make his way back to a house
+already visited. Stonor, without saying anything, went back to that
+house and found himself face to face with a young white man, a stranger,
+who greeted him with an insolent grin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; demanded the policeman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hooliam.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have a white man&rsquo;s name. What is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Smith&rdquo;&mdash;this with inimitable insolence, and a look around that bid for
+the applause of the natives.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor&rsquo;s lip curled at the spectacle of a white man&rsquo;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> thus lowering
+himself. &ldquo;Come outside,&rdquo; he said sternly. &ldquo;I want to talk to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way to a place apart on the river bank, and the other, not
+daring to defy him openly, followed with a swagger. With a stern glance
+Stonor kept the tatterdemalion crowd at bay. Stonor coolly surveyed his
+man in the sunlight and saw that he was not white, as he had supposed,
+but a quarter or eighth breed. He was an uncommonly good-looking young
+fellow in the hey-day of his youth, say, twenty-six. With his clear
+olive skin, straight features and curly dark hair he looked not so much
+like a breed as a man of one of the darker peoples of the Caucasian
+race, an Italian or a Greek. There was a falcon-like quality in the
+poise of his head, in his gaze, but the effect was marred by the
+consciousness of evil, the irreconcilable look in the fine eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bad clear through!&rdquo; was Stonor&rsquo;s instinctive verdict.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did you come from?&rdquo; he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Up river,&rdquo; was the casual reply. The man&rsquo;s English was as good as
+Stonor&rsquo;s own.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Answer me fully.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From Sah-ko-da-tah prairie, if you know where that is. I came into that
+country by way of Grande Prairie. I came from Winnipeg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor didn&rsquo;t believe a word of this, but had no means of confuting the
+man on the spot. &ldquo;How long have you been here?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A week or so. I didn&rsquo;t keep track.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is your business here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m looking for a job.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Among the Beavers? Why didn&rsquo;t you come to the trading-post?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was coming, but they tell me John Gaviller&rsquo;s a hard man to work fer.
+Thought I better keep clear of him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>&ldquo;Gaviller&rsquo;s the only employer of labour hereabouts. If you don&rsquo;t like
+him you&rsquo;ll have to look elsewhere.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can take up land, can&rsquo;t I?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not here. This is treaty land. Plenty of good surveyed homesteads
+around the post.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thanks. I prefer to pick my own location.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give you your choice. You can either come down to the post where I
+can keep an eye on your doings, or go back up the river where you came
+from.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you call this a free country?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind that. You&rsquo;re getting off easy. If you&rsquo;d rather, I&rsquo;ll put you
+under arrest and carry you down to the post for trial.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On what charge?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Furnishing whisky to the Indians.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a lie!&rdquo; cried the man, hoping to provoke Stonor into revealing the
+extent of his information.</p>
+
+<p>But the policeman shrugged, and remained mum.</p>
+
+<p>The other suddenly changed his front. &ldquo;All right, I&rsquo;ll go if I have to,&rdquo;
+he said, with a conciliatory air. &ldquo;To-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll leave within an hour,&rdquo; said Stonor, consulting his watch. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+see you off. Better get your things together.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The man still lingered, and Stonor saw an unspoken question in his eye,
+a desire to ingratiate himself. Now Stonor, under his stern port as an
+officer of the law, was intensely curious about the fellow. With his
+good looks, his impudent assurance, his command of English, he was a
+notable figure in that remote district. The policeman permitted himself
+to unbend a little.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you travelling in?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dug-out.&rdquo; Encouraged by the policeman&rsquo;s altered manner, the self-styled
+Hooliam went on, with an air of taking Stonor into his confidence:
+&ldquo;These niggers here are a funny lot, aren&rsquo;t they? Still believe in
+magic.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>&ldquo;In what way?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, they&rsquo;re always talking about a White Medicine Man who lives beside
+a river off to the north-west. Ernest Imbrie they call him. Do you know
+him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s been to the post, hasn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, how did he get into the country?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These people say he works magic.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if anyone wants to believe that&mdash;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do they say about him down at the post?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plenty of foolishness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t expect me to repeat foolish gossip, do you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, but what do you think about him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They say that Gaviller&rsquo;s lodged a complaint against him, and you&rsquo;re
+going out there to arrest him as soon as it&rsquo;s fit to travel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a lie. There&rsquo;s no complaint against the man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you are going out there, aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t discuss my movements with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That means you are going. Is it true he sent in a whole bale of silver
+foxes to the post?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Say, what&rsquo;s your interest in this man, anyway?&rdquo; said Stonor, losing
+patience.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing at all,&rdquo; said the breed carelessly. &ldquo;These Indians are always
+talking about him. It roused my curiosity, that&rsquo;s all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Suppose you satisfy my curiosity about yourself,&rdquo; suggested Stonor
+meaningly.</p>
+
+<p>The old light of impudent mockery returned to the comely dark face. &ldquo;Me?
+Oh, I&rsquo;m only a no-account hobo,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have to be getting ready
+now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>And so Stonor&rsquo;s curiosity remained unsatisfied. To have questioned the
+man further would only have been to lower his dignity. True, he might
+have arrested him, and forced him to give an account of himself, but the
+processes of justice are difficult and expensive so far north, and the
+policemen are instructed not to make arrests except when unavoidable. At
+the moment it did not occur to Stonor but that the man&rsquo;s questions about
+Imbrie were actuated by an idle curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>When the hour was up, the entire population of Carcajou Point gathered
+on the shore to witness Hooliam&rsquo;s departure. Stonor was there, too, of
+course, standing grimly apart from the rabble. Of what they thought of
+this summary deportation he could not be sure, but he suspected that if
+the whisky were all gone, they would not care much one way or the other.
+Hooliam was throwing his belongings in a dug-out of a different style
+from that used by the Beavers. It was ornamented with a curved prow and
+stern, such as Stonor had not before seen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did you get that boat?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t steal it,&rdquo; answered Hooliam impudently. &ldquo;Traded my horse for
+it and some grub at Fort Cardigan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Cardigan was a Company post on the Spirit a hundred miles or so above
+the Crossing. Stonor saw that Hooliam was well provided with blankets,
+grub, ammunition, etc., and that it was not Company goods.</p>
+
+<p>When Hooliam was ready to embark, he addressed the crowd in an Indian
+tongue which strongly resembled Beaver, which Stonor spoke, but had
+different inflections. Freely translated, his words were:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I go, men. The moose-berry (<span class="foreign" lang="la">i. e.</span>, red-coat) wills it. I don&rsquo;t like
+moose-berries. Little juice and much stone. To eat moose-berries draws a
+man&rsquo;s mouth up like a tobacco-bag when the string is pulled.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They laughed, with deprecatory side-glances at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> policeman. They were
+not aware that he spoke their tongue. Stonor had no intention of letting
+them know it, and kept an inscrutable face. They pushed off the dug-out,
+and Hooliam, with a derisive wave of the hand, headed up river. All
+remained on the shore, and Stonor, seeing that they expected something
+more of Hooliam, remained also.</p>
+
+<p>He had gone about a third of a mile when Stonor saw him bring the
+dug-out around and ground her on the beach. He made no move to get out,
+but a woman appeared from out of the shrubbery and got in. She was too
+far away for Stonor to distinguish anything of her features; her figure
+looked matronly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; he asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Several voices answered. &ldquo;Hooliam&rsquo;s woman. Hooliam got old woman for his
+woman&rdquo;&mdash;with scornful laughter. Now that Hooliam was gone, they were
+prepared to curry favour with the policeman.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was careful not to show the uneasiness he felt. This was his
+first intimation that Hooliam had a companion. He considered following
+him in another dug-out, but finally decided against it. The fact that he
+had taken the woman aboard in plain sight smacked merely of bravado. A
+long experience of the red race had taught Stonor that they love to
+shroud their movements in mystery from the whites, and that in their
+most mysterious acts there is not necessarily any significance.</p>
+
+<p>Hooliam, with a wave of his paddle, resumed his journey, and presently
+disappeared around a bend. Stonor turned on his heel and left the beach,
+followed by the people. They awaited his next move somewhat
+apprehensively, displaying an anxiety to please which suggested bad
+consciences. Stonor, however, contented himself with offering some
+private admonitions to Shose Cardinal, who seemed to take them in good
+part. He then prepared to return to the post. The people speeded his
+departure with relieved faces.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>That night Stonor camped on the prairie half-way home. As he lay wooing
+sleep under the stars, his horse cropping companionably near by, a new
+thought caused him to sit up suddenly in his blankets.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He mentioned the name Ernest Imbrie. The Indians never call him
+anything but the White Medicine Man. And even if they had picked up the
+name Imbrie at the post, they never speak of a man by his Christian
+name. If they had heard the name Ernest I doubt if they could pronounce
+it. Sounds as if he knew the name beforehand. Queer if there should be
+any connection there. I wish I hadn&rsquo;t let him go so easily.&mdash;Oh, well,
+it&rsquo;s too late to worry about it now. The steamboat will get to the
+Crossing before he does. I&rsquo;ll drop a line to Lambert to keep an eye on
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III
+<span class="subtitle">THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>At Fort Enterprise a busy time followed. The big steamboat (&ldquo;big&rdquo; of
+course only for lack of anything bigger than a launch to compare with)
+had to be put in the water and outfitted, and the season&rsquo;s catch of fur
+inventoried, baled and put aboard. By Victoria Day all was ready. They
+took the day off to celebrate with games and oratory (chiefly for the
+benefit of the helpless natives) followed by a big bonfire and dance at
+Simon Grampierre&rsquo;s up the river.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning the steamboat departed up-stream, taking Captain Stinson,
+Mathews, and most of the native employees of the post in her crew. Doc
+Giddings and Stonor watched her go, each with a little pain at the
+breast; she was bound towards the great busy world, world of infinite
+delight, of white women, lights, music, laughter and delicate feasting;
+in short, to them the world of romance. They envied the very bales of
+fur aboard that were bound for the world&rsquo;s great market-places. On the
+other hand, John Gaviller watched the steamboat go with high
+satisfaction. To him she represented Profit. He never knew homesickness,
+because he was at home. For him the world revolved around Fort
+Enterprise. As for Gordon Strange, the remaining member of the quartette
+who watched her go, no one ever really knew what he thought.</p>
+
+<p>The days that followed were the dullest in the whole year. The natives
+had departed for their summer camps, and there was no one left around
+the post but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> the few breed farmers. To Stonor, who was twenty-seven
+years old, these days were filled with a strange unrest; for the coming
+of summer with its universal blossoming was answered by a surge in his
+own youthful blood&mdash;and he had no safety-valve. A healthy instinct urged
+him to a ceaseless activity; he made a garden behind his quarters; he
+built a canoe (none of your clumsy dug-outs, but a well-turned
+Peterboro&rsquo; model sheathed with bass-wood); he broke the colts of the
+year. Each day he tired himself out and knew no satisfaction in his
+work, and each morning he faced the shining world with a kind of groan.
+Just now he had not even Tole Grampierre to talk to, for Tole, following
+the universal law, was sitting up with Berta Thomas.</p>
+
+<p>The steamboat&rsquo;s itinerary took her first to Spirit River Crossing, the
+point of departure for &ldquo;outside&rdquo; where she discharged her fur and took
+on supplies for the posts further up-stream. Proceeding up to Cardigan
+and Fort Cheever, she got their fur and brought it back to the Crossing.
+Then, putting on supplies for Fort Enterprise, she hustled down home
+with the current. It took her twelve days to mount the stream and six to
+return. Gaviller was immensely proud of the fact that she was the only
+thing in the North that ran on a pre-arranged schedule. He even sent out
+a timetable to the city for the benefit of intending tourists. She was
+due back at Enterprise on June 15th.</p>
+
+<p>When the morning of that day broke a delightful excitement filled the
+breasts of those left at the post. As in most Company establishments, on
+the most prominent point of the river-bank stood a tall flagstaff, with
+a little brass cannon at its foot. The flag was run up and the cannon
+loaded, and every five minutes during the day some one would be running
+out to gaze up the river. Only Gaviller affected to be calm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re wasting your time,&rdquo; he would say. &ldquo;Stinson tied up at Tar Island
+last night. If he comes right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> down he&rsquo;ll be here at three forty-five;
+and if he has to land at Carcajou for wood it will be near supper-time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The coming of the steamboat always held the potentialities of a dramatic
+surprise, for they had no telegraph to warn them of whom or what she was
+bringing. This year they expected quite a crowd. In addition to their
+regular visitors, Duncan Seton, the Company inspector, and Bishop
+Trudeau on his rounds, the government was sending in a party of
+surveyors to lay off homesteads across the river, and Mr. Pringle, the
+Episcopal missionary, was returning to resume his duties. An added spice
+of anticipation was lent by the fact that the latter was expected to
+bring his sister to keep house for him. There had been no white woman at
+Fort Enterprise since the death of Mrs. Gaviller many years before. But,
+as Miss Pringle was known to be forty years old, the excitement on her
+account was not undue. Her mark would be Gaviller, the younger men said,
+affecting not to notice the trader&rsquo;s annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>Gaviller had put a big boat&rsquo;s whistle on his darling <span class="boatname">Spirit River</span>, and
+the mellow boom of it brought them on a run out of the store before she
+hove in sight around the islands in front of Grampierre&rsquo;s. Gaviller had
+his binoculars. He could no longer keep up his pretence of calmness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Three twenty-eight!&rdquo; he cried, excitedly. &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I tell you! Who says
+we can&rsquo;t keep time up here! She&rsquo;ll run her plank ashore at three
+forty-five to the dot!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There she is!&rdquo; they cried, as she poked her nose around the islands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good old tub!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By God! she&rsquo;s a pretty sight&mdash;white as a swan!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And floats like one!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some class to that craft, sir!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Gaviller was nervously focussing his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+binoculars. &ldquo;By Golly! there&rsquo;s a big crowd on deck!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Must be
+ten or twelve beside the crew!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can you see the petticoat?&rdquo; asked Doc Giddings. &ldquo;Gee! I hope she can
+cook!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait a minute! Yes&mdash;there she is!&mdash;Hello! By God, boys, there&rsquo;s two of
+them!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go on, you&rsquo;re stringing us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The other must be a breed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, she&rsquo;s got a white woman&rsquo;s hat on, a stylish hat. And now I can
+see her white face!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John, for the lova Mike let me look!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the trader held him off obdurately. &ldquo;I believe she&rsquo;s young. She&rsquo;s a
+little woman beside the other. I believe she&rsquo;s good-looking! All the men
+are crowding around her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor&rsquo;s heart set up an unaccountable beating. &ldquo;Ah, it&rsquo;ll be the wife
+of one of the surveyors,&rdquo; he said, with the instinct of guarding against
+a disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir! If her husband was aboard the other men wouldn&rsquo;t be crowding
+around like that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No single woman under forty would dare venture up here. She&rsquo;d be
+mobbed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Might be a pleasant sort of experience for her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Doc Giddings had at last secured possession of the glasses. &ldquo;She <em>is</em>
+good-looking!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Glory be, she&rsquo;s a peach! I can see her smile!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boat was soon close enough for the binoculars to be dispensed with.
+To Stonor the whole picture was blurred, save for the one slender,
+fragile figure clad in the well-considered dress of a lady, perfect in
+detail. Of her features he was aware at first only of a beaming, wistful
+smile that plucked at his <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;heart-strings&rdquo;'>heartstrings</ins> with a
+strange sharpness. Even at that distance she gave out something that
+changed him for ever, and he knew it. He gazed, entirely self-forgetful,
+with rapt eyes and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> parted lips that would have caused the other men to
+shout with laughter&mdash;had they not been gazing, too. The man who dwells
+in a world full of charming women never knows what they may mean to a
+man. Let him be exiled, and he&rsquo;ll find out. In that moment the
+smouldering uneasiness which had made Stonor a burden to himself of late
+burst into flame, and he knew what was the matter. He beheld his desire.</p>
+
+<p>As the steamboat swept by below them, Stonor automatically dipped the
+flag, and Gaviller touched off the old muzzle-loader, which vented a
+magnificent roar for its size. The whistle replied. The <span class="boatname">Spirit River</span>
+waltzed gracefully around in the stream, and, coming back against the
+current, pushed her nose softly into the mud of the strand. They ran
+down to meet her. Hawsers were passed ashore and made fast, and the
+plank run out.</p>
+
+<p>Gaviller and the others went aboard, and first greetings were exchanged
+on the forward deck of the steamboat. Stonor, afflicted with a sudden
+diffidence, hung in the background. He wished to approach her by
+degrees. Meanwhile he was taking her in. He scarcely dared look at her
+directly, but his gaze thirstily drank in her outlying details, so to
+speak. Her small, well-shod feet were marvellous to him; likewise her
+exquisite silken ankles. He observed that she walked with stiff, short,
+delicate steps, like a high-bred filly. He was enchanted with the
+slight, graceful gesticulation of her gloved hand. When he finally
+brought himself to look at her eyes he was not disappointed; deep blue
+were they, steady, benignant, and of a heart-disquieting wistfulness.
+Other items, by the way, were a little straight nose, absurd and
+lovable, and lips fresh and bright as a child&rsquo;s. All the men were
+standing about her with deferential bared heads, and the finest thing
+(in Stonor&rsquo;s mind) was that she displayed no self-consciousness in this
+trying situation; none of the cooings, the gurglings,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> the flirtatious
+flutterings that bring the sex into disrepute. Her back was as straight
+as a plucky boy&rsquo;s and her chin up like the same.</p>
+
+<p>When Stonor saw that his turn was approaching to be introduced, he was
+seized outright with panic. He slipped inside the vessel and made his
+way back to where the engineer was wiping his rods. He greeted Mathews
+with a solicitude that surprised the dour Scotchman. He stood there
+making conversation until he heard everybody in the bow go ashore.
+Afterwards he was seized with fresh panic upon realizing that delaying
+the inevitable introduction could not but have the effect of singling
+him out and making him more conspicuous when it came about.</p>
+
+<p>John Gaviller carried Miss Pringle and the charming unknown up to the
+clap-boarded villa until the humble shack attached to the English
+mission could be made fit to receive them. Stonor went for a long walk
+to cool his fevered blood. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself. By
+his timidity, not to use a stronger word, he had lost precious hours;
+indeed, now that he had missed his first opportunity, he might be
+overlooked altogether. The other men would not be likely to help him out
+at all. A cold chill struck to his breast at the thought. He resolved to
+march right up to the guns of her eyes on his return. But he made a
+score of conflicting resolutions in the course of his walk. Meanwhile he
+didn&rsquo;t yet know whether she were Miss or Mrs., or what was her errand at
+Fort Enterprise. True, he could have gone back and asked any of the men
+who came on the boat, but nothing in the world could have induced him to
+speak of her to anyone just then.</p>
+
+<p>When he got back, it was to find the post in a fever of preparation.
+John Gaviller had asked every white man to his house to dinner to meet
+the ladies. It was to be a real &ldquo;outside&rdquo; dinner party, and there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+sudden, frantic demand for collars, cravats and presentable foot-wear.
+Nobody at the post had a dress-suit but Gaviller himself.</p>
+
+<p>Of them all only Stonor had no sartorial problems; his new uniform and
+his Strathcona boots polished according to regulations were all he had
+and all he needed. He surveyed the finished product in his little mirror
+with strong dissatisfaction. &ldquo;Ornery-looking cuss,&rdquo; he thought. But a
+man is no judge of his own looks. A disinterested observer might have
+given a different verdict. A young man less well favoured by nature
+would have gazed at Stonor&rsquo;s long-limbed ease with helpless envy. He had
+that rare type of figure that never becomes encumbered with fat. The
+grace of youth and the strength of maturity met there. He would make a
+pattern colonel if he lived. Under the simple lines of his uniform one
+apprehended the ripple and play of unclogged muscles. If all men were
+like Stonor the tailor&rsquo;s task would be a sinecure.</p>
+
+<p>As to his face, mention has already been made of the sober gaze
+lightened by a suggestion of sly mirthfulness. In a company where
+sprightliness was the great desideratum, Stonor, no doubt, would have
+been considered slow. Men with strong reserves are necessarily a little
+slow in coming into action; they are apt, too, as a decent cover for
+their feelings, to affect more slowness than they feel. A woman can
+rarely look at that kind of man without feeling a secret desire to rouse
+him; there is so clearly something to rouse. It was Stonor&rsquo;s hair which
+had given rise to the quaint name the native maidens had applied to him,
+the &ldquo;Gold-piece.&rdquo; It was not yellow hair, as we call it, but a shiny
+light brown, and under the savage attack of his brushes the shine was
+accentuated.</p>
+
+<p>The guests were received in the drawing-room of Enterprise House, which
+was rarely opened nowadays. It had a charming air of slightly
+old-fashioned gentility, just as its dead mistress had left it, and the
+rough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> Northerners came in with an abashed air. John Gaviller,
+resplendent in the dress-suit, stood by the piano, with the little lady
+on one hand and the large lady on the other, and one after another the
+men marched up and made their obeisances. The actual introduction proved
+to be not so terrible an ordeal as Stonor had feared&mdash;or perhaps it is
+more proper to say, that it was so terrible he was numbed and felt
+nothing. It was all over in a minute. &ldquo;Miss Starling!&rdquo; the name rang
+through his consciousness like the sound of silver bells.</p>
+
+<p>Face to face Stonor saw her but dimly through the mist of too much
+feeling. She treated him exactly the same as the others, that is to say,
+she was kind, smiling, interested, and personally inscrutable. Stonor
+was glad that there was another man pressing close at his heels, for he
+felt that he could stand no more just then. He was passed on to Miss
+Pringle. Of this lady it need only be said that she was a large-size
+clergyman&rsquo;s sister, a good soul, pious and kindly. She has little to do
+with this tale.</p>
+
+<p>In Stonor&rsquo;s eyes she proved to have a great merit, for she was disposed
+to talk exclusively about Miss Starling. Stonor&rsquo;s ears were long for
+that. From her talk he gathered three main facts: (a) that Miss
+Starling&rsquo;s given name was Clare (enchanting syllable!); (b) that the two
+ladies had become acquainted for the first time on the way into the
+country; (c) that Miss Starling was going back with the steamboat. &ldquo;Of
+course!&rdquo; thought Stonor, with his heart sinking slowly like a
+water-logged branch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t she plucky!&rdquo; said Miss Pringle enthusiastically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She looks it,&rdquo; said Stonor, with a sidelong glance at the object of her
+encomium.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To make this trip, I mean, all by herself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it just to see the country?&rdquo; asked Stonor diffidently.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t you know? She&rsquo;s on the staff of the <span class="title">Winnipeg News-Herald</span>,
+and is writing up the trip for her paper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor instantly made up his mind to spend his next leave in Winnipeg.
+His relief was due in October.</p>
+
+<p>John Gaviller could do things in good style when he was moved to it. The
+table was gay with silver under candle-light. Down the centre were
+placed great bowls of painter&rsquo;s brush, the rose of the prairies. And
+with the smiling ladies to grace the head of the board, it was like a
+glimpse of a fairer world to the men of the North. Miss Pringle was on
+Gaviller&rsquo;s right, Miss Starling on his left. Stonor was about half-way
+down the table, and fortunately on the side opposite the younger lady,
+where he could gaze his fill.</p>
+
+<p>She was wearing a pink evening dress trimmed with silver, that to
+Stonor&rsquo;s unaccustomed eyes seemed like gossamer and moonshine. He was
+entranced by her throat and by the appealing loveliness of her thin
+arms. &ldquo;How could I ever have thought a fat woman beautiful!&rdquo; he asked
+himself. She talked with her arms and her delightfully restless
+shoulders. Stonor had heard somewhere that this was a sign of a warm
+heart. For the first time he had a view of her hair; it was dark and
+warm and plentiful, and most cunningly arranged.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was totally unaware of what he was eating. From others, later, he
+learned of the triumph of the kitchen&mdash;and all at three hours&rsquo; notice.
+Fortunately for him, everybody down the table was hanging on the talk at
+the head, so that no efforts in that direction were required of him. He
+was free to listen and dream.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Somewhere in the world there is a man who will be privileged some day
+to sit across the table from her at every meal! Not in a crowd like
+this, but at their own table in their own house. Probably quite an
+ordinary fellow, too, certainly not worthy of his luck. With her eyes
+for him alone, and her lovely white arms!&mdash;While<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> other men are batching
+it alone. Things are not evenly divided in this world, for sure! If that
+man went to hell afterwards it wouldn&rsquo;t any more than square things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In answer to a question he heard her say: &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t ask me about
+Winnipeg! All cities are so ordinary and usual! I want to hear about
+your country. Tell me stories about the fascinating silent places.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, as it happens,&rdquo; said Gaviller, speaking slowly to give his words
+a proper effect, &ldquo;we have a first-class mystery on hand just at
+present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, tell me all about it!&rdquo; she said, as he meant her to.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A fellow, a white man, has appeared from nowhere at all, and set
+himself up beside the Swan River, an unexplored stream away to the
+north-west of here. There he is, and no one knows how he got there.
+We&rsquo;ve never laid eyes on him, but the Indians bring us marvellous tales
+of his &lsquo;strong medicine,&rsquo; meaning magic, you know. They say he first
+appeared from under the great falls of the Swan River. They describe him
+as a sort of embodiment of the voice of the Falls, but we suspect there
+is a more natural explanation, because he sends into the post for the
+food of common humans, and gets a bundle of magazines and papers by
+every mail. They come addressed to Doctor Ernest Imbrie. Our poor Doc
+here is as jealous as a cat of his reputation as a healer!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Gaviller was rewarded with a general laugh, in which her silvery tones
+were heard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, tell me more about him!&rdquo; she cried.</p>
+
+<p>Of all the men who were watching her there was not one who observed any
+change in her face. Afterwards they remembered this with wonder. Yet
+there was something in her voice, her manner, the way she kept her chin
+up perhaps, that caused each man to think as her essential quality:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s game!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The whole story of Imbrie as they knew it was told, with all the
+embroidery that had been unconsciously added during the past months.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV
+<span class="subtitle">MORE ABOUT CLARE</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Determined to make the most of their rare feminine visitation at Fort
+Enterprise, on the following day the fellows got up a chicken hunt on
+the river bottom east of the post, to be followed by an <span class="foreign" lang="it">al fresco</span>
+supper at which broiled chicken was to be the <span class="foreign" lang="fr">pi&egrave;ce de resistance</span>. The
+ladies didn&rsquo;t shoot any prairie chicken, but they stimulated the hunters
+with their presence, and afterwards condescended to partake of the
+delicate flesh.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, though he was largely instrumental in getting the thing up, and
+though he worked like a Trojan to make the affair go, still kept himself
+personally in the background. He consorted with Captain Stinson and
+Mathews, middle-aged individuals who were considered out of the running.
+It was not so much shyness now, as an instinct of self-preservation.
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;ll be gone in a week,&rdquo; he told himself. &ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t let this thing
+get too strong a hold on you, or life here after she has gone will be
+hellish. You&rsquo;ve got to put her out of your mind, my son&mdash;or just keep
+her as a lovely dream not to be taken in earnest. Hardly likely, after
+seeing the world, that she&rsquo;d look twice at a sergeant of police!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In his innocence Stonor adopted the best possible way of attracting her
+attention to himself. More than once, when he was not looking, her eyes
+sought him out curiously. In answer to her questions of the other men it
+appeared that it was Stonor who had sent the natives out in advance to
+drive the game past them: it was Stonor who surprised them with a cloth
+already spread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> under a poplar tree: it was Stonor who cooked the birds
+so deliciously. She was neither vain nor silly, but at the same time in
+a company where every man lay down at her feet, so to speak, and begged
+her to tread on him, it could not but seem peculiar to her that the
+best-looking man of them all should so studiously avoid her.</p>
+
+<p>Next day they all crossed the river and rode up to Simon Grampierre&rsquo;s
+place, where the half-breeds repeated the Victoria Day games for the
+amusement of the visitors. (These days are still talked of at Fort
+Enterprise.) Stonor was finally induced to give an exhibition of
+high-school riding as taught to the police recruits, and thereby threw
+all the other events in the shade. But their plaudits overwhelmed him.
+He disappeared and was seen no more that day.</p>
+
+<p>Sunday followed. Mr. Pringle and his sister had got the little church in
+order, and services were held there for the first time in many months.
+The mission was half a mile east of the Company buildings, and after
+church they walked home beside the fields of sprouting grain, in a
+comfortable Sabbath peace that was much the same at Enterprise as
+elsewhere in the world.</p>
+
+<p>The procession travelled in the following order: First, four surveyors
+marching with their heads over their shoulders, at imminent risk of an
+undignified stumble in the trail; next, Clare Starling, flanked on one
+side by Gaviller, on the other by Doc Giddings, with two more surveyors
+on the outlying wings, peering forward to get a glimpse of her; then
+Captain Stinson, Mathews, and Sergeant Stonor in a line, talking about
+the state of the crops, and making believe to pay no attention to what
+was going on ahead; lastly, Mr. Pringle and his sister hurrying to catch
+up.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way home Miss Starling, <span class="foreign" lang="fr">&agrave; propos</span> of nothing, suddenly stopped and
+turned her head. &ldquo;Sergeant Stonor,&rdquo; she said. He stepped to her side.
+Since she clearly showed in her manner that she intended holding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
+converse with the policeman, there was nothing for Gaviller <span class="foreign" lang="la">et al.</span> to
+do but proceed, which they did with none too good a grace. This left
+Stonor and the girl walking together in the middle of the procession.
+Stinson and Mathews, who were supposed to be out of it anyway, winked at
+each other portentously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wanted to ask you about that horse you rode yesterday, a beautiful
+animal. What do you call him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Miles Aroon,&rdquo; said Stonor, like a wooden man. He dreaded that she meant
+to go on and enlarge on his riding tricks. In his modesty he now
+regarded that he had made an awful ass of himself the day before. But
+she stuck to horse-flesh.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a beauty! Would he let me ride him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes! He has no bad tricks. I broke him myself. But of course he
+knows nothing of side-saddles.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ride astride.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe we&rsquo;re all going for a twilight ride to-night. I&rsquo;ll bring him
+for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As a result of this Stonor&rsquo;s praiseworthy resolutions to keep out of
+harm&rsquo;s way were much weakened. Indeed, late that night in his little
+room in quarters he gave himself up to the most outrageous dreams of a
+possible future happiness. Stonor was quite unversed in the ways of
+modern ladies; all his information on the subject had been gleaned from
+romances, which, as everybody knows, are always behind the times in such
+matters, and it is possible that he banked too much on the simple fact
+of her singling him out on the walk home.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great obstacle in his way; the force sets its face against
+matrimony during the term of service. Stonor in his single-mindedness
+never thought that there were other careers. &ldquo;I shall have to get a
+commission,&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;An inspectorship is little enough to offer
+her. But what an ornament she&rsquo;d be to a post! And she&rsquo;d love the life;
+she loves horses. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> Lord! it&rsquo;s difficult nowadays, with nothing going
+on. If an Indian war would only break out!&rdquo;&mdash;He was quite ready to
+sacrifice the unfortunate red race.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday night he was again bidden to dine at Enterprise House. As
+Gaviller since the day before had been no more than decently polite,
+Stonor ventured to hope that the invitation might have been instigated
+by her. At any rate he was placed by her side this time, where he sat a
+little dizzy with happiness, and totally oblivious to food. At the same
+time it should be understood that the young lady had no veiled glances
+or hidden meanings for him alone; she treated him, as she did all the
+others, to perfect candour.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner they had music in the drawing-room. The piano was
+grotesquely out of tune, but what cared they for that? She touched it
+and their souls were drawn out of their bodies. Probably the performer
+suffered, but she played on with a smile. They listened entranced until
+darkness fell, and when it is dark at Enterprise in June it is high time
+to go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>They all accompanied Stonor to the door. The long-drawn summer dusk of
+the North is an ever fresh wonder to newcomers. At sight of the
+exquisite half-light and the stars an exclamation of pleasure broke from
+Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Much too fine a night to go to bed!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Sergeant Stonor, take
+me out to the bench beside the flagstaff for a few minutes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As they sat down she said: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you want to smoke?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t feel the need of it,&rdquo; he said. His voice was husky with feeling.
+Would a man want to smoke in Paradise?</p>
+
+<p>By glancing down and sideways he could take her in as far up as her neck
+without appearing to stare rudely. She was sitting with her feet crossed
+and her hands in her lap like a well-bred little girl. When he dared
+glance at her eyes he saw that there was no consciousness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> him there.
+They were regarding something very far away. In the dusk the wistfulness
+which hid behind a smile in daylight looked forth fully and broodingly.</p>
+
+<p>Yet when she spoke the matter was ordinary enough. &ldquo;All the men here
+tell me about the mysterious stranger who lives on the Swan River. They
+can&rsquo;t keep away from the subject. And the funny part of it is, they all
+seem to be angry at him. Yet they know nothing of him. Why is that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It means nothing,&rdquo; said Stonor, smiling. &ldquo;You see, all the men pride
+themselves on knowing every little thing that happens in the country.
+It&rsquo;s all they have to talk about. In a way the whole country is like a
+village. Well, it&rsquo;s only because this man has succeeded in defying their
+curiosity that they&rsquo;re sore. It&rsquo;s a joke!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They tell me that you stand up for him,&rdquo; she said, with a peculiar
+warmth in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, just to make the argument interesting,&rdquo; said Stonor lightly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; she said, chilled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, to tell the truth, I was attracted to the man from the first,&rdquo; he
+said more honestly. &ldquo;By what the Indians said about his healing the sick
+and so on. And they said he was young. I have no friend of my own age up
+here&mdash;I mean no real friend. So I thought&mdash;well, I would like to know
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I like that,&rdquo; she said simply.</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you&mdash;sometime&mdash;go to him?&rdquo; she said, with what seemed almost
+like a breathless air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am going,&rdquo; said Stonor simply. &ldquo;I received permission in the last
+mail. The government wants me to look over the Kakisa Indians to see if
+they are ready for a treaty. The policy is to leave the Indians alone as
+long as they are able to maintain themselves under natural conditions.
+But as soon as they need help the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> government takes charge; limits them
+to a reservation; pays an annuity, furnishes medical attention, and so
+on. This is called taking treaty. The Kakisas are one of the last wild
+tribes left.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She seemed scarcely to hear him. &ldquo;When are you going?&rdquo; she asked with
+the same air of breathlessness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As soon as the steamboat goes back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How far is it to Swan River?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Something under a hundred and fifty miles. Three days&rsquo; hard riding or
+four days&rsquo; easy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And how far down to the great falls?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Accounts differ. From the known features of the map I should say about
+two hundred miles. They say the river&rsquo;s as crooked as a ram&rsquo;s horn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was another silence. She was busy with her own thoughts, and
+Stonor was content not to talk if he might look at her.</p>
+
+<p>With her next speech she seemed to strike off at a tangent. She spoke
+with a lightness that appeared to conceal a hint of pain. &ldquo;They say the
+mounted police are the guides, philosophers and friends of the people up
+North. They say you have to do everything, from feeding babies to
+reading the burial service.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid there&rsquo;s a good bit of romancing about the police,&rdquo; said
+Stonor modestly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But they do make good friends, don&rsquo;t they?&rdquo; she insisted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hope so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She gave him the full of her deep, starry eyes. It was not an
+intoxicating glance, but one that moved him to the depths. &ldquo;Will you be
+my friend?&rdquo; she asked simply.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Stonor! With too great a need for speech, speech itself was
+foundered. No words ever coined seemed strong enough to carry the weight
+of his desire to assure her. He could only look at her, imploring her to
+believe in him. In the end only two little words came;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> to him
+wretchedly inadequate; but it is doubtful if they could have been
+bettered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Try me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His look satisfied her. She lowered her eyes. The height of emotion was
+too great to be maintained. She cast round in her mind for something to
+let them down. &ldquo;How far to the north the sunset glow is now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor understood. He answered in the same tone: &ldquo;At this season it
+doesn&rsquo;t fade out all night. The sun is such a little way below the rim
+there, that the light just travels around the northern horizon, and
+becomes the dawn in a little while.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>For a while they talked of indifferent matters.</p>
+
+<p>By and by she said casually: &ldquo;When you go out to Swan River, take me
+with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He thought she was joking. &ldquo;I say, that would be a lark!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little nervously.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to keep it up, though his heart set up a furious beating at the
+bare idea of such a trip. &ldquo;Can you bake bannock?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can make good biscuits.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What would we do for a chaperon?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nobody has chaperons nowadays.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what a moral community this is!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I meant it,&rdquo; she said suddenly, in a tone there was no mistaking.</p>
+
+<p>All his jokes deserted him, and left him trembling a little. Indeed he
+was scandalized, too, being less advanced, probably, in his ideas than
+she. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s&mdash;it&rsquo;s impossible!&rdquo; he stammered at last.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why?&rdquo; she asked calmly.</p>
+
+<p>He could not give the real reason, of course. &ldquo;To take the trail, you!
+To ride all day and sleep on the hard ground! And the river trip, an
+unknown river with Heaven knows what rapids and other difficulties! A
+fragile little thing like you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>Opposition stimulated her. &ldquo;What you call my fragility is more apparent
+than real,&rdquo; she said with spirit. &ldquo;As a matter of fact I have more
+endurance than most big women. I have less to carry. I am accustomed to
+living and travelling in the open. I can ride all day&mdash;or walk if need
+be.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s impossible!&rdquo; he repeated. It was the policeman who spoke. The
+man&rsquo;s blood was leaping, and his imagination painting the most alluring
+pictures. How often on his lonely journeys had he not dreamed of the
+wild delights of such companionship!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is your real reason?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, how could you go&mdash;with me, you know?&rdquo; he said, blushing into the
+dusk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid,&rdquo; she answered instantly. &ldquo;Anyway, that&rsquo;s my look-out,
+isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have to think of it. The responsibility would be
+mine.&rdquo; Here the man broke through&mdash;&ldquo;Oh, I talk like a prig!&rdquo; he cried.
+&ldquo;But don&rsquo;t you see, I&rsquo;m not up here on my own. I can&rsquo;t do what I would
+like. A policeman has got to be proper, hasn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled at his <span class="foreign" lang="fr">na&iuml;vet&eacute;</span>. &ldquo;But if I have business out there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This sounded heartless to Stonor. It was the first and last time that he
+ventured to criticize her. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; he objected, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what reasons
+the poor fellow has for burying himself&mdash;they must be good reasons, for
+it&rsquo;s no joke to live alone! It doesn&rsquo;t seem quite fair, does it, to dig
+him out and write him up in the papers?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, what must you think of me!&rdquo; she murmured in a quick, hurt tone.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that he had made a mistake. &ldquo;I&mdash;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; he stammered
+contritely. &ldquo;I thought that was what you meant by business.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not a reporter,&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But they told me&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>&ldquo;Yes, I know, I lied. I&rsquo;m not apologizing for that. It was necessary to
+lie to protect myself from vulgar curiosity.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He looked his question.</p>
+
+<p>She was not quite ready to answer it yet. &ldquo;Suppose I had the best of
+reasons for going,&rdquo; she said, hurriedly, &ldquo;a reason that Mrs. Grundy
+would approve of; it would be your duty as a policeman, wouldn&rsquo;t it, to
+help me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She turned imploring eyes on him, and unconsciously clasped her hands.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure you&rsquo;re generous and steadfast,&rdquo; she said quickly. &ldquo;I can trust
+you, can&rsquo;t I, not to give me away? The gossip, the curious stares&mdash;it
+would be more than I could bear! Promise me, whatever you may think of
+it all, to respect my secret.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I promise,&rdquo; he said a little stiffly. It hurt him that he was required
+to protest his good faith. &ldquo;The first thing we learn in the force is to
+keep our mouths shut.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, now you&rsquo;re offended with me because I made you promise!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter. It&rsquo;s over now. What is your reason for wanting to go
+out to Swan River?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She answered low: &ldquo;I am Ernest Imbrie&rsquo;s wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Stonor in a flat tone. A sick disappointment filled him&mdash;yet
+in the back of his mind he had expected something of the kind. An inner
+voice whispered to him: &ldquo;Not for you! It was too much to hope for!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Presently she went on: &ldquo;I injured him cruelly. That&rsquo;s why he buried
+himself so far away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor turned horror-stricken eyes on her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, not that,&rdquo; she said proudly and indifferently. &ldquo;The injury I did
+him was to his spirit; that is worse.&rdquo; Stonor turned hot for his
+momentary suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can repair it by going to him,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;I <em>must</em> go to him. I
+can never know peace until I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> tried to make up to him a little of
+what I have made him suffer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She paused to give Stonor a chance to speak&mdash;but he was dumb.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally she misunderstood. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t that enough?&rdquo; she cried painfully.
+&ldquo;I have told you the essential truth. Must I go into particulars? I
+can&rsquo;t bear to speak of these things!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; he said, horrified. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not that. I don&rsquo;t want to hear any
+more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll help me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will take you to him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She began to cry in a pitiful shaken way.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; murmured Stonor. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t stand seeing you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s&mdash;just from relief,&rdquo; she whispered.&hellip; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been under a
+<ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;strain &hellip;&rdquo;'>strain.&hellip;</ins> I think I should have gone out of my mind&mdash;if I had been
+prevented from expiating the wrong I did.&hellip; I wish I could tell
+you&mdash;he&rsquo;s the bravest man in the world, I think&mdash;and the most
+unhappy!&hellip; And I heaped unhappiness on his head!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was hard for Stonor to listen to, but it was so obviously a relief
+to her to speak, that he made no attempt to stop her.</p>
+
+<p>She soon quieted down. &ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t try to thank you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll show
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor foresaw that the proposed journey would be attended with
+difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Would it be possible,&rdquo; she asked meekly, &ldquo;for you to plan to leave a
+day in advance of the steamboat, and say nothing about taking me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean for us to leave the post secretly?&rdquo; he said, a little aghast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When the truth came out it would be all right,&rdquo; she urged. &ldquo;And it
+would save me from becoming the object of general talk and commiseration
+here. Why,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> if Mr. Gaviller knew in advance, he&rsquo;d probably insist on
+sending a regular expedition.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps he would.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And they&rsquo;d all try to dissuade me. I&rsquo;d have to talk them over one by
+one&mdash;I haven&rsquo;t the strength of mind left for that. They&rsquo;d say I ought to
+wait here and send for him&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, wouldn&rsquo;t that be better?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! No! Not the same thing at all. I doubt if he&rsquo;d come. And what would
+I be doing here&mdash;waiting&mdash;without news. I couldn&rsquo;t endure it. I must go
+to him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor thought hard. Youth was pulling him one way, and his sense of
+responsibility the other. Moreover, this kind of case was not provided
+for in regulations. Finally he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t you announce your intention of remaining over for one trip of
+the steamboat? Miss Pringle would be glad to have you, I&rsquo;m sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I could do that. But you&rsquo;re not going to delay the start?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We can leave the day after the boat goes, as planned. But if we were
+missed before the boat left she&rsquo;d carry out some great scandalous tale
+that we might never be able to correct. For if scandal gets a big enough
+start you can never overtake it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are right, of course. I never thought of that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I see no objection to leaving the post secretly, provided you are
+willing to tell one reliable person in advance&mdash;say Pringle or his
+sister, of our intention. You see we must leave someone behind us to
+still the storm of gossip that will be let loose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You think of everything!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V
+<span class="subtitle">THE FIRST STAGE</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>For two days Stonor went about his preparations with an air of dogged
+determination. It seemed to him that all the light had gone out of his
+life, and hope was dead. He told himself that the proposed trip could
+not be otherwise than the stiffest kind of an ordeal to a man in his
+position, an ordeal calling for well-nigh superhuman self-control. How
+gladly would he have given it up, had he not given his word.</p>
+
+<p>And then on the third day his spirits unaccountably began to rise. As a
+matter of fact youthful spirits must seek their natural level no less
+surely than water, but Stonor was angry with himself, accusing himself
+of lightheadedness, inconstancy and what not. His spirits continued to
+rise just the same. There was a delight in providing everything possible
+for her comfort. The mere thought of going away with her, under any
+circumstances whatsoever, made his heart sing.</p>
+
+<p>John Gaviller was astonished by the size and variety of his requisition
+for supplies. Besides the customary rations Stonor included all the
+luxuries the store afforded: viz., tinned fish, vegetables and fruit;
+condensed milk, marmalade and cocoa. And in quantities double what he
+would ordinarily have taken.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Getting luxurious in your old age, aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; said the trader.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m tired of an unrelieved diet of bannock and beans,&rdquo; said Stonor,
+with a carelessness so apparent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> they ought to have been warned; but of
+course they never dreamed of anything so preposterous as the truth.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had two horses of his own. He engaged three more from Simon
+Grampierre, horses that he knew, and from Tole Grampierre purchased a
+fine rabbit-skin robe for Clare&rsquo;s bed on the trail. Tole, who had
+secretly hoped to be taken on this expedition, was much disappointed
+when no invitation was forthcoming. Stonor arranged with Tole to ride to
+meet him with additional supplies on the date when he might expect to be
+returning. Tole was to leave Enterprise on July 12th.</p>
+
+<p>From Father Goussard Stonor borrowed a mosquito tent on the plea that
+his own was torn. He smuggled a folding camp-cot into his outfit. Clare
+fortunately had brought suitable clothes for the most part. How well
+Stonor was to know that little suit cut like a boy&rsquo;s with Norfolk jacket
+and divided skirt! What additional articles she needed Miss Pringle
+bought at the store for a mythical destitute Indian boy. They had soon
+found it necessary to take Miss Pringle into their confidence. She went
+about charged with the secret like a soda-water-bottle with the cork
+wired down.</p>
+
+<p>Beside Gordon Strange, the only person around the post who could speak
+the Kakisa tongue was a woman, Mary Moosa, herself a Kakisa who had
+married a Cree. Her husband was a deck-hand on the steamboat. Stonor had
+already engaged Mary Moosa to take this trip with him as interpreter,
+and Mary, who had her own notions of propriety, had stipulated that her
+oldest boy be taken along. Mary herself promised to be a godsend on the
+trip; for she was just the comfortable dependable soul to look after
+Clare, but the boy now became a problem, for the dug-out that Stonor
+designed to use on the Swan River would only carry three persons
+comfortably, with the necessary outfit. Yet Stonor could not speak to
+Mary in advance about leaving the boy at home.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>Such was Stonor&rsquo;s assiduity that everything was ready for the start two
+days ahead of time&mdash;an unheard-of thing up North. Everybody at the post
+gave up a morning to seeing the steamboat off. She carried with her a
+report from Stonor to his inspector, telling of the proposed trip. Clare
+was among those who waved to her from the shore. No surprise had been
+occasioned by the announcement of her decision to remain over a trip.
+Gaviller was already planning further entertainments. She had by this
+time moved down to the Mission with the Pringles.</p>
+
+<p>On the afternoon of that day Stonor transported his goods and swam his
+horses across the river, to be ready for the start from the other side.
+Mary Moosa and her son met him there, and camped beside the outfit for
+the night. Stonor returned to Enterprise House for dinner. He had tried
+to get out of it, knowing that the fact of this dinner would rankle in
+the trader&rsquo;s breast afterwards, but Gaviller had insisted on giving him
+a send-off. It was not a happy affair, for three of the guests were
+wretchedly nervous. They could not help but see in their mind&rsquo;s eye
+Gaviller&rsquo;s expression of indignant astonishment when the news should be
+brought him next day.</p>
+
+<p>Gaviller further insisted on taking everybody down to the shore to see
+Stonor off, thus obliging the trooper to make an extra trip across the
+river and back in order to maintain the fiction. Stonor slept in his own
+camp for an hour, and then rowed down-stream and across, to land in
+front of the Mission.</p>
+
+<p>It is never perfectly dark at this season, and already day was beginning
+to break. Stonor climbed the bank, and showed himself at the top,
+knowing that they would be on the watch from within. The little grey log
+mission-house crouched in its neglected garden behind a fence of broken
+palings. But a touch of regeneration<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> was already visible in Miss
+Pringle&rsquo;s geranium slips in the windows, and her bits of white curtain.</p>
+
+<p>The door was silently opened, and the two women kissed in the entry.
+Stonor was never to forget that picture in the still grey light. Clare,
+clad in the little Norfolk suit and the boy&rsquo;s stout boots and hat,
+crossed the yard with the little mincing steps so characteristic of her,
+and therefore so charming to the man who waited. Her face was pale, her
+eyes bright. Miss Pringle stood in the doorway, massive and tearful, a
+hand pressed to her mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor&rsquo;s breast received a surprising wrench. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s like an elopement!&rdquo;
+he thought. &ldquo;Ah, if she <em>were</em> coming to me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled at him without speaking, and handed over her bag. Stonor
+closed the gate softly, and they made their way down the bank, and got
+in the boat.</p>
+
+<p>It was a good, stiff pull back against the current. They spoke little.
+Clare studied his grim face with some concern.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Regrets?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>He rested on his oars for a moment and his face softened. He smiled at
+her frankly&mdash;and ruefully. &ldquo;No regrets,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but a certain amount
+of anxiety.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His glance conveyed a good deal more than that&mdash;in spite of him. &ldquo;I love
+you with all my heart. Of course I clearly understand that you have
+nothing for me. I am prepared to see this thing through, no matter what
+the end means to me.&mdash;But be merciful!&rdquo; All this was in his look.
+Whether she got it or not, no man could have told. She looked away and
+dabbled her hand in the water.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Moosa was a self-respecting squaw who lived in a house with tables
+and chairs and went to church and washed her children with soap. In her
+plain black<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> cotton dress, the skirt cut very full to allow her to ride
+astride, her new moccasins and her black straw hat she made a figure of
+matronly tidiness if not of beauty. She was cooking when they arrived.
+Her inward astonishment, at beholding Stonor returning with the white
+girl who had created such a sensation at the post, can be guessed; but,
+true to her traditions, she betrayed nothing of it to the whites. After
+a single glance in their direction her gaze returned to the frying-pan.</p>
+
+<p>It was Stonor who was put out of countenance, &ldquo;Miss Starling is going
+with us,&rdquo; he said, with a heavy scowl.</p>
+
+<p>Mary made no comment on the situation, but continued gravely frying the
+flap-jacks to a delicate golden shade. Her son, aged about fourteen, who
+had less command over his countenance, stood in the background staring,
+with open eyes and mouth. It was a trying moment for Stonor and Clare.
+They discussed the prospects of a good day for the journey in rather
+strained voices.</p>
+
+<p>However, it proved that Mary&rsquo;s silence had neither an unfriendly nor a
+censorious intention. She merely required time to get her breath, so to
+speak. She transferred the flap-jacks from the pan to a plate, and,
+putting them in the ashes to keep hot, arose and came to Clare with
+extended hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How,&rdquo; she said, as she had been taught was manners to all.</p>
+
+<p>Clare took her hand with a right good will.</p>
+
+<p>It suddenly occurred to Mary that there was now no occasion for the boy
+to accompany them. Mary was a woman of few words. &ldquo;You go home,&rdquo; she
+said calmly.</p>
+
+<p>The boy broke into a howl of grief, proving that the delights of the
+road are much the same to boys, red or white.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor little fellow!&rdquo; said Clare.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>&ldquo;Too young for travel,&rdquo; said Mary, impassively. &ldquo;More trouble than
+help.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare wished to intercede for him with Stonor, but the trooper shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No room in the dug-out,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Toma Moosa departed along the shore with his arm over his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Mary was as good as a man on a trip. While Stonor and Clare ate she
+packed the horses, and Stonor had only to throw the hitch and draw it
+taut. Clare watched this operation with interest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They swell up just like babies when you&rsquo;re putting their bands on,&rdquo; she
+remarked.</p>
+
+<p>They were on the move shortly after sunrise, that is to say half-past
+three. As they rode away over the flat, each took a last look at the
+buildings of the post across the river, gilded by the horizontal rays,
+each wondering privately what fortune had in store for them before they
+should see the spot again.</p>
+
+<p>They passed the last little shack and the last patch of grain before
+anybody was astir. When they rode out into the open country everybody&rsquo;s
+spirits rose. There is nothing like taking the trail to lift up the
+heart&mdash;and on a June morning in the north! Troubles, heart-aches and
+anxieties were left behind with the houses. Even Mary Moosa beamed in
+her inscrutable way.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor experienced a fresh access of confidence, and proceeded to
+deceive himself all over again. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m cured!&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s
+nothing to mope about. She&rsquo;s my friend. Anything else is out of the
+question, and I will not think of it again. We&rsquo;ll just be good pals like
+two fellows. You can be a pal with the right kind of girl, and she is
+that.&mdash;But better than any fellow, she&rsquo;s so damn good to look at!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely park-like country with graceful, white-stemmed poplars
+standing about on the sward, and dark spruces in the hollows. The grass
+was starred with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> flowers. When Nature sets out to make a park her style
+has a charming abandon that no landscape-gardener can ever hope to
+capture. After they mounted the low bench the country rolled shallowly,
+flat in the prospect, with a single, long, low eminence, blue athwart
+the horizon ahead.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the divide between the Spirit and the Swan,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll
+cross it to-morrow. From here it looks like quite a mountain, but the
+ascent is so gradual we won&rsquo;t know we&rsquo;re over it until we see the water
+flowing the other way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare rode Miles Aroon, Stonor&rsquo;s sorrel gelding, and Stonor rode the
+other police horse, a fine dark bay. These two animals fretted a good
+deal at the necessity of accommodating their pace to the humble pack
+animals. These latter had a stolid inscrutable look like their native
+masters. One in particular looked so respectable and matter-of-fact that
+Clare promptly christened her Lizzie.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie proved to be a horse of a strong, bourgeois character. If her
+pack was not adjusted exactly to her liking, she calmly sat on her
+haunches in the trail until it was fixed. Furthermore, she insisted on
+bringing up the rear of the cavalcade. If she was put in the middle, she
+simply fell out until the others had passed. In her chosen place she
+proceeded to fall asleep, with her head hanging ever lower and feet
+dragging, while the others went on. Stonor, who knew the horse, let her
+have her way. There was no danger of losing her. When she awoke and
+found herself alone, she would come tearing down the trail, screaming
+for her beloved companions.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor rode at the head of his little company with a leg athwart his
+saddle, so he could hold converse with Clare behind.</p>
+
+<p>Pointing to the trail stretching ahead of them like an endless brown
+ribbon over prairie and through bush, he said: &ldquo;I suppose trails are the
+oldest things in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> America. Once thoroughly made they can never be
+effaced&mdash;except by the plough. You see, they never can run quite
+straight, though the country may be as flat as your hand, but the width
+never varies; three and a half hands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Travelling with horses is not all picnicking. Three times a day they
+have to be unpacked and turned out to <em>graze</em>, and three times <em>caught</em>
+and <em>packed again</em>; this in addition to the regular camp routine of
+pitching tents, rustling wood, cooking, etc. Clare announced her
+intention of taking over the cooking, but she found that baking biscuits
+over an open fire in a drizzle of rain, offered a new set of problems to
+the civilized cook, and Mary had to come to her rescue.</p>
+
+<p>During this, their first spell by the trail, Stonor was highly amused to
+watch Clare&rsquo;s way with Mary. She simply ignored Mary&rsquo;s discouraging
+red-skin stolidity, and assumed that they were sisters under their
+skins. She pretended that it was necessary for them to take sides
+against Stonor in order to keep the man in his place. It was not long
+before Mary was grinning broadly. Finally at some low-voiced sally of
+Clare&rsquo;s she laughed outright. Stonor had never heard her laugh before.
+Thereafter she was Clare&rsquo;s. Realizing that the wonderful white girl
+really wished to make friends, Mary offered her a doglike devotion that
+never faltered throughout the difficult days that followed.</p>
+
+<p>They slept throughout the middle part of the day, and later, the sky
+clearing, they rode until near sun-down in order to make a good
+water-hole that Mary knew of. When they had supped and made all snug for
+the night, Stonor let fall the piece of information that Mary was well
+known as a teller of tales at the Post. Clare gave her no peace then
+till she consented to tell a story. They sat in a row behind Stonor&rsquo;s
+little mosquito-bar, for the insects were abroad, with the fire burning
+before them, and Mary began.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>&ldquo;I tell you now how the people got the first medicine-pipe. This story
+is about Thunder. Thunder is everywhere. He roar in the mountains, he
+shout far out on the prairie. He strike the high rocks and they fall. He
+hit a tree and split it like with a big axe. He strike people and they
+die. He is bad. He like to strike down the tall things that stand. He is
+ver&rsquo; powerful. He is the most strong one. Sometimes he steals women.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Long tam ago, almost in the beginning, a man and his wife sit in their
+lodge when Thunder come and strike them. The man was not killed. At
+first he is lak dead, but <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;bambye&rdquo;'>bam-bye</ins> he rise up again and look
+around him. His wife not there. He say: &lsquo;Oh well, she gone to get wood
+or water,&rsquo; and he sit awhile. But when the sun had gone under, he go out
+and ask the people where she go. Nobody see her. He look all over camp,
+but not find her. Then he know Thunder steal her, and he go out alone on
+the hills and mak&rsquo; sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When morning come he get up and go far away, and he ask all the animals
+he meet where Thunder live. They laugh and not tell him. Wolf say: &lsquo;W&rsquo;at
+you think! We want go look for the one we fear? He is our danger. From
+others we can run away. From him there is no running. He strike and
+there we lie! Turn back! Go home! Do not look for the place of the
+feared one.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the man travel on. Travel very far. Now he come to a lodge, a funny
+lodge, all made of stone. Here live the raven chief. The man go in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Raven chief say: &lsquo;Welcome, friend. Sit down. Sit down.&rsquo; And food was
+put before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When he finish eating, Raven say: &lsquo;Why you come here?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;Thunder steal my wife away. I want find his place so I get
+her back.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Raven say: &lsquo;I think you be too scare to go in the lodge of that feared
+one. It is close by here. His lodge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> is made of stone like this, and
+hanging up inside are eyes&mdash;all the eyes of those he kill or steal away.
+He take out their eyes and hang them in his lodge. Now, will you enter?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;No. I am afraid. What man could look on such things of fear
+and live?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Raven say: &lsquo;No common man can. There is only one old Thunder fears.
+There is only one he cannot kill. It is I, the Raven. Now I will give
+you medicine and he can&rsquo;t harm you. You go enter there, and look among
+those eyes for your wife&rsquo;s eyes, and if you find them, tell that Thunder
+why you come, and make him give them to you. Here now is a raven&rsquo;s wing.
+You point it to him, and he jomp back quick. But if that is not strong
+enough, take this. It is an arrow, and the stick is made of elk-horn.
+Take it, I say, and shoot it through his lodge.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;Why make a fool of me? My heart is sad. I am crying.&rsquo; And he
+cover up his head with his blanket and cry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Raven say: &lsquo;Wah! You do not believe me! Come out, come out, and I make
+you believe!&rsquo; When they stand outside Raven ask: &lsquo;Is the home of your
+people far?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;Very far!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;How many days&rsquo; journey?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;My heart is sad. I not count the days. The berries grow and
+get ripe since I leave my lodge.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Raven say: &lsquo;Can you see your camp from here?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man think that is foolish question and say nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then the Raven rub some medicine on his eyes and say: &lsquo;Look!&rsquo; The man
+look and see his own camp. It was close. He see the people. He see the
+smoke rising from the lodges. And at that wonderful thing the man
+believe in the Raven&rsquo;s medicine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then Raven say: &lsquo;Now take the wing and the arrow and go get your
+wife.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>&ldquo;So the man take those things and go to Thunder&rsquo;s lodge. He go in and
+sit down by the door. Thunder sit inside and look at him with eyes of
+lightning. But the man look up and see those many pairs of eyes hanging
+up. And the eyes of his wife look at him, and he know them among all
+those others.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thunder ask in a voice that shake the ground: &lsquo;Why you come here?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;I looking for my wife that you steal from me. There hang her
+eyes!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thunder say: &lsquo;No man can enter my lodge and live!&rsquo; He get up to strike
+him. But the man point the raven&rsquo;s wing at him, and Thunder fall back on
+his bed and shiver. But soon he is better, and get up again. Then the
+man put the elk-horn arrow to his bow, and shoot it through the lodge of
+rock. Right through that lodge of rock it make a crooked hole and let
+the sunlight in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thunder cry out: &lsquo;Stop! You are stronger! You have the great medicine.
+You can have your wife. Take down her eyes.&rsquo; So the man cut the string
+that held them, and right away his wife stand beside him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thunder say: &lsquo;Now you know me. I have great power. I live here in
+summer, but when winter come I go far south where there is no winter.
+Here is my pipe. It is medicine. Take it and keep it. When I come in
+spring you fill and light this pipe, and you pray to me, you and all the
+people. Because I bring the rain which make the berries big and ripe. I
+bring the rain which make all things grow. So you must pray to me, you
+and all the people.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is how the people got the first medicine-pipe. It was long ago.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Mary went to her own little tent, and presently they heard her peaceful
+snoring. The sound had the effect of giving body to the immensity of
+stillness that sur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>rounded them and held them. Sitting beside Clare,
+looking out at the fire through the netting, Stonor felt his safeguards
+slipping fast. There they were, the two of them, to all intents alone in
+the world! How natural for them to draw close, and, while her head
+dropped on his shoulder, for his arm to slip around her slender form and
+hold her tight! He trembled a little, and his mouth went dry. If he had
+been visiting her he could have got out, but he couldn&rsquo;t put her out.
+There was nothing to do but sit tight and fight the thing. Moistening
+his lips, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s been a good day on the whole.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, splendid!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If one could only hit the trail for ever
+without being obliged to arrive at a destination, and take up the
+burdens of a stationary life!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor pondered on this answer. It sounded almost as if she dreaded
+coming to the end of her journey.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the breathless dusk came a long-drawn and inexpressibly mournful
+ululation. Clare involuntarily drew a little closer to Stonor. Ah, but
+it was hard to keep from seizing her then!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wolves?&rdquo; she asked in an awe-struck tone.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;Only the wolf&rsquo;s little mongrel brother, coyote,&rdquo; he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All my travelling has been done in the mountains,&rdquo; she explained. She
+shivered delicately. &ldquo;The first night out is always a little terrible,
+isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not afraid?&rdquo; he asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not exactly afraid. Just a little quivery.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She got up, and he held up the mosquito-netting for her to pass. Outside
+they instinctively lifted up their faces to the pale stars.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s safer and cleaner than a city,&rdquo; said Stonor simply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know.&rdquo; She still lingered for a moment. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s your name?&rdquo; she asked
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>&ldquo;Good-night, Martin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-night!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Later, rolling on his hard bed, he thought: &ldquo;She might have given me her
+hand when she said it.&mdash;No, you fool! She did right not to! You&rsquo;ve got
+to get a grip on yourself. This is only the first day! If you begin like
+this&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI
+<span class="subtitle">THE KAKISAS</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>On the afternoon of the fourth day they suddenly issued out of big
+timber to find themselves at the edge of a plateau overlooking a shallow
+green valley, bare of trees in this place, and bisected by a
+smoothly-flowing brown river bordered with willows. The flat contained
+an Indian village.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here we are!&rdquo; said Stonor, reining up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The unexplored river!&rdquo; cried Clare. &ldquo;How exciting! But how pretty and
+peaceful it looks, just like an ordinary river. I suppose it doesn&rsquo;t
+realize it&rsquo;s unexplored.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>On the other side there was a bold point with a picturesque clump of
+pines shading a number of the odd little gabled structures with which
+the Indians cover the graves of their dead. On the nearer side from off
+to left appeared a smaller stream which wound across the meadow and
+emptied into the Swan. At intervals during the day their trail had
+bordered this little river, which Clare had christened the Meander.</p>
+
+<p>The tepees of the Indian village were strung along its banks, and the
+stream itself was filled with canoes. On a grassy mound to the right
+stood a little log shack which had a curiously impertinent look there in
+the midst of Nature untouched. On the other hand the tepees sprang from
+the ground as naturally as trees.</p>
+
+<p>Their coming naturally had the effect of a thunderclap on the village.
+They had scarcely shown themselves from among the trees when their
+presence was dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>covered. A chorus of sharp cries was raised, and there
+was much aimless running about like ants when the hill is disturbed. The
+cries did not suggest a welcome, but excitement purely. Men, women, and
+children gathered in a dense little crowd beside the trail where they
+must pass. None wished to put themselves forward. Those who lived on the
+other side of the little stream paddled frantically across to be in time
+for a close view.</p>
+
+<p>As they approached, absolute silence fell on the Indians, the silence of
+breathless excitement. The red-coat they had heard of, and in a general
+way they knew what he signified; but a white woman to them was as
+fabulous a creature as a mermaid or a hamadryad. Their eyes were saved
+for Clare. They fixed on her as hard, bright, and unwinking as jet
+buttons. They conveyed nothing but an animal curiosity. Clare nodded and
+smiled to them in her own way, but no muscle of any face relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Their manners will bear improving,&rdquo; muttered Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, give them a chance,&rdquo; said Clare. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve dropped on them out of a
+clear sky.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Some of the tepees were still made of tanned skins decorated with rude
+pictures; they saw bows and arrows and bark-canoes, things which have
+almost passed from America. The dress of the inhabitants was less
+picturesque; some of the older men still wore their picturesque blanket
+capotes, but the younger were clad in machine-made shirts and pants from
+the store, and the women in cotton dresses. They were a pure race, and
+as such presented for the most part fine, characteristic faces; but in
+body they were undersized and weedy, showing that their stock was
+running out.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor led the way across the flat and up a grassy rise to the little
+shack that has been mentioned. It had been built for the Company clerk
+who had formerly traded with the Kakisas, and Stonor designed it to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+accommodate Clare for the night. They dismounted at the door. The
+Indians followed them to within a distance of ten paces, where they
+squatted on their heels or stood still, staring immovably. Stonor
+resented their curiosity. Good manners are much the same the world over,
+and a self-respecting people would not have acted so, he told himself.
+None offered to stir hand or foot to assist them to unpack.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor somewhat haughtily desired the head man to show himself. When one
+stepped forward, he received him sitting in magisterial state on a box
+at the door. Personally the most modest of men, he felt for the moment
+that Authority had to be upheld in him. So the Indian was required to
+stand.</p>
+
+<p>His name was Ahchoogah (as near as a white man could get it) and he was
+about forty years old. Though small and slight like all the Kakisas, he
+had a comely face that somehow suggested race. He was better dressed
+than the majority, in expensive &ldquo;moleskin&rdquo; trousers from the store, a
+clean blue gingham shirt, a gaudy red sash, and an antique
+gold-embroidered waistcoat that had originated Heaven knows where. On
+his feet were fine white moccasins lavishly embroidered in coloured
+silks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How,&rdquo; he said, the one universal English word. He added a more
+elaborate greeting in his own tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Mary translated. &ldquo;Ahchoogah say he glad to see the red-coat, like he
+glad to see the river run again after the winter. Where the red-coats
+come there is peace and good feeling among all. No man does bad to
+another man. Ahchoogah hope the red-coat come often to Swan River.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor watched the man&rsquo;s face while he was speaking, and apprehended
+hostility behind the smooth words. He was at a loss to account for it,
+for the police are accustomed to being well received. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s been some
+bad influence at work here,&rdquo; he thought.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>He said grimly to Mary: &ldquo;Tell him that I hear his good words, but I do
+not see from the faces of his people that we are welcome here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was repeated to Ahchoogah, who turned and objurgated his people
+with every appearance of anger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s he saying to them?&rdquo; Stonor quietly asked Mary.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Call bad names,&rdquo; said Mary. &ldquo;Swear Kakisa swears. Tell them go back to
+the tepees and not look like they never saw nothing before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And sure enough the surrounding circle broke up and slunk away.</p>
+
+<p>Ahchoogah turned a bland face back to the policeman, and through Mary
+politely enquired what had brought him to Swan River.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will tell you,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;I come bearing a message from the
+mighty White Father across the great water to his Kakisa children. The
+White Father sends a greeting and desires to know if it is the wish of
+the Kakisas to take treaty like the Crees, the Beavers, and other
+peoples to the East. If it is so, I will send word, and my officers and
+the doctor will come next summer with the papers to be signed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ahchoogah replied in diplomatic language that so far as his particular
+Kakisas were concerned they thought themselves better off as they were.
+They had plenty to eat most years, and they didn&rsquo;t want to give up the
+right to come and go as they chose. No bad white men coveted their lands
+as yet, and they needed no protection from them. However, he would send
+messengers to his brothers up and down the river, and all would be
+guided by the wishes of the greatest number.</p>
+
+<p>At the beginning of this talk Clare had gone inside to escape the
+piercing stares. While he talked, Ahchoogah was continually trying to
+peer around Stonor to get a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> glimpse of her. When the diplomatic
+formalities were over, he said (according to Mary):</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I not know you got white wife. Nobody tell me that. She is very
+pretty.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell him she is not my wife,&rdquo; said Stonor, with a portentous scowl to
+hide his blushes. &ldquo;Tell him&mdash;Oh, the devil! he wouldn&rsquo;t understand. Tell
+him her name is Miss Clare Starling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What she come for?&rdquo; Ahchoogah coolly asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell him she travels to please herself,&rdquo; said Stonor, letting him make
+what he would of that.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ahchoogah say he want shake her by the hand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was in a quandary. The thought of the grimy hand touching Clare&rsquo;s
+was detestable yet, if the request had been made in innocence it seemed
+churlish to object. Clare, who overheard, settled the question for him,
+by coming out and offering her hand to the Indian with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>To Mary she said: &ldquo;Tell him to tell the women of his people that the
+white woman wishes to be their sister.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ahchoogah stared at her with a queer mixture of feelings. He was much
+taken aback by her outspoken, unafraid air. He had expected to despise
+her, as he had been taught to despise all women, but somehow she struck
+respect into his soul. He resented it: he had taken pleasure in the
+prospect of despising something white.</p>
+
+<p>Clare went back into the shack. Ahchoogah, with a shrug, dismissed her
+from his mind. He spoke again with his courteous air; meanwhile (or at
+any rate so Stonor thought) his black eyes glittered with hostility.</p>
+
+<p>Mary translated: &ldquo;Ahchoogah say all very glad you come. He say to-morrow
+night he going to give big tea-dance. He send for the Swan Lake people
+to come. A man will ride all night to bring them in time. He say it will
+be a big time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>&ldquo;Say we thank him for the big time just as if we had had it,&rdquo; said
+Stonor, not to be outdone in politeness. &ldquo;But we must go on down the
+river to-morrow morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When this was translated to Ahchoogah, he lost his self-possession for a
+moment, and scowled blackly at Stonor. Quickly recovering himself, he
+began suavely to protest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ahchoogah say the messenger of the Great White Father mustn&rsquo;t go up and
+down the river to the Kakisas and ask like a poor man for them to take
+treaty. Let him stay here, and let the poor Kakisas come to him and make
+respect.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My instructions are to visit the people where they live,&rdquo; said Stonor
+curtly. &ldquo;I shall want the dug-out that the Company man left here last
+Spring.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ahchoogah scowled again. Mary translated: &ldquo;Ahchoogah say, why you want
+heavy dug-out when he got plenty nice light bark-canoes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t use bark-canoes in the rapids.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A startled look shot out of the Indian&rsquo;s eyes. Mary translated: &ldquo;What
+for you want go down rapids? No Kakisas live below the rapids.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to visit the white man at the Great Falls.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When Ahchoogah got this he bent the look of a pure savage on Stonor,
+walled and inscrutable. He sullenly muttered something that Mary
+repeated as: &ldquo;No can go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nobody ever go down there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, somebody&rsquo;s got to be the first to go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rapids down there no boat can pass.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The white man came up to the Indians when they were sick last fall. If
+he can come up I can go down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He got plenty strong medicine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laughed. &ldquo;Well, I venture to say that my medicine is as strong as
+his&mdash;in the rapids.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ahchoogah raised a whole cloud of objections. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>&ldquo;Plenty white-face bear down there. Big as a horse. Kill man while he
+sleeps. Wolf down there. Run in packs as many as all the Kakisas. Him
+starving this year.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Women&rsquo;s talk!&rdquo; said Stonor contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You get carry over those falls. Behind those falls is a great pile of
+white bones. It is the bones of all the men and beasts that were carried
+over in the past. Those falls have no voice to warn you above. The water
+slip over so smooth and soft you not know there is any falls till you go
+over.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell Ahchoogah he cannot scare white men with such tales. Tell him to
+bring me the dug-out to the river-shore below here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ahchoogah muttered sulkily. Mary translated: &ldquo;Ahchoogah say got no
+dug-out. Man take it up to Swan Lake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well, then; I&rsquo;ll take two bark-canoes and carry around the
+rapids.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He still objected. &ldquo;If you take our canoes, how we going to hunt and
+fish for our families?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You offered me the canoes!&rdquo; cried Stonor wrathfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I forget then that every man got only one canoe.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor stood up in his majesty; Ahchoogah was like a pigmy before him.
+&ldquo;Tell him to go!&rdquo; cried the policeman. &ldquo;His mouth is full of lies and
+bad talk. Tell him to have the dug-out or the two canoes here by
+to-morrow morning or I&rsquo;ll come and take them!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Indian now changed his tone, and endeavoured to soften the
+policeman&rsquo;s anger, but Stonor turned on his heel and entered the shack.
+Ahchoogah went away down-hill with a crestfallen air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you make of it all?&rdquo; Clare asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor spoke lightly. &ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s clear they don&rsquo;t want us to go down
+the river, but what their reasons are I couldn&rsquo;t pretend to say. They
+may have some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> sort of idea that for us to explode the mystery of the
+river and the white medicine man whom they regard as their own would be
+to lower their prestige as a tribe. It&rsquo;s hard to say. It&rsquo;s almost
+impossible to get at their real reasons, and when you do, they generally
+seem childish to us. I don&rsquo;t think it&rsquo;s anything we need bother our
+heads about.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was watching him,&rdquo; said Clare. &ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t seem to me like a bad man
+so much as like a child who&rsquo;s got some wrong idea in his head.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s my idea too,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;One feels somehow that there&rsquo;s been
+a bad influence at work lately. But what influence could reach away out
+here? It beats me! Their White Medicine Man ought to have done them
+good.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He couldn&rsquo;t do them otherwise than good&mdash;so far as they would listen to
+him,&rdquo; she said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>They hastily steered away from this uncomfortable subject.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe Mary can help us,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;Mary, go among your people and
+talk to them. Give them good talk. Let them understand that we have no
+object but to be their friends. If there is a good reason why we
+shouldn&rsquo;t go down the river let them speak it plainly. But this talk of
+danger and magic simply makes white men laugh.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary dutifully took her way down to the tepees. She returned in time to
+get supper&mdash;but threw no further light on the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What about it, Mary?&rdquo; asked Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t go down the river,&rdquo; she said earnestly. &ldquo;Plenty bad trip, I
+think. I &rsquo;fraid for her. She can&rsquo;t paddle a canoe in the rapids nor
+track up-stream. What if we capsize and lose our grub? Don&rsquo;t go!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t the Kakisas give you any better reasons than that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary was doggedly silent.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>&ldquo;Ah, have they won you away from us too?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This touched the red woman. Her face worked painfully. She did her best
+to explain. &ldquo;Kakisas my people,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Maybe you think they foolish
+people. All right. Maybe they are not a wise and strong people like the
+old days. But they my people just the same. I can&rsquo;t tell white men their
+things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; put in Clare quickly. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t ask her any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, what do you think?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Do you not wish to go any
+further?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes! Yes!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I must go on!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; he said grimly. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll start to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I not go,&rdquo; said Mary stolidly. &ldquo;My people mad at me if I go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here was a difficulty! Stonor and Clare looked at each other blankly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What the devil&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo; began the policeman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hush! leave her to me,&rdquo; said Clare, urging him out of the shack.</p>
+
+<p>By and by she rejoined him outside. &ldquo;She&rsquo;ll come,&rdquo; she said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What magic did you use?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No magic. Just woman talk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII
+<span class="subtitle">ON THE RIVER</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Next morning they saw the dug-out pulled up on the shore below their
+camp.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The difference between a red man and a white man,&rdquo; said Stonor grimly,
+&ldquo;is that a red man doesn&rsquo;t mind being caught in a lie after the occasion
+for it has passed, but a white man will spend half the rest of his life
+trying to justify himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He regarded the craft dubiously. It was an antique affair, grey as an
+old badger, warped and seamed by the sun and rotten in the bottom. But
+it had a thin skin of sound wood on the outside, and on the whole it
+seemed better suited to their purpose than the bark-canoes used by the
+Kakisas.</p>
+
+<p>As they carried their goods down and made ready to start the Indians
+gathered around and watched with glum faces. None offered to help. It
+must have been a trying situation for Mary Moosa. When Stonor was out of
+hearing they did not spare her. She bore it with her customary stoicism.
+Ahchoogah, less honest than the rank and file, sought to commend himself
+to the policeman by a pretence of friendliness. Stonor, beyond telling
+him that he would hold him responsible for the safety of the horses
+during his absence, ignored him.</p>
+
+<p>Having stowed their outfit, they gingerly got in. Their boat, though
+over twenty feet long, was only about fifteen inches beam, and of the
+log out of which she had been fashioned she still retained the tendency<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+to roll over. Mary took the bow paddle, and Stonor the stern; Clare sat
+amidships facing the policeman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If we can only keep on top until we get around the first bend we&rsquo;ll
+save our dignity, anyhow,&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>They pushed off without farewells. When they rounded the first point of
+willows and passed out of sight of the crowd of lowering, dark faces,
+they felt relieved. Stonor was able to drop the port of august
+policeman.</p>
+
+<p>Said he: &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to call this craft the Serpent. She&rsquo;s got a fair
+twist on her. Her head is pointed to port and her tail to starboard. It
+takes a mathematical deduction to figure out which way she&rsquo;s going.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare was less ready than usual to answer his jokes. She was pale, and
+there was a hint of strain in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not bothered about Ahchoogah&rsquo;s imaginary terrors, are you?&rdquo; he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. &ldquo;Not that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He wondered what it was then, but did not like to ask directly. It
+suddenly struck him that she had been steadily losing tone since the
+first day on the trail.</p>
+
+<p>Her next words showed the direction her thoughts were taking. &ldquo;You said
+it was two hundred miles down the river. How long do you think it will
+take us to make it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Three days and a bit, if my guess as to the distance is right. We have
+the current to help us, and now we don&rsquo;t have to stop for the horses to
+graze.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They will be hard days to put in,&rdquo; she said simply.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor pondered for a long time on what she meant by this. Was she so
+consumed by impatience to arrive that the dragging hours were a torture
+to her? or was it simply the uncertainty of what awaited her, and a
+longing to have it over with? That she had been eager for the journey
+was clear, but it had not seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> like a joyful eagerness. He was aware
+that there was something here he did not understand. Women had
+unfathomable souls anyway.</p>
+
+<p>As far as he was concerned he frankly dreaded the outcome of the
+journey. How was he to bear himself at the meeting of this divided
+couple? He could not avoid being a witness of it. He must hand her over
+with a smile, he supposed, and make a graceful get-away. But suppose he
+were prevented from leaving immediately. Or suppose, as was quite
+likely, that they wished to return with him! He ground his teeth at the
+thought of such an ordeal. Would he be able to carry it off? He must!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; Clare asked suddenly. She had been studying his
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why did you ask?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You looked as if you had a sudden pain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had,&rdquo; he said, with a rueful smile. &ldquo;My knees. It&rsquo;s so long since I
+paddled that they&rsquo;re not limbered up yet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She appeared not altogether satisfied with this explanation.</p>
+
+<p>This part of the river showed a succession of long smooth reaches with
+low banks of a uniform height bordered with picturesque ragged
+jack-pines, tall, thin, and sharply pointed. Here and there, where the
+composition seemed to require it, a perfect island was planted in the
+brown flood. At the foot of the pines along the edge of each bank grew
+rows of berry bushes as regularly as if set out by a gardener. Already
+the water was receding as a result of the summer drouth, but, as fast as
+it fell, the muddy beach left at the foot of each bank was mantled with
+the tender green of goose-grass, a diminutive cousin of the tropical
+bamboo. Mile after mile the character of the stream showed no variance.
+It was like a noble corridor through the pines.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>At intervals during the day they met a few Kakisas, singly or in pairs,
+in their beautifully-made little birch-bark canoes. These individuals,
+when they came upon them suddenly, almost capsized in their astonishment
+at beholding pale-faces on their river. No doubt, in the tepees behind
+the willows, the coming of the whites had long been foretold as a
+portent of dreadful things.</p>
+
+<p>They displayed their feelings according to their various natures. The
+first they met, a solitary youth, was frankly terrified. He hastened
+ashore, the water fairly cascading from his paddle, and, squatting
+behind the bushes, peered through at them like an animal. The next pair
+stood their ground, clinging to an overhanging willow&mdash;too startled to
+escape perhaps&mdash;where they stared with goggling eyes, and visibly
+trembled. It gave Stonor and Clare a queer sense of power thus to have
+their mere appearance create so great an excitement. Nothing could be
+got out of these two; they would not even answer questions from Mary in
+their own tongue.</p>
+
+<p>The fourth Kakisa, however, an incredibly ragged and dirty old man with
+a dingy cotton fillet around his snaky locks, hailed them with wild
+shouts of laughter, paddled to meet them, and clung to the dug-out,
+fondly stroking Stonor&rsquo;s sleeve. The sight of Clare caused him to go off
+into fresh shrieks of good-natured merriment. His name, he informed
+them, was Lookoovar, or so they understood it. He had a stomach-ache, he
+said, and wished for some of the white man&rsquo;s wonderful stomach-warming
+medicine of which he had heard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It seems that our principal claim to fame up here is whisky,&rdquo; said
+Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>He gave the old man a pill. Lookoovar swallowed it eagerly, but looked
+disappointed at the absence of immediate results.</p>
+
+<p>All these men were hunting their dinners. Close to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> the shore they
+paddled softly against the current, or drifted silently down, searching
+the bushes with their keen flat eyes for the least stir. Since
+everything had to come down to the river sooner or later to drink, they
+could have had no better point of vantage. Every man had a gun in his
+canoe, but ammunition is expensive on the Swan River, and for small fry,
+musk-rat, duck, fool-hen, or rabbit, they still used the prehistoric bow
+and arrow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Swan River is like the Kakisas&rsquo; Main Street,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;All day
+they mosey up and down looking in the shop-windows for bargains in
+feathers and furs.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They camped for the night on a cleared point occupied by the bare poles
+of several tepees. The Indians left these poles standing at all the best
+sites along the river, ready to use the next time they should spell that
+way. They frequently left their caches too, that is to say, spare gear,
+food and what-not, trustfully hanging from near-by branches in
+birch-bark containers. The Kakisas even tote water in bark pails.</p>
+
+<p>Next day the character of the river changed. It now eddied around
+innumerable short bends right and left with an invariable regularity,
+each bend so like the last they lost all track of the distance they had
+come. Its course was as regularly crooked as a crimping-iron. On each
+bend it ate under the bank on the outside, and deposited a bar on the
+inside. On one side the pines toppled into the water as their footing
+was undermined, while poplars sprang up on the other side in the
+newly-made ground.</p>
+
+<p>On the afternoon of this day they suddenly came upon the village of
+which they had been told. It fronted on a little lagoon behind one of
+the sand-bars. This was the village where Imbrie was said to have cured
+the Kakisas of measles. At present most of the inhabitants were pitching
+off up and down the river, and there were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> only half a dozen covered
+tepees in sight, but the bare poles of many others showed the normal
+extent of the village.</p>
+
+<p>The usual furore of excitement was caused by their unheralded appearance
+around the bend. For a moment the Indians completely lost their heads,
+and there was a mad scurry for the tepees. Some mothers dragged their
+screaming offspring into the bush for better shelter. Only one or two of
+the bravest among the men dared show themselves. But with true savage
+volatility they recovered from their panic as suddenly as they had been
+seized. One by one they stole to the edge of the bank, where they stood
+staring down at the travellers, with their shoe-button eyes empty of all
+human expression.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had no intention of landing here. He waited with the nose of the
+Serpent resting in the mud until the excitement died down. Then, through
+Mary, he requested speech with the head man.</p>
+
+<p>A bent old man tottered down the bank with the aid of a staff. He wore a
+dirty blanket capote&mdash;and a bicycle cap! He faced them, his head wagging
+with incipient palsy, and his dim eyes looking out bleared, indifferent,
+and jaded. Sparse grey hairs decorated his chin. It was a picture of age
+without reverence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How dreadful to grow old in a tepee!&rdquo; murmured Clare.</p>
+
+<p>The old man was accompanied by a comely youth with bold eyes, his
+grandson, according to Mary. The elder&rsquo;s name was Ahcunazie, the boy&rsquo;s
+Ahteeah.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, in the name of the Great White Father, harangued the chief in a
+style similar to that he had used with Ahchoogah. Ahcunazie appeared
+dazed and incapable of replying, so Stonor said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Talk with your people and find out what all desire. I will return in a
+week for your answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When this was translated the young man spoke up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> sharply. Mary said:
+&ldquo;Ahteeah say, What for you want go down the river?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said: &ldquo;To see the white man,&rdquo; and watched close to see how they
+would take it.</p>
+
+<p>The scene in the other village was almost exactly repeated. Ahteeah
+brought up all the reasons he could think of that would be likely to
+dissuade Stonor. Other men, hearing what was going forward, came down to
+support the boy. Stonor&rsquo;s boat was rotten, they pointed out, and the
+waves in the rapids ran as high as a man. With vivid gestures they
+illustrated what would happen to the dug-out in the rapids. If he
+escaped the rapids he would surely be carried over the Falls; and if he
+wasn&rsquo;t, how did he expect to get back up the rapids? And so on.</p>
+
+<p>Old Ahcunazie stood through it all uncomprehending and indifferent. He
+was too old even to betray any interest in the phenomenon of the white
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>One thing new the whites marked: &ldquo;White Medicine Man don&rsquo; like white
+men. He say if white men come he goin&rsquo; away.&rdquo; This suggested a possible
+reason for the Indian&rsquo;s opposition.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor still remaining unmoved, Ahteeah brought out as a clincher:
+&ldquo;White Medicine Man not home now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor and Clare looked at each other startled. This would be a calamity
+after having travelled all that way. &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; Stonor demanded.</p>
+
+<p>The young Indian, delighted at his apparent success, answered glibly:
+&ldquo;He say he goin&rsquo; down to Great Buffalo Lake this summer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An instant&rsquo;s reflection satisfied Stonor that if this were true it would
+have been brought out first instead of last. &ldquo;Oh, well, since we&rsquo;ve come
+as far as this we&rsquo;ll go the rest of the way to make sure,&rdquo; he said
+calmly.</p>
+
+<p>Ahteeah looked disappointed. They pushed off. The Indians watched them
+go in sullen silence.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>&ldquo;Certainly we are not popular in this neighbourhood,&rdquo; said Stonor
+lightly. &ldquo;One can&rsquo;t get rid of the feeling that their minds have been
+poisoned against us. Mary, can&rsquo;t you tell me why they give me such black
+looks?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. &ldquo;I think there is something,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But they
+not tell me because I with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe it has something to do with me?&rdquo; said Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How could that be? They never heard of you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think it is Stonor,&rdquo; said Mary.</p>
+
+<p>Clare was harder to rouse out of herself to-day. Stonor did his best not
+to show that he perceived anything amiss, and strove to cheer her with
+chaff and foolishness&mdash;likewise to keep his own heart up, but not
+altogether with success.</p>
+
+<p>On one occasion Clare sought to reassure him by saying, <span class="foreign" lang="fr">&agrave; propos</span> of
+nothing that had gone before: &ldquo;The worst of having an imagination is,
+that when you have anything to go through with, it keeps presenting the
+most horrible alternatives in advance until you are almost incapable of
+facing the thing. And after all it is never so bad as your imagination
+pictures.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I understand that,&rdquo; said Stonor, &ldquo;though I don&rsquo;t suppose anybody would
+accuse me of being imaginative.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Something to go through with!&rsquo;&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;&lsquo;Horrible alternatives!&rsquo;
+&lsquo;Never so bad as your imagination pictures!&rsquo; What strange phrases for a
+woman to use who is going to rejoin her husband!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When they embarked after the second spell Clare asked if she might sit
+facing forward in the dug-out, so she could see better where they were
+going. But Stonor guessed this was merely an excuse to escape from
+having his solicitous eyes on her face.</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Next morning they overtook the last Kakisa that they were to see on the
+way down. He was drifting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> along close to the shore, and behind him in
+his canoe sat his little boy as still as a mouse, receiving his
+education in hunter&rsquo;s lore. This man was a more intelligent specimen
+than they had met hitherto. He was a comely little fellow with an
+extraordinary head of hair cut <span class="foreign" lang="fr">&agrave; la</span> Buster Brown, and his name, he
+said, was Etzooah. Stonor remembered having heard of him and his hair as
+far away as Fort Enterprise. His manners were good. While naturally
+astonished at their appearance, he did not on that account lose his
+self-possession. They conversed politely while drifting down side by
+side.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah, in sharp contrast to all the other Kakisas, appeared to see
+nothing out of the way in their wish to visit the White Medicine Man,
+nor did he try to dissuade them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How far is it to the Great Falls?&rdquo; asked Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One sleep.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are the rapids too bad for a boat?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rapids bad, but not too bad. I go down in my bark-canoe, I guess you go
+all right in dug-out. Long tam ago my fat&rsquo;er tell me all the Kakisa
+people go to the Big Falls ev&rsquo;ry year at the time when the berries ripe.
+By the Big Falls they meet the people from Great Buffalo Lake and make
+big talk there and make dance to do honour to the Old Man under the
+falls. And this people trade leather for fur with the people from Great
+Buffalo Lake. But now this people is scare to go there. But I am not
+scare. I go there. Three times I go there. Each time I leave a little
+present of tobacco for the Old Man so he know my heart is good towards
+him. I guess Old Man like a brave man better than a woman. No harm come
+to me since I go. My wife, my children got plenty to eat; I catch good
+fur. Bam-bye I take my boy there too. Some men say I crazy for that, but
+I say no. It is a fine sight. It make a man&rsquo;s heart big to see that
+sight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>This was a man after Stonor&rsquo;s own heart. &ldquo;Tell him those are good
+words,&rdquo; he said heartily.</p>
+
+<p>When they asked him about the White Man who lived beside the falls,
+Etzooah&rsquo;s eyes sparkled. &ldquo;He say he my friend, and I proud. Since he say
+that I think more of myself. I walk straight. I am not afraid. He is
+good. He make the sick well. He give the people good talk. He tell how
+to live clean and all, so there is no more sickness. He moch like
+children. He good to my boy. Give him little face that say &lsquo;Ticky-ticky&rsquo;
+and follow the sun.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah issued a command to his small son, and the boy shyly exhibited a
+large cheap nickel watch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No other Kakisa man or boy got that,&rdquo; said the parent proudly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it true that this white man hates other white men?&rdquo; asked Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah made an emphatic negative. &ldquo;He got no hate. He say red man white
+man all the same man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then he&rsquo;ll be glad to see us?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think he glad. Got good heart to all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is he at home now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is at home. I see him go down the river three sleeps ago.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Those in the dug-out exchanged looks of astonishment. &ldquo;Ask him if he is
+sure?&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah persisted in his statement. &ldquo;I not speak him for cause I hiding
+in bush watchin&rsquo; bear. And he is across the river. But I see good. See
+white face. I know him because he not paddle like Kakisa one side other
+side; him paddle all time same side and turn the paddle so to make go
+straight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where had he been?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Up to Horse Track, I guess.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Horse Track, of course, was the trail from the river to Fort Enterprise.
+The village at the end of the trail received the same designation. If
+the tale of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> visit was true it might have something to do with the
+hostility they had met with above.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we have just come from the Horse Track,&rdquo; said Stonor, to feel the
+man out. &ldquo;Nobody told us he had been there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah shrugged. &ldquo;Maybe they scare. Not know what to say to white man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Stonor thought, if anything, they had known too well what to say.
+&ldquo;How long had he been up there?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I not know. I not know him gone up river till see him come back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe he only went a little way up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah shook his head vigorously. &ldquo;His canoe was loaded heavy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah accompanied them to the point where the current began to
+increase its pace preparatory to the first rapid.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This the end my hunting-ground,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Too much work to come back
+up the rapids.&rdquo; He saluted them courteously, and caused the little boy
+to do likewise. His parting remark was: &ldquo;Tell the White Medicine Man
+Etzooah never forget he call him friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we&rsquo;ve found one gentleman among the Kakisas,&rdquo; Stonor said to
+Clare, as they paddled on.</p>
+
+<p>The first rapid was no great affair. There was plenty of water, and they
+were carried racing smoothly down between low rocky banks. Stonor named
+the place the Grumbler from the deep throaty sound it gave forth.</p>
+
+<p>In quiet water below they discussed what they had heard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It gets thicker and thicker,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;It seems to me that
+Imbrie&rsquo;s having been at the Horse Track lately must have had something
+to do with the chilly reception we received.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>&ldquo;Why should it?&rdquo; said Clare. &ldquo;He has nothing to fear from the coming of
+anybody.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then why did they say nothing about his visit?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. &ldquo;You know I cannot fathom these people.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Neither can I, for that matter. But it does seem as if he must have
+told them not to tell anybody they had seen him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is not like him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ahteeah said Imbrie hated white men; Etzooah said his heart was kind to
+all men: which is the truer description?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Etzooah&rsquo;s,&rdquo; she said instantly. &ldquo;He has a simple, kind heart. He lives
+up to the rule &lsquo;Love thy neighbour&rsquo; better than any man I ever knew.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we&rsquo;ll know to-morrow,&rdquo; said Stonor, making haste to drop the
+disconcerting subject. Privately he asked himself: &ldquo;Why, if Imbrie is
+such a good man, does she seem to dread meeting him?&rdquo; There was no
+answer forthcoming.</p>
+
+<p>The rapids became progressively wilder and rougher as they went on down,
+and Stonor was not without anxiety as to the coming back. Sometimes they
+came on white water unexpectedly around a bend, but the river was not so
+crooked now, and more often far ahead they saw the white rabbits dancing
+in the sunshine, causing their breasts to constrict with a foretaste of
+fear. As the current bore them inexorably closer, and they picked out
+the rocks and the great white combers awaiting them, there was always a
+moment when they longed to turn aside from their fate. But once having
+plunged into the welter, fear vanished, and a great exhilaration took
+its place. They shouted madly to each other&mdash;even stolid Mary, and were
+sorry when they came to the bottom. Between rapids the smooth stretches
+seemed insufferably tedious to pass.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>Stonor&rsquo;s endeavour was to steer a middle course between the great
+billows in the middle of the channel, which he feared might swamp the
+Serpent or break her in half, and the rocks at each side which would
+have smashed her to pieces. Luckily he had had a couple of days in which
+to learn the vagaries of his craft. In descending a swift current one
+has to bear in mind that any boat begins to answer her helm some yards
+ahead of the spot where the impulse is applied.</p>
+
+<p>As the day wore on he bethought himself that &ldquo;one sleep&rdquo; was an elastic
+term of distance, and in order to avoid the possibility of being carried
+over the falls he adopted the rule of landing at the head of each rapid,
+and walking down the shore to pick his channel, and to make sure that
+there was smooth water below. They had been told that there was no rapid
+immediately above the falls, that the water slipped over without giving
+warning, but Stonor dismissed this into the limbo of red-skin romancing.
+He did not believe it possible for a river to go over a fall without
+some preliminary disturbance.</p>
+
+<p>As it happened, dusk descended on them in the middle of a smooth reach,
+and they made camp for the last time on the descent, pitching the three
+tents under the pines in the form of a little square open on the river
+side. Clare was very silent during the meal, and Stonor&rsquo;s gaiety sounded
+hollow in his own ears. They turned in immediately after eating.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor awoke in the middle of the night without being able to tell what
+had awakened him. He had a sense that something was wrong. It was a
+breathless cool night. Under the pines it was very dark, but outside of
+their shadow the river gleamed wanly. Such sounds as he heard, the
+murmur of a far-off rapid, and a whisper in the topmost boughs of the
+pines, conveyed a suggestion of empty immeasurable distances. The fire
+had burned down to its last embers.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>Suddenly he became aware of what was the matter; Clare was weeping. It
+was the merest hint of a sound, softer than falling leaves, just a catch
+of the breath that escaped her now and then. Stonor lay listening with
+bated breath, as if terrified of losing that which tore his heartstrings
+to hear. He was afflicted with a ghastly sense of impotence. He had no
+right to intrude on her grief. Yet how could he lie supine when she was
+in trouble, and make believe not to hear? He could not lie still. He got
+up, taking no care to be quiet, and built up the fire. She could not
+know, of course, that he had heard that broken breath. Perhaps she would
+speak to him. Or, if she could not speak, perhaps she would take comfort
+from the mere fact of his waking presence outside.</p>
+
+<p>He heard no further sound from her tent.</p>
+
+<p>After a while, because it was impossible for him not to say it, he
+softly asked: &ldquo;Are you asleep?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>He sat down by the fire listening and brooding&mdash;humming a little tune
+meanwhile to assure her of the blitheness of his spirits.</p>
+
+<p>By and by a small voice issued from under her tent: &ldquo;Please go back to
+bed,&rdquo;&mdash;and he knew at once that she saw through his poor shift to
+deceive her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Honest, I don&rsquo;t feel like sleeping,&rdquo; he said cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did I wake you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he lied. &ldquo;Were you up?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You were worrying about me,&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing to speak of. I thought perhaps the silence and the solitude had
+got on your nerves a little. It&rsquo;s that kind of a night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t mind it,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;with you near&mdash;and Mary,&rdquo; she quickly
+added. &ldquo;Please go back to bed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He crept to her tent. It was purely an involuntary act. He was on his
+knees, but he did not think of that.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> &ldquo;Ah, Clare, if I could only take
+your trouble from you!&rdquo; he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Put me and my troubles out of your head. It is
+nothing. It is like the rapids; one loses one&rsquo;s nerve when they loom up
+ahead. I shall be all right when I am in them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Clare, let me sit here on the ground beside you&mdash;not touching you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;please! Go back to your tent. It will be easier for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">In the morning they arose heavily, and set about the business of
+breakfasting and breaking camp with little speech. Indeed, there was
+nothing to say. Neither Stonor nor Clare could make believe now to be
+otherwise than full of dread of what the day had in store. Embarking,
+Clare took a paddle too, and all three laboured doggedly, careless alike
+of rough water and smooth.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the day they heard, for some minutes before the place
+itself hove in view, the roar of a rapid greater than any they had
+passed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This will be something!&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>But as they swept around the bend above they never saw the rapid, for
+among the trees on the bank at the beginning of the swift water there
+stood a little new log shack. That sight struck them like a blow. There
+was no one visible outside the shack, but the door stood open.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII
+<span class="subtitle">THE LOG SHACK</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>It struck them as odd that no one appeared out of the shack. For a man
+living beside a river generally has his eye unconsciously on the stream,
+just as a man who dwells by a lonely road lets few pass by unseen.
+Stonor sent him a hail, as is the custom of the country&mdash;but no
+surprised glad face showed itself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is away,&rdquo; said Stonor, merely to break the racking silence between
+him and Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Would he leave the door open?&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>They landed. On the beach lay two birch-bark canoes, Kakisa-made. One
+had freshly-cut willow-branches lying in the bottom. Stonor happened to
+notice that the bow-thwart of this canoe was notched in a peculiar way.
+He was to remember it later. Ordinarily the Kakisa canoes are as like as
+peas out of the same pod.</p>
+
+<p>From the beach the shack was invisible by reason of the low bank
+between. Stonor accompanied Clare half-way up the bank. &ldquo;Mary and I will
+wait here,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him deeply without speaking. It had the effect of a
+farewell. Stonor saw that she was breathing fast, and that her lips were
+continually closing and parting again. Leaving him, she walked slowly
+and stiffly to the door of the shack. Her little hands were clenched. He
+waited, suffering torments of anxiety for her.</p>
+
+<p>She knocked on the door-frame, and waited. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> pushed the door further
+open, and looked in. She went in, and was gone for a few seconds.
+Reappearing, she shook her head at Stonor. He went up and joined her.
+Mary, who, in spite of her stolidity, was as inquisitive as the next
+woman, followed him without being bid.</p>
+
+<p>They all entered the shack. Stonor sniffed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is that smell?&rdquo; asked Clare. &ldquo;I noticed it at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kinni-kinnick.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him enquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Native substitute for tobacco. It&rsquo;s made from the inner bark of the red
+willow. He must have run out of white man&rsquo;s tobacco.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She pointed to a can standing on the table. Stonor, lifting it, found it
+nearly full.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Funny he should smoke kinni-kinnick when he has Kemble&rsquo;s mixture. He
+must be saving that for a last resort.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor looked around him with a strong curiosity. The room had a grace
+that was astonishing to find in that far-removed spot; moreover,
+everything had been contrived out of the rough materials at hand. Two
+superb black bear-skins lay on the floor. The bed which stood against
+the back wall was hidden under a beautiful robe made out of scores of
+little skins cunningly sewed together, lynx-paws with a border of
+marten. There were two workmanlike chairs fashioned out of willow; one
+with a straight back at the desk, the other, comfortable and capacious,
+before the fire. The principal piece of furniture was a birch desk or
+table, put together with infinite patience with no other tools but an
+axe and a knife, and rubbed with oil to a satiny finish. On it stood a
+pair of carved wooden candlesticks holding candles of bears&rsquo; tallow, a
+wooden inkwell, and a carved frame displaying a little photograph&mdash;of
+Clare!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>Seeing it, her eyes filled with tears. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad I came,&rdquo; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor turned away.</p>
+
+<p>A pen lay on the desk where it had been dropped, and beside it was a red
+leather note-book or diary, of which Clare possessed herself. More than
+anything else, what lent the room its air of amenity was a little shelf
+of books and magazines above the table. There was no glass in the
+window, of course, but a piece of gauze had been stretched over the
+opening to keep out the insects at night. For cold weather there was a
+heavy shutter swung on wooden hinges. The fireplace, built of stones and
+clay, was in the corner. The arch was cunningly contrived out of thin
+slabs of stone standing on edge. Stonor immediately noticed that the
+ashes were still giving out heat.</p>
+
+<p>The room they were in comprised only half the shack. There was a door
+communicating with the other half. Opening it, they saw that this part
+evidently served the owner as a work-room and <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;storeroom&rdquo;'>store-room</ins>.
+Cut wood was neatly piled against one wall. <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;Snow-shoes&rdquo;'>Snowshoes</ins>,
+roughly-fashioned fur garments, steel traps and
+other winter gear were hanging from pegs. There was a window facing the
+river, this one uncovered, and under it was a work-bench on which lay
+the remains of a meal and unwashed dishes&mdash;humble testimony to the near
+presence of another fellow-creature in the wilderness. On the floor at
+one side was a heap of supplies; that is to say, store-grub; evidently
+what Imbrie had lately brought down, and had not yet put away. There was
+a door in the back wall of this room, the side of the shack away from
+the river.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, looking around, said: &ldquo;I suppose he used this as a sort of
+vestibule in the winter, to keep the wind and the snow out of his
+living-room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where can he be?&rdquo; said Clare nervously.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>They both spoke instinctively in subdued tones, like intruders fearful
+of being overheard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He can&rsquo;t have been gone long. He was smoking here just now. The
+fireplace is still warm.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He can&rsquo;t have intended to stay long, for he left everything open.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, he would hardly expect to be disturbed up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But animals?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No wild thing would venture close to the fresh man smell. Still, it&rsquo;s
+natural to close up when you go away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you think?&rdquo; she asked tremulously.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of her wide, strained eyes, and the little teeth pressed into
+her lower lip, were inexpressibly painful to him. Clearly it was too
+much to ask of the high-strung woman, after she had nerved herself up to
+the ordeal, to go on waiting indefinitely in suspense.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There are dozens of natural explanations,&rdquo; he said quickly. &ldquo;Very
+likely he&rsquo;s just gone into the bush to hunt for his dinner.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Her hand involuntarily went to her breast. &ldquo;I feel,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;as
+if there were something dreadfully&mdash;dreadfully wrong.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor went outside and lustily holloaed. He received no answer.</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible for them to sit still while they waited. Having seen
+everything in the house, they walked about outside. Off to the left
+Imbrie had painstakingly cleared a little garden. Strange it was to see
+the familiar potato, onion, turnip and cabbage sprouting in orderly rows
+beside the unexplored river.</p>
+
+<p>Time passed. From a sense of duty they prepared a meal on the shore, and
+made a pretence of eating it, each for the other&rsquo;s benefit. Stonor did
+his best to keep up Clare&rsquo;s spirits, while at the same time his own
+mystification was growing. For in circling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> the shack he could find no
+fresh track anywhere into the bush. Tracks there were in plenty, where
+the man had gone for wood, or to hunt perhaps, but all more than
+twenty-four hours old. To be sure, there was the river, but it was not
+likely he had still a third canoe: and if he had gone up the river, how
+could they have missed him? As for going down, no canoe could live in
+that rapid, Stonor was sure; moreover, he supposed the falls were at the
+foot of it.</p>
+
+<p>Another thing; both his shot-gun and his rifle were leaning against the
+fireplace. He might have another gun, but it was not likely. As the
+hours passed, and the man neither returned nor answered Stonor&rsquo;s
+frequent shouts, the policeman began to wonder if an accident could have
+occurred to him. But he had certainly been alive and well within a
+half-hour of their arrival, and it seemed too fortuitous a circumstance
+that anything should have happened just at that juncture. A more
+probable explanation was that the man had seen them coming, and had
+reasons of his own for wishing to keep out of the way. After all, Stonor
+had no precise knowledge of the situation existing between Imbrie and
+Clare. But if he had hidden himself, where had he hidden himself?</p>
+
+<p>While it was still full day Stonor persuaded Clare and Mary to remain in
+the shack for a time, while he made a more careful search for Imbrie&rsquo;s
+tracks. This time he thoroughly satisfied himself that that day no one
+had struck into the bush surrounding the shack. He came upon the end of
+the old carry trail around the falls, and followed it away. But it would
+have been clear to even a tyro in the bush that no one had used it
+lately. There remained the beach. It was possible to walk along the
+stony beach without leaving a visible track. Stonor searched the beach
+for half a mile in either direction without being able to find a single
+track in any wet or muddy place, and without discovering any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> place
+where one had struck up the bank into the bush. On the down-river side
+he was halted by a low, sheer wall of rock washed by the current. He
+made sure that no one had tried to climb around this miniature
+precipice. From this point the rapids still swept on down out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>He returned to the shack completely baffled, and hoping against hope to
+find Imbrie returned. But Clare still sat huddled in the chair where he
+had left her, and looked to him eagerly for news. He could only shake
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the sun went down.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If he is not here by dark,&rdquo; said Clare with a kind of desperate
+calmness, &ldquo;we will know something is the matter. His hat, his
+ammunition-belt, his hunting-knife are all here. He could not have
+intended to remain away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Darkness slowly gathered. Nothing happened. At intervals Stonor
+shouted&mdash;only to be mocked by the silence. Just to be doing something he
+built a great fire outside the shack. If Imbrie should be on the way
+back it would at least warn him of the presence of visitors.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was suddenly struck by the fact that Mary had not expressed
+herself as to the situation. It was impossible to tell from the smooth
+copper mask of her face of what she was thinking.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary, what do you make of it?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She shrugged, declining to commit herself. &ldquo;All the people say Eembrie
+got ver&rsquo; strong medicine,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Say he make himself look like
+anything he want.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor and Clare exchanged a rueful smile. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid that doesn&rsquo;t help
+much,&rdquo; said the former.</p>
+
+<p>Mosquitoes drove them indoors. Stonor closed the door of the shack, and
+built up the fire in the fireplace. Stonor no longer expected the man to
+return,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> but Clare was still tremulously on the <span class="foreign" lang="fr">qui vive</span> for the
+slightest sound. Mary went off to bed in the store-room. The others
+remained sitting before the fire in Imbrie&rsquo;s two chairs. For them sleep
+was out of the question. Each had privately determined to sit up all
+night.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time they remained there without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had said nothing to Clare about the conclusions he had arrived at
+concerning Imbrie, but she gathered from his attitude that he was
+passing judgment against the man they had come in search of, and she
+said at last:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you notice that little book that I picked up off the desk?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was his diary. Shall I read you from it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you think it is right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes. Just an extract or two. To show you the kind of man he is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The book was in the side pocket of her coat. Opening it, and leaning
+forward to get the light of the fire, she read:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;April 29th: The ice is preparing to go out. Great booming cracks have
+been issuing from the river all day at intervals. When the jam at the
+head of the rapids goes it will be a great sight. To-morrow I&rsquo;ll take a
+bite to eat with me, and go down to the falls to watch what happens.
+Thank God for the coming of Spring! I&rsquo;m pretty nearly at the end of my
+resources. I&rsquo;ve read and re-read my few books and papers until I can
+almost repeat the contents by heart. I&rsquo;ve finished my desk, and the
+candlesticks, and the frame for Clare&rsquo;s picture. But now I&rsquo;ll be able to
+make my garden. And I can sod a little lawn in front of the house with
+buffalo-grass.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>Clare looked at Stonor for an expression of opinion.</p>
+
+<p>The policeman murmured diffidently: &ldquo;A real good sort.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Listen to this. One of the first entries.&rdquo; She read
+in a moved voice:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They say that a man who lives cut off from his kind is bound to
+degenerate swiftly, but, by God! I won&rsquo;t have it so in my case. I&rsquo;ll be
+on my guard against the first symptoms. I shave every day and will
+continue to do so. Shaving is a symbol. I will keep my person and my
+house as trim as if I expected her to visit me hourly. Half of each day
+I&rsquo;ll spend in useful manual labour of some kind, and half in reading and
+contemplation. The power is mine to build or destroy myself with my
+thoughts. Well, I choose to build!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare looked at Stonor again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is fine!&rdquo; he said simply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So you see&mdash;why I had to come,&rdquo; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>He did not see why the one followed necessarily on the other, nor did he
+understand why she felt impelled to explain it just then. But it seemed
+better to hold his peace. This revealing of Imbrie&rsquo;s worthy nature
+greatly perplexed Stonor. It had been so easy to believe that the two
+must have been parted as a result of something evil in Imbrie. He could
+not believe that it had been Clare&rsquo;s fault, however she might accuse
+herself. He was not yet experienced enough to conceive of a situation
+where two honest souls might come to a parting of the ways without
+either being especially to blame.</p>
+
+<p>For another long period they sat in silence. The influence of the night
+made itself felt even through the log walls of the shack. They were
+aware of solitude as of a physical presence. The fire had burned down to
+still embers, and down the chimney floated the inexpressibly mournful
+breath of the pines. The rapids made a hoarser note beyond. Clare
+shivered, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> leaned closer over the fire. Stonor made a move to put on
+more wood, but she stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; she said, with queer inconsistency. &ldquo;It makes too much noise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the awful stillness was broken by a heavy thudding sound on the
+ground outside. A gasping cry was forced from Clare. Stonor sprang up,
+knocking over his chair, and made for the door. Getting it opened, he
+ran outside. Off to his right he saw, or thought he saw, a suspicious
+shadow, and he instantly made for it. Whereupon a sudden crashing into
+the underbrush persuaded him it was no apparition.</p>
+
+<p>Clare&rsquo;s voice, sharp with terror, arrested him. &ldquo;Martin, don&rsquo;t leave
+me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He went back to her, suddenly realizing that to chase an unknown thing
+bare-handed through the bush at night was scarcely the part of prudence.
+He got his gun, and flung himself down across the sill of the open door,
+looking out. Nothing further was to be seen or heard. Beyond the little
+clearing the river gleamed in the faint dusk. The canoes on the beach
+were invisible from the door, being under the bank.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you think it was?&rdquo; whispered Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Something fell or jumped out of that big spruce nearest the back of the
+house.&rdquo; To himself he added: &ldquo;A natural place to hide. What a fool I was
+not to think of that before!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what?&rdquo; said Clare.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said grimly: &ldquo;There are only two tree-climbing animals in this
+country heavy enough to make the sound we heard&mdash;bears and men.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A bear?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe. But I never heard of a bear climbing a tree beside a house, and
+at night, too. Don&rsquo;t know what he went up for.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it couldn&rsquo;t be&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; Clare began. She never finished.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>Stonor kept his vigil at the open door. He bade Clare throw ashes on the
+embers, that no light from behind might show him up. When she had done
+it she crept across the floor and sat close beside him. Mary,
+apparently, had not been awakened.</p>
+
+<p>Minutes passed, and they heard no sounds except the rapids and the
+pines. Clare was perfectly quiet, and Stonor could not tell how she was
+bearing the strain. He bethought himself that he had perhaps spoken his
+mind too clearly. To reassure her he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must have been a bear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You do not think so really,&rdquo; she said. A despairing little wail escaped
+her. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand! Oh, I don&rsquo;t understand! Why should he hide
+from us?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor could find little of comfort to say. &ldquo;Morning will make
+everything clear, I expect. We shall be laughing at our fears then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The minutes grew into hours, and they remained in the same positions.
+Nature is merciful to humans, and little by little the strain was eased.
+The sharpness of their anxiety was dulled. They were conscious only of a
+dogged longing for the dawn. At intervals Stonor suggested to Clare that
+she go lie down on the bed, but when she begged to remain beside him, he
+had not the heart to insist. In all that time they heard nothing beyond
+the natural sounds of the night; the stirrings of little furry footfalls
+among the leaves; the distant bark of a fox.</p>
+
+<p>And then without the slightest warning the night was shattered by a
+blood-curdling shriek of terror from Mary Moosa in the room adjoining.
+Stonor&rsquo;s first thought was for the effect on Clare&rsquo;s nerves. He jumped
+up, savagely cursing the Indian woman. He ran to the communicating door.
+Clare was close at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>Mary was lying on the floor, covering her head with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> her arms, moaning
+in an extremity of terror, and gibbering in her own tongue. For a while
+she could not tell them what was the matter. Stonor thought she was
+dreaming. Then she began to cry in English: &ldquo;Door! Door!&rdquo; and to point
+to it. Stonor made for the door, but Clare with a cry clung to him, and
+Mary herself, scrambling on all fours, clutched him around the knees.
+Stonor felt exquisitely foolish.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, let me secure it,&rdquo; he said gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>This door was fitted with a bar, which he swung into place. At the
+window across the room, he swung the shutter in, and fastened that also.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;No one can get in here now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They took the shaking Mary into the next room. To give them a better
+sense of security, Stonor tore the cotton out of the window and fastened
+this shutter also. There was no bar on this door. He preferred to leave
+it open, and to mount guard in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually Mary calmed down sufficiently to tell them what had happened.
+&ldquo;Little noise wake me. I not know what it is. I listen. Hear it again.
+Come from door. I watch. Bam-bye I see the door open so slow, so slow. I
+so scare can&rsquo;t cry. My tongue is froze. I see a hand pushin&rsquo; the door. I
+see a head stick in and listen. Then I get my tongue again. I cry out.
+Door close. I hear somebody runnin&rsquo; outside.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor and Clare looked at each other. &ldquo;Not much doubt about the kind of
+animal now,&rdquo; said the former deprecatingly.</p>
+
+<p>Clare spread out her hands. &ldquo;He must be mad,&rdquo; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Mary and Clare clung to each other like sisters. Stonor remained at the
+door watching the clear space between the shack and the river. Nothing
+stirred there. Stonor heard no more untoward sounds.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>Fortunately for the nerves of the women the nights were short. While
+they watched and prayed for the dawn, and told themselves it would never
+come, it was suddenly there. It came, and they could not see it come.
+The light stole between the trees; the leaves dressed themselves with
+colour. A little breeze came from the river, and seemed to blow the last
+of the murk away. By half-past three it was full day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must go out and look around,&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Clare implored him not to leave them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is necessary,&rdquo; he said firmly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your red coat is so conspicuous,&rdquo; she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is my safeguard,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;that is, against humans. As for animals,
+I can protect myself.&rdquo; He showed them his service revolver.</p>
+
+<p>He left them weeping. He went first to the big spruce-tree behind the
+house. He immediately saw, as he had expected, that a man had leaped out
+of the lower branches. There were the two deep prints of moccasined
+feet; two hand-prints also where he had fallen forward. He had no doubt
+come down faster than he had intended. It was child&rsquo;s play after that to
+follow his headlong course through the bush. Soon Stonor saw that he had
+slackened his pace&mdash;no doubt at the moment when Stonor turned back to
+the shack. Still the track was written clear. It made a wide detour
+through the bush, and came back to the door of the room where Mary had
+been sleeping. The man had taken a couple of hours to make perhaps three
+hundred yards. He had evidently wormed himself along an inch at a time,
+to avoid giving an alarm.</p>
+
+<p>When Mary cried out he had taken back to the bush on the other side of
+the shack. Stonor, following the tracks, circled through the bush on
+this side, and was finally led to the edge of the river-bank. The
+instant that he pushed through the bushes he saw that one of the
+bark-canoes was missing. Running to the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> where they lay, he saw
+that it was the one with the willow-bushes that was gone. No need to
+look any further. There was nothing in view for the short distance that
+he could see up-river.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX
+<span class="subtitle">THE FOOT</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Stonor, returning to the shack, was hailed with joy as one who might
+have come back from Hades unscathed. He told Clare just what he had
+found.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you think?&rdquo; she asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it clear? He saw us coming and took to the tree. There were so
+many tracks around the base of the tree that I was put off. He must have
+been hidden there all the time we were looking for him and shouting. As
+soon as it got dark he tried to make his get-away, but his calculations
+were somewhat upset by his falling. Even after we had taken warning, he
+had to risk getting into his store-room, because all his food was there.
+No doubt he thought we would all be in the other room, and he could
+sneak in and take what he could carry. When he was scared off by Mary&rsquo;s
+scream he started his journey without it, that&rsquo;s all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But why <em>should</em> he run from us&mdash;from me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor shrugged helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>She produced the little red book again. &ldquo;Read something here,&rdquo; she said,
+turning the pages.</p>
+
+<p>Under her directing finger, while she looked aside, he read: &ldquo;The
+hardest thing I have to contend against is my hunger for her. Discipline
+is of little avail against that. I spend whole days wrestling with
+myself, trying to get the better of it, and think I have conquered, only
+to be awakened at night by wanting her worse than ever.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Does that sound as if he wished to escape me?&rdquo; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>In her distress of mind it did not occur to her, of course, that this
+was rather a cruel situation for Stonor. He did not answer for a moment;
+then said in a low tone: &ldquo;I am afraid his mind is unhinged. You
+suggested it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; she said quickly. &ldquo;But I have been thinking it over. It can&rsquo;t
+be. Listen to this.&rdquo; She hastily turned the pages of the little book.
+&ldquo;What day is this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The third of July.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This was written June 30th, only four days ago. It is the last entry in
+the book. Listen!&rdquo; She read, while the tears started to her eyes:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must try to get in some good books on natural history. If I could
+make better friends with the little wild things around me I need never
+be lonely. There is a young rabbit who seems disposed to hit it off with
+me. I toss him a bit of biscuit after breakfast every morning. He comes
+and waits for it now. He eats it daintily in my sight; then, with a
+flirt of his absurd tail for &lsquo;thank you,&rsquo; scampers down to the river to
+wash it down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Those are not the thoughts of a man out of his mind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;but everything you have read shows him to be of a
+sensitive, high-strung nature. On such a man the sudden shock of our
+coming&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, then I have waited too long!&rdquo; she cried despairingly. &ldquo;And now I
+can never repay!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not necessarily,&rdquo; said Stonor with a dogged patience. &ldquo;Such cases are
+common in the North. But I never knew one to be incurable.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She took this in, and it comforted her partly; but her thoughts were
+still busy with matters remote from Stonor. After a while she asked
+abruptly: &ldquo;What do you think we ought to do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Start up the river at once,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll hear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> news of him on the
+way. We&rsquo;ll overtake him in the end.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She stared at him with troubled eyes, pondering this suggestion. At last
+she slowly shook her head. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think we ought to go,&rdquo; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&rdquo; he cried, astonished. &ldquo;You wish to stay here&mdash;after last night!
+Why?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she said helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if the man is really not right, he needs looking after. We ought to
+hurry after him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It seems so,&rdquo; she said, still with the air of those who speak what is
+strange to themselves; &ldquo;but I have an intuition, a premonition&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+know what to call it! Something tells me that we do not yet know the
+truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor turned away helplessly. He could not argue against a woman&rsquo;s
+reason like this.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, don&rsquo;t be impatient with me,&rdquo; she said appealingly. &ldquo;Just wait
+to-day. If nothing happens during the day to throw any light on what
+puzzles us, I will make no more objections. I&rsquo;ll be willing to start
+this afternoon, and camp up the river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It will give him twelve hours&rsquo; start of us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Her surprising answer was: &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think he&rsquo;s gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Stonor made his way over the old portage trail. He wished to have a look
+at the Great Falls before returning up-river. Clare, waiting for what
+she could not have told, had chosen to remain at the shack, and Mary
+Moosa was not afraid to stay with her by daylight. Like Stonor, Mary
+believed that the man had undoubtedly left the neighbourhood, and that
+no further danger was to be apprehended from that quarter.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor went along abstractedly, climbing over the obstructions or
+cutting a way through, almost oblivious to his surroundings. His heart
+was jealous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> and sore. His instinct told him that the man who had
+prowled around the shack the night before was an evil-doer; yet Clare
+persisted in exalting him to the skies. In his present temper it seemed
+to Stonor as if Clare purposely made his task as hard as possible for
+him. In fact, the trooper had a grievance against the whole world.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he realized that his brain was simply chasing itself in
+circles. Stopping short, he shook himself much like a dog on issuing
+from the water. His will was to shake off the horrors of the past night
+and his dread of the future. Better sense told him that only weakness
+lay in dwelling on these things. Let things fall as they would, he would
+meet them like a man, he hoped, and no more could be asked of him. In
+the meantime he would not worry himself into a stew. He went on with a
+lighter breast.</p>
+
+<p>From the cutting in the trail Stonor saw that someone had travelled that
+way a while before, probably during the previous season, for the cuts on
+green wood were half-healed. It was clear, from the amount of cutting he
+had been obliged to do, that this traveller was the first that way in
+many years. Stonor further saw from the style of his axe-work that he
+was a white man; a white man chops a sapling with one stroke clean
+through: a red man makes two chops, half-way through on each side. This
+was pretty conclusive evidence that Imbrie had first come from
+down-river.</p>
+
+<p>This trail had not been used since, and Stonor, remembering the
+suggestion in Imbrie&rsquo;s diary that he frequently visited the falls,
+supposed that he had some other way of reaching there. He determined to
+see if it was practicable to make his way along the beach on the way
+back.</p>
+
+<p>The trail did not take him directly to the falls, but in a certain place
+he saw signs of an old side-path striking off towards the river, and,
+following this, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> was brought out on a plateau of rock immediately
+above the spot where the river stepped off into space. Here he stood for
+a moment to prepare himself for the sight before looking over. His eye
+was caught by some ends of string fluttering from the branches of a bush
+beside him. He was at a loss to account for their presence until he
+remembered Etzooah and his humble offerings to the Old Man. Here Etzooah
+had tied his tobacco-bags.</p>
+
+<p>Approaching the brink, the river smoothed itself a little as if
+gathering its forces for the leap, and over the edge itself it slipped
+smoothly. It was true to a certain extent that the cataract muffled its
+own voice, but the earth trembled. The gorge below offered a superb
+prospect. After the invariable flatness and tameness of the shores
+above, the sudden cleft in the world impressed the beholder stunningly.</p>
+
+<p>Then Stonor went to the extreme edge and looked over. A deep, dull roar
+smote upon his ears; he was bewildered and satisfied. Knowing the Indian
+propensity to exaggerate, he had half expected to find merely a cascade
+wilder than anything above; or perhaps a wide straggling series of
+falls. It was neither. The entire river gathered itself up, and plunged
+sheer into deep water below. The river narrowed down at the brink, and
+the volume of water was stupendous. The drop was over one hundred feet.
+The water was of the colour of strong tea, and as it fell it drew over
+its brown sheen a lovely, creamy fleece of foam. Tight little curls of
+spray puffed out of the falling water like jets of smoke, and, spreading
+and descending, merged into the white cloud that rolled about the foot
+of the falls. This cloud itself billowed up in successive undulations
+like full draperies, only to spread out and vanish in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had the solemn feeling that comes to the man who knows himself to
+be among the first of his race<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> to gaze on a great natural wonder. He
+and Imbrie alone had seen this sight. What of the riddle of Imbrie?
+Doctor, magician, skulker in the night, madman perhaps&mdash;and Clare&rsquo;s
+husband! Must he be haunted by him all his life? But the noble spectacle
+before Stonor&rsquo;s eyes calmed his nerves. All will be clear in the end, he
+told himself. And nothing could destroy his thought of Clare.</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">He would liked to have remained for hours, but everything drew him back
+to the shack. He started back along the beach. On the whole it was
+easier going than by the encumbered trail. There were no obstacles
+except the low precipice that has been mentioned, and that proved to be
+no great matter to climb around. Meanwhile every foot of the rapid
+offered a fascinating study to the river-man. This rapid seemed to go
+against all the customary rules for rapids. Nowhere in all its torn
+expanse could Stonor pick a channel; the rocks stuck up everywhere. He
+noticed that one could have returned in a canoe in safety from the very
+brink of the falls by means of the back-waters that crept up the shore.</p>
+
+<p>His attention was caught by a log-jam out in the rapid. He had scarcely
+noticed it the day before while searching for tracks. Two great rocks,
+that stuck out of the water close together where the current ran
+swiftest, had at some time caught an immense fallen tree squarely on
+their shoulders, and the pressure of the current held it there. Another
+tree had caught on the obstruction, and another, and now the fantastic
+pile reared itself high out of the water.</p>
+
+<p>At the moment Stonor had no weightier matter on his mind than to puzzle
+how this had come about. Suddenly his blood ran cold to perceive what
+looked like a human foot sticking out of the water at the bottom of the
+pile. He violently rubbed his eyes, think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>ing that they deceived him.
+But there was no mistake. It <em>was</em> a foot, clad in a moccasin of the
+ordinary style of the country. While Stonor looked it was agitated back
+and forth as in a final struggle. With a sickened breast, he
+instinctively looked around for some means of rescue. But he immediately
+realized that the owner of the foot was long past aid. The movement was
+due simply to the action of the current.</p>
+
+<p>His brain whirled dizzily. A foot? Whose foot? Imbrie&rsquo;s? There was no
+other man anywhere near. But Imbrie knew the place so well he could not
+have been carried down, unless he had chosen to end his life that way.
+And his anxiety to obtain food the night before did not suggest that he
+had any intention of putting himself out of the way. Perhaps it was an
+Indian drowned up-river and carried down. But they would surely have
+heard of the accident on the way. More likely Imbrie. If his brain was
+unhinged, who could say what wild impulse might seize him? Was this the
+reason for Clare&rsquo;s premonition? If it was Imbrie, how could he tell her?</p>
+
+<p>Stonor forced down the mounting horror that constricted his throat, and
+soberly bethought himself of what he must do. Useless to speculate on
+whose the body might be; he had to find out. He examined the place up
+and down with fresh care. The log-jam was about half-a-mile above the
+falls, and a slightly lesser distance below Imbrie&rsquo;s shack. It was
+nearer his side of the river than the other; say, fifty yards of torn
+white water lay between the drift-pile and the beach. To wade or swim
+out was out of the question. On the other hand, the strongest flow of
+water, the channel such as it was, set directly for the obstruction, and
+it might be possible to drop down on it from above&mdash;if one provided some
+means for getting back again. Stonor marked the position of every rock,
+every reef above, and little by little made his plan.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>He returned to the shack. In her present state of nerves he dared not
+tell Clare of what he had found. In any case he might be mistaken in his
+supposition as to the identity of the body. In that case she need never
+be told. He was careful to present himself with a smooth face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Any news?&rdquo; cried Clare eagerly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been gone so long!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;Anything here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing. I am ready to go now as soon as we have eaten.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, faced with the necessity of suddenly discovering some reason for
+delaying their start, stroked his chin. &ldquo;Have you slept?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How could I sleep?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think you ought to start until you&rsquo;ve had some sleep.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can sleep later.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I need sleep too. And Mary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course! How selfish of me! We can start towards evening, then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>While Clare was setting the biscuits to the fire in the shack, and
+Stonor was chopping wood outside, Mary came out for an armful of wood.
+The opportunity of speaking to her privately was too good to be missed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a dead body caught in the rapids below
+here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wah!&rdquo; she cried, letting the wood fall. &ldquo;You teenk it is <em>him</em>?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. I suppose so. I&rsquo;ve got to find out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Find out? In the rapids? How you goin&rsquo; find out? You get carry over the
+falls!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not so loud! I&rsquo;ve got it all doped out. I&rsquo;m taking no unnecessary
+chances. But I&rsquo;ll need you to help me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I not help you,&rdquo; said Mary rebelliously. &ldquo;I not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> help you drown
+yourself&mdash;for a dead man. He&rsquo;s dead anyhow. If you go over the falls
+what we do? What we do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Easy! I told you I had a good plan. Wait and see what it is. Get her to
+sleep this afternoon, and we&rsquo;ll try to pull it off before she wakes. Now
+run on in, or she&rsquo;ll wonder what we&rsquo;re talking about. Don&rsquo;t show
+anything in your face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary&rsquo;s prime accomplishment lay in hiding her feelings. She picked up
+her wood, and went stolidly into the shack.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, searching among Imbrie&rsquo;s things, was much reassured to find a
+tracking-line. This, added to his own line, would give him six hundred
+feet of rope, which he judged ample for his purpose. He spliced the two
+while the meal was preparing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that for?&rdquo; Clare asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To help us up-stream.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he had eaten he went back to the beach. His movements here
+were invisible to those in the shack. He carried the remaining
+bark-canoe on his back down the beach to a point about a hundred and
+fifty yards above the log-jam. This was to be his point of departure. He
+took a fresh survey of the rapids, and went over and over in his mind
+the course he meant to take.</p>
+
+<p>After cutting off several short lengths that he required for various
+purposes, Stonor fastened the end of the line to a tree on the edge of
+the bank; the other end he made fast to the stern of the canoe&mdash;not to
+the point of the stern, but to the stern-thwart where it joined the
+gunwale. This was designed to hold the canoe at an angle against the
+current that would keep her out in the stream. The slack of the line was
+coiled neatly on the beach.</p>
+
+<p>With one of the short lengths Stonor then made an offset from this line
+near where it was fastened to the thwart, and passed it around his own
+body under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> the arms. Thus, if the canoe smashed on the rocks or
+swamped, by cutting the line at the thwart the strain would be
+transferred to Stonor&rsquo;s body, and the canoe could be left to its fate.
+Another short length with a loop at the end was made fast at the other
+end of the thwart. This was for the purpose of making fast to the
+log-jam while Stonor worked to free the body. A third piece of line he
+carried around his neck. This was to secure the body.</p>
+
+<p>During the course of these preparations Mary joined him. She reported
+that Clare was fast asleep. Stonor made a little prayer that she might
+not awaken till this business was over.</p>
+
+<p>He explained to Mary what he was about, and showed her her part. She
+listened sullenly, but, seeing that his mind was made up, shrugged at
+the uselessness of opposing his will. Mary was to pay out the rope
+according to certain instructions, and afterwards to haul him in.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, after reassuring himself of the security of all his knots, he
+divested himself of hat, tunic, and boots and stepped into the canoe. He
+shook hands with Mary, took his knife between his teeth, and pushed off.
+He made as much as he could out of the <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;backwater&rdquo;'>back-water</ins>
+<ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;along-shore&rdquo;'>alongshore</ins>, and then, heading diagonally up-stream, shot
+out into the turmoil, paddling like a man possessed in order to make
+sure of getting far enough out before the current swept him abreast of
+his destination. Mary, according to instructions, paid out the rope
+freely. Before starting he had marked every rock in his course, and he
+avoided them now by instinct. His thinking had been done beforehand. He
+worked like a machine.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that he was going to make it, with something to spare. When he
+had the log-jam safely under his quarter, he stopped paddling, and,
+bringing the canoe around, drifted down on it. There was plenty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> of
+water out here. He held up a hand to Mary, and according to
+pre-arrangement she gradually took up the strain on the line. The canoe
+slowed up, and the current began to race past.</p>
+
+<p>So far so good. The line held the canoe slightly broached to the
+current, thus the pressure of the current itself kept him from edging
+ashore. The log-pile loomed up squarely ahead of him. Mary let him down
+on it hand over hand. He man&oelig;uvred himself abreast an immense log
+pointing up and down river, alongside of which the current slipped
+silkily. Casting his loop over the stump of a branch, he was held fast
+and the strain was taken off Mary&rsquo;s arms.</p>
+
+<p>The moccasined foot protruded from the water at the bow of his canoe. He
+soon saw the impossibility of attempting to work from the frail canoe,
+so he untied the rope which bound him to it, and pulled himself out on
+the logs. The rope from the shore was still around his body in case of a
+slip. He was taking no unnecessary chances.</p>
+
+<p>The body was caught in some way under the same great log that his canoe
+was fastened to. The current tore at the projecting foot with a snarl.
+The foot oscillated continually under the pull, and sometimes
+disappeared altogether, only to spring back into sight with a ghastly
+life-like motion. Stonor cautiously straddled the log, and groped
+beneath it. His principal anxiety was that log and all might come away
+from the jam and be carried down, but there was little danger that his
+insignificant weight would disturb so great a bulk.</p>
+
+<p>The body was caught in the fork of a branch underneath. He succeeded in
+freeing the other foot. He guessed that a smart pull up-stream would
+liberate the whole, but in that case the current would almost surely
+snatch it from his grasp. He saw that it would be an impossible task
+from his insecure perch to drag the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> body out on the log, and in turn
+load it into the fragile canoe. His only chance lay in towing it ashore.</p>
+
+<p>So, with the piece of line he had brought for the purpose, he lashed the
+feet together, and made the other end fast to the bow-thwart of the
+canoe. Then he got in and adjusted his stern-line as before&mdash;it became
+the bow-line for the return journey. In case it should become necessary
+to cut adrift from the canoe, he took the precaution of passing a line
+direct from his body to that which he meant to tow. When all was ready
+he signalled to Mary to haul in.</p>
+
+<p>Now began the most difficult half of his journey. On the strength of
+Mary&rsquo;s arms depended the freeing of the body. It came away slowly.
+Stonor had an instant&rsquo;s glimpse of the ghastly tow bobbing astern,
+before settling down to the business in hand. For awhile all went well,
+though the added pull of the submerged body put a terrific strain on
+Mary. Fortunately she was as strong as a man. Stonor aided her all he
+could with his paddle, but that was little. He was kept busy fending his
+egg-shell craft off the rocks. He had instructed Mary, as the slack
+accumulated, to walk gradually up the beach. This was to avoid the
+danger of the canoe&rsquo;s broaching too far to the current. But Mary could
+not do it under the increased load. The best she could manage was to
+brace her body against the stones, and pull in hand over hand.</p>
+
+<p>As the line shortened Stonor saw that he was going to have trouble.
+Instead of working in-shore, the canoe was edging further into the
+stream, and ever presenting a more dangerous angle to the tearing
+current. Mary had pulled in about a third of the line, when suddenly the
+canoe, getting the current under her dead rise, darted out into
+mid-stream like a fish at the end of a line, and hung there canting
+dangerously. The current snarled along the gunwale like an animal
+preparing to crush its prey.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>The strain on Mary was frightful. She was extended at full length with
+her legs braced against an outcrop of rock. Stonor could see her
+agonized expression. He shouted to her to slack off the line, but of
+course the roar of the water drowned his puny voice. In dumb-play he
+tried desperately to show her what to do, but Mary was possessed of but
+one idea, to hang on until her arms were pulled out.</p>
+
+<p>The canoe tipped inch by inch, and the boiling water crept up its
+freeboard. Finally it swept in, and Stonor saw that all was over with
+the canoe. With a single stroke of his knife he severed the rope at the
+thwart behind him; with another stroke the rope in front. When the tug
+came on his body he was jerked clean out of the canoe. It passed out of
+his reckoning. By the drag behind him, he knew he still had the dead
+body safe.</p>
+
+<p>He instinctively struck out, but the tearing water, mocking his feeble
+efforts, buffeted him this way and that as with the swing of giant arms.
+Sometimes he was spun helplessly on the end of his line like a
+trolling-spoon. He was flung sideways around a boulder and pressed there
+by the hands of the current until it seemed the breath was slowly
+leaving his body. Dazed, blinded, gasping, he somehow managed to
+struggle over it, and was cast further in-shore. The tendency of the
+current was to sweep him in now. If he could only keep alive! The stones
+were thicker in-shore. He was beaten first on one side, then the other.
+All his conscious efforts were reduced to protecting his head from the
+rocks with his arms.</p>
+
+<p>The water may have been but a foot or two deep, but of course he could
+gain no footing. He still dragged his leaden burden. All the breath was
+knocked out of him under the continual blows, but he was conscious of no
+pain. The last few moments were a blank. He found himself in the
+back-water, and expended his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> last ounce of strength in crawling out on
+hands and knees on the beach. He cast himself flat, sobbing for breath.</p>
+
+<p>Mary came running to his aid. He was able to nod to her reassuringly,
+and in the ecstasy of her relief, she sat down suddenly, and wept like a
+white woman. Stonor gathered himself together and sat up groaning. The
+onset of pain was well-nigh unendurable. He felt literally as if his
+flesh all over had been pounded to a jelly. But all his limbs,
+fortunately, responded to their functions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lie still,&rdquo; Mary begged of him.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;I must keep moving, or I&rsquo;ll become as helpless as a
+log.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The nameless thing was floating in the back-water. Together they dragged
+it out on the stones. It was Stonor&rsquo;s first sight of that which had cost
+him such pains to secure. He nerved himself to bear it. Mary was no fine
+lady, but she turned her head away. The man&rsquo;s face was totally
+unrecognizable by reason of the battering it had received on the rocks;
+his clothes were partly in ribbons; there was a gaping wound in the
+breast.</p>
+
+<p>For the rest, as far as Stonor could judge, it was the body of a young
+man, and a comely one. His skin was dark like that of an Italian, or a
+white man with a quarter or eighth strain of Indian blood in his veins.
+Stonor was astonished by this fact; nothing that he had heard had
+suggested that Imbrie was not as white as himself. This put a new look
+on affairs. For an instant Stonor doubted. But the man&rsquo;s hand was
+well-formed and well-kept; and in what remained of his clothes one could
+still see the good materials and the neatness. In fact, it could be none
+other than Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>He was roused from his contemplation of the gruesome object by a sharp
+exclamation from Mary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> Looking up, he saw Clare a quarter of a mile
+away, hastening to them along the beach. His heart sank.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go to her,&rdquo; he said quickly. &ldquo;Keep her from coming here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary hastened away. Stonor followed more slowly, disguising his soreness
+as best he could. For him it was cruel going over the stones&mdash;yet all
+the way he was oddly conscious of the beauty of the wild cascade,
+sweeping down between its green shores.</p>
+
+<p>As he had feared, Clare refused to be halted by Mary. Thrusting the
+Indian woman aside, she came on to Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; she cried stormily. &ldquo;Why did you both leave me? Why
+does she try to stop me?&mdash;Why! you&rsquo;re all wet! Where&rsquo;s your tunic, your
+boots? You&rsquo;re in pain!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come to the house,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She would not be put off. &ldquo;What has happened? I insist on knowing now!
+What is there down there I mustn&rsquo;t see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be guided by me,&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;Come away, and I&rsquo;ll tell you
+everything.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I <em>will</em> see!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Do you wish to put me out of my mind with
+suspense?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He saw that it was perhaps kinder not to oppose her. &ldquo;I have found a
+body in the river,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Do not look at it. Let me tell you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She broke away from him. &ldquo;I must know the worst,&rdquo; she muttered.</p>
+
+<p>He let her go. She ran on down the beach, and he hobbled after. She
+stopped beside the body, and looked down with wide, wild eyes. One
+dreadful low cry escaped her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ernest!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She collapsed. Stonor caught her sagging body. Her head fell limply back
+over his arm.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X
+<span class="subtitle">THE START HOME</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Stonor, refusing aid from Mary, painfully carried his burden all the way
+back to the shack. He laid her on the bed. There was no sign of
+returning animation. Mary loosened her clothing, chafed her hands, and
+did what other offices her experience suggested. After what seemed like
+an age to the watchers, she stirred and sighed. Stonor dreaded then what
+recollection would bring to her awakening. But there was neither grief
+nor terror in the quiet look she bent first on one then the other; only
+a kind of annoyed perplexity. She closed her eyes again without
+speaking, and presently her deepened breathing told them that she slept.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank God!&rdquo; whispered Stonor. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the best thing for her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary followed him out of the shack. &ldquo;Watch her close,&rdquo; he charged her.
+&ldquo;If you want me for anything come down to the beach and hail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor procured another knife and returned to the body. In the light of
+Clare&rsquo;s identification he could have no further doubt that this was
+indeed the remains of the unhappy Imbrie. She had her own means of
+identification, he supposed. The man, undoubtedly deranged, must have
+pushed off in his canoe and let the current carry him to his death.
+Stonor, however, thinking of the report he must make to his commanding
+officer, knew that his speculations were not sufficient. Much as he
+disliked the necessity, it was incumbent on him to perform an autopsy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>This developed three surprising facts in this order: (a) there was no
+water in the dead man&rsquo;s lungs, proving that he was already dead when his
+body entered the water: (b) there was a bullet-hole through his heart:
+(c) the bullet itself was lodged in his spine.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Stonor thought of murder&mdash;but only for a moment. A glance
+showed him that the bullet was of thirty-eight calibre, a
+revolver-bullet. Revolvers are unknown to the Indians. Stonor knew that
+there were no revolvers in all the country round except his own,
+Gaviller&rsquo;s forty-four, and one that the dead man himself might have
+possessed. Consequently he saw no reason to change his original theory
+of suicide. Imbrie, faced by that terrible drop, had merely hastened the
+end by putting a bullet through his heart.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor kept the bullet as possible evidence. He then looked about for a
+suitable burial-place. His instinct was to provide the poor fellow with
+a fair spot for his last long rest. Up on top of the low precipice of
+rock that has been mentioned, there was a fine point of vantage visible
+up-river beyond the head of the rapids. At no small pains Stonor dragged
+the body up here, and with his knife dug him a shallow grave between the
+roots of a conspicuous pine. It was a long, hard task. He covered him
+with brush in lieu of a coffin, and, throwing the earth back, heaped a
+cairn of stones on top. Placing a flat stone in the centre, he scratched
+the man&rsquo;s name on it and the date. He spoke no articulate prayer, but
+thought one perhaps.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sleep well, old fellow. It seems I was never to know you, though you
+haunted me&mdash;and may perhaps haunt me still.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Dragging himself wearily back to the shack, Stonor found that Clare
+still slept.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; he said with clearing face. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no doctor like sleep!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>His secret dread was that she might become seriously ill. What would he
+do in that case, so far away from help?</p>
+
+<p>He sat himself down to watch beside Clare while Mary prepared the
+evening meal. There were still some three hours more of daylight, and he
+decided to be guided as to their start up-river by Clare&rsquo;s condition
+when she awoke. If she had a horror of the place they could start at
+once, provided she were able to travel, and sleep under canvas.
+Otherwise it would be well to wait until morning, for he was pretty
+nearly all in himself. Indeed, while he waited with the keenest anxiety
+for Clare&rsquo;s eyes to open, his own closed. He slept with his head fallen
+forward on his breast.</p>
+
+<p>He awoke to find Clare&rsquo;s wide-open eyes wonderingly fixed on him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>It struck a chill to his breast. Was she mad? This was a more dreadful
+horror than he had foreseen. Yet there was nothing distraught in her
+gaze, merely that same look of perplexed annoyance. It was an
+appreciable moment before he could collect his wits sufficiently to
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your friend,&rdquo; he said, forcing himself to smile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I think you are,&rdquo; she said slowly. &ldquo;But it&rsquo;s funny I don&rsquo;t quite
+know you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You soon will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is your name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin Stonor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that uniform you are wearing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mounted police.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She raised herself a little, and looked around. The puzzled expression
+deepened. &ldquo;What a strange-looking room! What am I doing in such a
+place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To Stonor it was like a conversation in a dream. It struck awe to his
+breast. Yet he forced himself to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> answer lightly and cheerfully. &ldquo;This
+is a shack in the woods where we are camping temporarily. We&rsquo;ll start
+for home as soon as you are able.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Home? Where is that?&rdquo; she cried like a lost child.</p>
+
+<p>A great hard lump rose in Stonor&rsquo;s throat. He could not speak.</p>
+
+<p>After a while she said: &ldquo;I feel all right. I could eat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s fine!&rdquo; he cried from the heart. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the main thing. Supper
+will soon be ready.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The next question was asked with visible embarrassment. &ldquo;You are not my
+brother, are you, or any relation?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, only your friend,&rdquo; he said, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>She was troubled like a child, biting her lip, and turning her face from
+him to hide the threatening tears. There was evidently some question she
+could not bring herself to ask. He could not guess what it was.
+Certainly not the one she did ask.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What time is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Past seven o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That means nothing to me,&rdquo; she burst out bitterly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s like the first
+hour to me. It&rsquo;s so foolish to be asking such questions! I don&rsquo;t know
+what&rsquo;s the matter with me! I don&rsquo;t even know my own name!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That was it! &ldquo;Your name is Clare Starling,&rdquo; he said steadily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What am I doing in a shack in the woods?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated before answering this. His first fright had passed. He had
+heard of people losing their memories, and knew that it was not
+necessarily a dangerous state. Indeed, now, this wiping-out of
+recollection seemed like a merciful dispensation, and he dreaded the
+word that would bring the agony back.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t ask any more questions now,&rdquo; he begged her. &ldquo;Just rest up for the
+moment, and take things as they come.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>&ldquo;Something terrible has happened!&rdquo; she said agitatedly. &ldquo;That is why I
+am like this. You&rsquo;re afraid to tell me what it is. But I must know.
+Nothing could be so bad as not knowing anything. It is unendurable not
+to have any identity. Don&rsquo;t you understand? I am empty inside here. The
+me is gone!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He arose and stood beside her bed. &ldquo;I ask you to trust me,&rdquo; he said
+gravely. &ldquo;I am the only doctor available. If you excite yourself like
+this only harm can come of it. Everything is all right now. You have
+nothing to fear. People who lose their memories always get them back
+again. If you do not remember of yourself I promise to tell you
+everything that has happened.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will try to be patient,&rdquo; she said dutifully.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she asked: &ldquo;Is there no one here but us? I thought I
+remembered a woman&mdash;or did I dream it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor called Mary in and introduced her. Clare&rsquo;s eyes widened. &ldquo;An
+Indian woman!&rdquo; their expression said.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said, as if speaking of the most everyday matter: &ldquo;Mary, Miss
+Starling&rsquo;s memory is gone. It will soon return, of course, and in the
+meantime plenty of food and sleep are the best things for her. She has
+promised me not to ask any more questions for the present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary paled slightly. To her, loss of memory smacked of insanity of which
+she was terribly in awe&mdash;like all her race. However, under Stonor&rsquo;s
+stern eye she kept her face pretty well.</p>
+
+<p>Clare said: &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to get up now,&rdquo; and Stonor left the shack.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing further happened that night. Clare ate a good supper, and a bit
+of colour returned to her cheeks. Stonor had no reason to be anxious
+concerning her physical condition. She asked no more questions.
+Immediately after eating he sent her and Mary to bed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> Shortly
+afterwards Mary reported that Clare had fallen asleep again.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor slept in the store-room. He was up at dawn, and by sunrise he had
+everything ready for the start up-river.</p>
+
+<p>It was an entirely self-possessed Clare that issued from the shack after
+breakfast, yet there was something inaccessible about her. Though she
+was anxious to be friends with Stonor and Mary, she was cut off from
+them. They had to begin all over again with her. There was something
+piteous in the sight of the little figure so alone even among her
+friends; but she was bearing it pluckily.</p>
+
+<p>She looked around her eagerly. The river was very lovely, with the sun
+drinking up the light mist from its surface.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What river is this?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor told her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is not altogether strange to me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I feel as if I might
+have known it in a previous existence. There is a fall below, isn&rsquo;t
+there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you suppose I knew that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the&mdash;the catastrophe happened down there,&rdquo; she said diffidently. He
+nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I feel it like a numb place inside me. But I don&rsquo;t want to go down
+there. I feel differently from yesterday. Some day soon, of course, I
+must turn back the dreadful pages, but not quite yet. I want a little
+sunshine and laziness and sleep first; a little vacation from trouble.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s just as it should be,&rdquo; said Stonor, much relieved.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it funny, I can&rsquo;t remember anything that ever happened to me, yet
+I haven&rsquo;t forgotten everything I knew. I know the meaning of things. I
+still seem to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> talk like a grown-up person. Words come to me when I need
+them. How do you explain that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I suppose it&rsquo;s because just one little department of your brain
+has stopped working for a while.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m not going to worry. The world is beautiful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">The journey up-stream was a toilsome affair. Though the current between
+the rapids was not especially swift, it made a great difference when
+what had been added to their rate of paddling on the way down, was
+deducted on the way back. Stonor foresaw that it would take them close
+on ten days to make the Horse-Track. He and Mary took turns tracking the
+canoe from the bank, while the other rested. Clare steered. Ascending
+the rapids presented no new problems to a river-man, but it was
+downright hard work. All hands joined in pulling and pushing, careless
+of how they got wet.</p>
+
+<p>The passing days brought no change in Clare&rsquo;s mental state, and in
+Stonor the momentary dread of some thought or word that might bring
+recollection crashing back, was gradually lulled. Physically she showed
+an astonishing improvement, rejoicing in the hard work in the rapids,
+eating and sleeping like a growing boy. To Stonor it was enchanting to
+see the rosy blood mantle her pale cheeks and the sparkle of bodily
+well-being enhance her eyes. With this new tide of health came a stouter
+resistance to imaginative terrors. Away with doubts and questionings!
+For the moment the physical side of her was uppermost. It was Nature&rsquo;s
+own way of effecting a cure. Towards Stonor, in this new character of
+hers, she displayed a hint of laughing boldness that enraptured him.</p>
+
+<p>At first he would not let himself believe what he read in her new gaze;
+that the natural woman who had sloughed off the burdens of an unhappy
+past was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> disposed to love him. But of course he could not really resist
+so sweet a suggestion. Let him tell himself all he liked that he was
+living in a fool&rsquo;s paradise; that when recollection returned, as it must
+in the end, she would think no more of him; nevertheless, when she
+looked at him like that, he could not help being happy. The journey took
+on a thousand new delights for him; such delights as his solitary youth
+had never known. At least, he told himself, there was no sin in it, for
+the only man who had a better claim on her was dead and buried.</p>
+
+<p>One night they were camped beside some bare tepee poles on a point of
+the bank. Mary had gone off to set a night-line in an eddy; Stonor lay
+on his back in the grass smoking, and Clare sat near, nursing her knees.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve forbidden me to ask questions about myself,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;but how
+about you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, there&rsquo;s nothing to tell about me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She affected to study him with a disinterested air. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe you
+have a wife,&rdquo; she said wickedly. &ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t a married look.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What kind of a look is that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, a sort of apologetic look.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, as a matter of fact, I&rsquo;m not married,&rdquo; he said, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you a sweetheart?&rdquo; she asked in her abrupt way, so like a boy&rsquo;s.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor regarded his pipe-bowl attentively, but did not thereby succeed
+in masking his blushes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aha! You have!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;No need to answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That depends on what you mean,&rdquo; he said, determined not to let her
+outface him. &ldquo;If you mean a regular cut and dried affair, no.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re in love.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some might say so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you say so?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. I&rsquo;ve had no instruction on the subject.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pshaw! It&rsquo;s a poor kind of man that needs instruction!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I daresay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me, and maybe I can instruct you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How can you tell the untellable?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, for instance, do you like to be with her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor affected to study the matter. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>She gave him so comical a look of rebuke that he laughed outright. &ldquo;I
+mean I&rsquo;m uncomfortable whether I&rsquo;m with her or away from her,&rdquo; he
+explained.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There may be something in that,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;Have you ever told
+her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you tell her like a man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Things are not as simple as all that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Obstacles, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rather!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A close observer might have perceived under Clare&rsquo;s scornful chaffing
+the suggestion of a serious and anxious purpose. &ldquo;Bless me! this is
+getting exciting!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Maybe the lady has a husband?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, not that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A glint of relief showed under her lowered lids. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the trouble,
+then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, just my general unworthiness, I guess.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think you can love her very much,&rdquo; she said, with pretended
+scorn.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; he said, refusing to be drawn.</p>
+
+<p>She allowed the subject to drop. It was characteristic of Clare in her
+lighter moments that her conversation skipped from subject to subject
+like a chamois on the heights. Those who knew her well, though, began to
+suspect in the end that there was often a method in her skipping. She
+now talked of the day&rsquo;s journey,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> of the weather, of Mary&rsquo;s good
+cooking, of a dozen minor matters. After a long time, when he might
+naturally be supposed to have forgotten what they had started with, she
+said offhand:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you mind if I ask one question about myself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fire away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You told me my name was Miss Clare Starling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you suspect otherwise?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What am I doing with a wedding-ring?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It took him unawares. He stared at her a little clownishly. &ldquo;I&mdash;I never
+noticed it,&rdquo; he stammered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s hanging on a string around my neck.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your husband is dead,&rdquo; he said bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>She cast down her eyes. &ldquo;Was that&mdash;the catastrophe that happened up
+here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>While he wished to keep the information from her as long as possible, he
+could not lie to her. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t ask any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She bowed as one who acknowledges the receipt of information not
+personally important. &ldquo;One more question; was he a good man, a man you
+respected?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; he said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>She looked puzzled. &ldquo;Strange I should feel no sense of loss,&rdquo; she
+murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You had been parted from him for a long time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They fell silent. The charming spell that had bound them was effectually
+broken. She shivered delicately, and announced her intention of going to
+bed.</p>
+
+<p>But in the morning she showed him a shining morning face. To arise
+refreshed from sleep, hungry for one&rsquo;s breakfast, and eager for the
+day&rsquo;s journey, was enough for her just now. She was living in her
+instincts. Her instinct told her that Stonor loved her, and that
+sufficed her. The dreadful things might wait.</p>
+
+<p>Having ascended the last rapid, they found they could make better time
+by paddling the dug-out, keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>ing close under the shore as the Kakisas
+did, and cutting across from side to side on the inside of each bend to
+keep out of the strongest of the current. The seating arrangement was
+the same as at their start; Mary in the bow, Stonor in the stern, and
+Clare facing Stonor. Thus all day long their eyes were free to dwell on
+each other, nor did they tire. They had reached that perfect stage where
+the eyes confess what the tongue dares not name; that charming stage of
+folly when lovers tell themselves they are still safe because nothing
+has been spoken. As a matter of fact it is with words that the way to
+misunderstanding is opened. One cannot misunderstand happy eyes.
+Meanwhile they were satisfied with chaffing each other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, I wonder how old I am.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He studied her gravely. &ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t say more than thirty-three or
+four.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wretch! I&rsquo;ll get square with you for that! I can start with any age
+I want. I&rsquo;ll be eighteen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right, if you can get away with it. If I could keep you up
+here awhile maybe you could knock off a little more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Martin, if one could only travel on this river for ever! It&rsquo;s so
+blessed not to have to think of things!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Suit me all right. But I suppose Mary wants to see her kids.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let her go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes fell under the rapt look that involuntarily leapt up in his. &ldquo;I
+mean we could get somebody else,&rdquo; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor pulled himself up short. &ldquo;Unfortunately there&rsquo;s the force,&rdquo; he
+said lightly. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t go back and report they&rsquo;ll come after me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is this place we are going to, Martin?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fort Enterprise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>&ldquo;I am like a person hanging suspended in space. I neither know where I
+came from, nor where I am going. What is Fort Enterprise like?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A trading-post.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your home?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Such as it is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why &lsquo;such as it is&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s a bit of a hole.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No society?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Society!&rdquo; He laughed grimly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t there any girls there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Devil a one!&mdash;except Miss Pringle, the parson&rsquo;s sister, and she&rsquo;s
+considerable oldish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know any real girls, Martin?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None but you, Clare.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She bent an odd, happy glance on him. It meant: &ldquo;Is it possible that I
+am the first with him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why do you look at me like that?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you&rsquo;re rather nice to look at,&rdquo; she said airily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thanks,&rdquo; he said, blushing. He was modest, but that sort of thing
+doesn&rsquo;t exactly hurt the most modest of men. &ldquo;Same to you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">They camped that night on a little plateau of sweet grass, and after
+supper Mary told tales by the fire. Mary, bland and uncensorious, was a
+perfect chaperon. What she thought of the present situation Stonor never
+knew. He left it to Clare to come to an understanding with her. That
+they shared many a secret from which he was excluded, he knew. Mary had
+soon recovered from her terror of Clare&rsquo;s seeming illness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This the story of the Wolf-Man,&rdquo; she began. &ldquo;Once on a tam there was a
+man had two bad wives. They had no shame. That man think maybe if he go
+away where there were no other people he can teach those women to be
+good, so he move his lodge away off on the prairie. Near where they camp
+was a high hill,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> and every evenin&rsquo; when the sun go under the man go up
+on top of the hill, and look all over the country to see where the
+buffalo was feeding, and see if any enemies come. There was a
+buffalo-skull on that hill which he sit on.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the daytime while he hunt the women talk. &lsquo;This is ver&rsquo; lonesome,&rsquo;
+one say. &lsquo;We got nobody talk to, nobody to visit.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Other woman say: &lsquo;Let us kill our husband. Then we go back to our
+relations, and have good time.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Early in the morning the man go out to hunt. When he gone his wives go
+up the hill. Dig deep pit, and cover it with sticks and grass and dirt.
+And put buffalo-skull on top.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When the shadows grow long they see their husband coming home all bent
+over with the meat he kill. So they mak&rsquo; haste to cook for him. After he
+done eating he go up on the hill and sit down on the skull. Wah! the
+sticks break, and he fall in pit. His wives are watching him. When he
+fall in they take down the lodge, pack everything, and travel to the
+main camp of their people. When they get near the big camp they begin to
+cry loud and tear their clothes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The people come out. Say: &lsquo;Why is this? Why you cry? Where is your
+husband?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Women say: &lsquo;He dead. Five sleeps ago go out to hunt. Never come back.&rsquo;
+And they cry and tear their clothes some more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When that man fall in the pit he was hurt. Hurt so bad can&rsquo;t climb out.
+Bam-bye wolf traveling along come by the pit and see him. Wolf feel
+sorry. &lsquo;Ah-h-woo-o-o! Ah-h-woo-o-o!&rsquo; he howl. Other wolves hear. All
+come running. Coyotes, badgers, foxes come too.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wolf say: &lsquo;In this hole is my find. It is a man trapped. We dig him out
+and have him for our brother.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All think wolf speak well. All begin to dig. Soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> they dig a hole
+close to the man. Then the wolf say: &lsquo;Wait! I want to say something.&rsquo;
+All the animals listen. Wolf say: &lsquo;We all have this man for our brother,
+but I find him, so I say he come live with the big wolves.&rsquo; The others
+say this is well, so the wolf tear down the dirt and drag the man out.
+He is almost dead. They give him a kidney to eat and take him to the
+lodge of the big wolves. Here there is one old blind wolf got very
+strong medicine. Him make that man well, and give him head and hands
+like wolf.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In those days long ago the people make little holes in the walls of the
+cache where they keep meat, and set snares. When wolves and other
+animals come to steal meat they get caught by the neck. One night wolves
+all go to the cache to steal meat. When they come close man-wolf say:
+&lsquo;Wait here little while, I go down and fix place so you not get caught.&rsquo;
+So he go and spring all the snares. Then he go back and get wolves,
+coyotes, badgers and foxes, and all go in the cache and make feast and
+carry meat home.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the morning the people much surprise&rsquo; find meat gone and snares
+sprung. All say, how was that done? For many nights the meat is stolen
+and the snares sprung. But one night when the wolves go there to steal
+find only meat of a tough buffalo-bull. So the man-wolf was angry and
+cry out:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Bad-you-give-us-ooo! Bad-you-give-us-ooo!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The people hear and say: &lsquo;It is a man-wolf who has done all this. We
+catch him now!&rsquo; So they put nice back-fat and tongue in the cache, and
+hide close by. After dark the wolves come. When the man-wolf see that
+good food he run to it and eat. Then the people run in and catch him
+with ropes and take him to a lodge. Inside in the light of the fire they
+see who it is. They say: &lsquo;This is the man who was lost!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;No. I not lost. My wives try to kill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> me.&rsquo; And he tell them
+how it was. He say: &lsquo;The wolves take pity on me or I die there.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When the people hear this they angry at those bad women, and they tell
+the man to do something about it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Man say: &lsquo;You say well. I give them to the Bull-Band, the Punishers of
+Wrong.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After that night those two women were never seen again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary Moosa, when one of her stories went well, with the true instinct of
+a story-teller could seldom be persuaded to follow it with another,
+fearing an anti-climax perhaps. She turned in under her little tent, and
+soon thereafter trumpeted to the world that she slept.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor and Clare were left together with self-conscious, downcast eyes.
+All day they had longed for this moment, and now that it had come they
+were full of dread. Their moods had changed; chaffing was for sunny
+mornings on the river; in the exquisite, brooding dusk they hungered for
+each other. Yet both still told themselves that the secret was safe from
+the other. Finally Clare with elaborate yawns bade Stonor good-night and
+disappeared under her tent.</p>
+
+<p>An instinct that he could not have analysed told him she would be out
+again. Half-way down the bank in a little grassy hollow he made a nest
+for her with his blankets. When she did appear over the top of the bank
+she surveyed these preparations with a touch of haughty surprise. She
+had a cup in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Were you going to spend the night here?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said, much confused.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is this for, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I just hoped that you might come out and sit for a while.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What reason had you to think that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No reason. I just hoped it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>&ldquo;Oh! I thought you were in bed. I just came out to get a drink.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, considerably dashed, took the cup and brought her water from the
+river. She sipped it and threw the rest away. He begged her to sit down.</p>
+
+<p>She sat in a tentative sort of way, and declined to be wrapped up. &ldquo;I
+can only stay a minute.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you a pressing engagement?&rdquo; he asked aggrievedly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One must sleep some time,&rdquo; she said rebukingly.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, totally unversed in the ways of women, was crushed by her
+changed air. He looked away, racking his brains to hit on what he could
+have done to offend her. She glanced at him out of the tail of her eye,
+and a wicked little dimple appeared in one cheek. He was sufficiently
+punished. She was mollified. But it was so sweet to feel her power over
+him, that she could not forbear using it just a little.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; he asked sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, nothing!&rdquo; she said with an indulgent smile, such as she might have
+given a small boy.</p>
+
+<p>An intuition told him that in a way it was like dealing with an Indian;
+to ask questions would only put him at a disadvantage. He must patiently
+wait until the truth came out of itself.</p>
+
+<p>In silence he chose the weapon she was least proof against. She tried to
+out-silence him, but soon began to fidget. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not very talkative,&rdquo;
+she said at last.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I only seem to put my foot in it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re very stupid.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No doubt.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She got up. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going back to bed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sorry, we don&rsquo;t seem to be able to hit it off after supper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to beat you!&rdquo; she cried with a little gust of passion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>This was more encouraging. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; he asked, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re so dense!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At last he understood, and a great peace filled him. &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; he said
+coaxingly. &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s be friends. We only have nine days more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This took her by surprise. She sat. &ldquo;Why only nine days?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When we get out your life will claim you. This little time will seem
+like a dream.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She began to see then, and her heart warmed towards him. &ldquo;Now I
+understand what&rsquo;s the matter with you!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You think that I am
+not myself now; that this me which is talking to you is not the real me,
+but a kind of&mdash;what do they call it?&mdash;a kind of changeling. And that
+when we get back to the world, or some day soon, this me will be whisked
+away again, and my old self come back and take possession of my body.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Something like that,&rdquo; he said, with a rueful smile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you hurt me when you talk like that!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You are wrong,
+quite, quite wrong! This is my ownest self that speaks to you now; that
+is&mdash;that is your friend, and it will never change! Think a little. What
+I have lost is not essential. It is only memory. That is to say, the
+baggage that one gradually collects through life; what was impressed on
+your mind as a child; what you pick up from watching other people and
+from reading books; what people tell you you ought to do; outside ideas
+of every kind, mostly false. Well, I&rsquo;ve chucked it all&mdash;or it has been
+chucked for me. Such as I am now, I am the woman I was born to be! And I
+will never change. I don&rsquo;t care if I never find my lost baggage. My
+heart is light without it. But if I do it can make no difference.
+Baggage is only baggage. And having once found your own heart you never
+could forget that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>They both instinctively stood up. They did not touch each other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you still doubt me?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will see. I understand you better now. I shall not tease you any
+more. Good-night, Martin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Clare.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI
+<span class="subtitle">THE MYSTERY</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Next morning, when they had been on the river for about three hours,
+they came upon their friend Etzooah, he of the famous hair, still
+hunting along shore in his canoe, but this time without the little boy.
+Stonor hailed him with pleasure; for of all the Kakisa Indians only this
+one had acted towards them like a man and a brother.</p>
+
+<p>But the policeman was doomed to disappointment. When they overtook
+Etzooah they saw that the red man&rsquo;s open, friendly look had changed. He
+turned a hard, wary eye on them, just like all the other Kakisas. Stonor
+guessed that he must have visited his people in the interim, and have
+been filled up with their nonsensical tales. Affecting to notice no
+change, Stonor said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are going to spell here. Will you eat with us?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No Indian was ever known to refuse a meal. Etzooah landed without a
+word, and sat apart waiting for it to be prepared. He made no offer to
+help, but merely sat watching them out of his inscrutable, beady eyes.
+Stonor, hoping to find him with better dispositions after he had filled
+up, let him alone.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the meal Etzooah said nothing except to answer Stonor&rsquo;s
+questions in monosyllables. He denied having been up to Ahcunazie&rsquo;s
+village. Stonor was struck by the fact that he made no inquiry
+respecting his friend Imbrie. Stonor himself did not like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> to bring up
+the subject of Imbrie in Clare&rsquo;s hearing. Altogether baffled by the
+man&rsquo;s changed air, he finally said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary, translate this just as I give it to you.&mdash;When the policeman come
+down the river he meet Etzooah. He is glad to see Etzooah. He say, here
+is a good man. Etzooah give the policeman good talk. They part friends.
+But when the policeman come back up the river Etzooah is changed. He is
+not glad to see the policeman. He gives him black looks. Why is that?
+Has anyone spoken evil of the policeman to Etzooah? He is ready to
+answer. He asks this in friendship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But it was all wasted on the Indian. He shrugged, and said with bland,
+unrelenting gaze: &ldquo;Etzooah not changed. Etzooah glad to see the
+policeman come back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When they had finished eating, Clare, guessing that Stonor could talk
+more freely if she were out of hearing, strolled away to a little
+distance and sat down to do some mending.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said to Etzooah through Mary: &ldquo;I have bad news for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Indian said: &ldquo;You not find White Medicine Man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is dead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah&rsquo;s jaw dropped. He stared at Stonor queerly. &ldquo;What for you tell
+me that?&rdquo; he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>The style of the question nonplussed Stonor for the moment. &ldquo;Why do I
+tell you? You said you were his friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah veiled his eyes. &ldquo;So&mdash;he dead,&rdquo; he said stolidly. &ldquo;I sorry for
+that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now it was perfectly clear to Stonor that while the man&rsquo;s first
+exclamation had been honest and involuntary, his later words were
+calculated. There was no trace of sorrow in his tones. It was all very
+puzzling.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>&ldquo;I think he must have been crazy,&rdquo; Stonor went on. &ldquo;He shoved off in his
+canoe, and let the current carry him down. Then he shot himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah still studied Stonor like a man searching for ulterior motives.
+Clearly he did not believe what he was being told. &ldquo;Why you think that?
+The falls never tell.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His body didn&rsquo;t go over the falls. It caught on a log-jam in the
+rapids.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know that log-jam. How you know his body there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I brought it ashore. Mary helped me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah smiled in a superior way.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, exasperated, turned to Mary. &ldquo;Make it clear to him that I am
+telling the truth if it takes half-an-hour.&rdquo; He turned away and filled
+his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>Mary presumably found the means of convincing the doubter. Etzooah lost
+his mask. His mouth dropped open; he stared at Stonor with wild eyes; a
+yellowish tint crept into the ruddy copper of his skin. This agitation
+was wholly disproportionate to what Mary was telling him. Stonor
+wondered afresh. Etzooah stammered out a question.</p>
+
+<p>Mary said in her impassive way: &ldquo;Etzooah say how we know that was the
+White Medicine Man&rsquo;s body?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Was there any other man there?&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>When this was repeated to the Indian he clapped his hands to his head.
+&ldquo;Non! Non!&rdquo; he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor indicated Clare. &ldquo;She said it was Imbrie&rsquo;s body. She was his
+wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah stared stupidly at Clare.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he started to rise.</p>
+
+<p>Mary said: &ldquo;He say he got go now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laid a heavy hand on the Indian&rsquo;s shoulder. &ldquo;Sit down! Not until
+this matter is explained. Perhaps the man did not kill himself. Perhaps
+he was murdered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>Etzooah seemed beside himself with terror.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ask him what he&rsquo;s afraid of?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He say he sick in his mind because his friend is dead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense! This is not grief, but terror. Tell him I want the truth now.
+I asked as a friend at first: now I ask in the name of the law.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah suddenly rolled away on the ground out of Stonor&rsquo;s reach. Then,
+springing to his feet with incredible swiftness, he cut for the water&rsquo;s
+edge. But Mary stuck out her leg in his path and he came to earth with a
+thud. Stonor secured him. Clare from where she sat looked up with
+startled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For the last time I ask you what you know about this matter,&rdquo; said
+Stonor sternly. &ldquo;If you refuse to answer, I&rsquo;ll carry you outside and put
+you in the white man&rsquo;s jail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah answered sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He say he know not&rsquo;ing,&rdquo; said Mary.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Get the tracking-line, and help me tie his hands and feet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When Etzooah saw that Stonor really meant to do what he said, he
+collapsed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He say he tell now,&rdquo; said Mary.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah spoke rapidly and tremblingly to Mary. Little doubt now that he
+was telling the truth, thought Stonor, watching him. The effect of his
+communication on the stolid Mary was startling in the extreme. She
+started back, and the same look of panic terror appeared in her eyes.
+She was unable to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For God&rsquo;s sake, what&rsquo;s the matter with you all?&rdquo; cried Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Mary moistened her dry lips. She faltered: &ldquo;He say&mdash;he say he so scare
+when you say you find Imbrie&rsquo;s body five sleeps ago because&mdash;because two
+sleeps ago Imbrie spell wit&rsquo; him beside the river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was the turn of Stonor&rsquo;s jaw to drop, and his eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> to stare.
+&ldquo;But&mdash;but this is nonsense!&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Clare could no longer contain her curiosity. &ldquo;What is the matter,
+Martin?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;redskin&rdquo;'>red-skin</ins> mumbo-jumbo,&rdquo; he answered angrily. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+soon get to the bottom of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lowering his voice, he said to Mary: &ldquo;Have him tell me exactly what
+happened two sleeps ago.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary translated as Etzooah spoke. &ldquo;Two sleeps ago. The sun was half-way
+to the middle of the sky. I spell down river near the rapids on the
+point where the tepee-poles are. I see White Medicine Man come paddling
+up. I moch surprise see him all alone because I know you gone down to
+see him. I call to him. He come on shore to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What kind of a canoe?&rdquo; asked Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kakisa canoe. Got willow-branches in it, for cause Eembrie sit on his
+knees and paddle, not like Kakisa.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was a convincing detail. Little beads of perspiration sprang out on
+Stonor&rsquo;s brow.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah went on: &ldquo;We talk&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Could he speak Kakisa?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No. We talk by signs. He know some Kakisa words. I teach him that. I
+say to him Red-coat and White girl gone down river to see you. You not
+see them? How is that? Eembrie laugh: say: &lsquo;I see them, but they not see
+me. Red-coat want to get me I guess, so I run away.&rsquo; Eembrie say: &lsquo;Don&rsquo;
+you tell Red-coat you see me.&rsquo; That is why I not want tell. I mean no
+harm. Eembrie is my friend. I not want police to get him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor scarcely heard the last words. His world was tumbling around his
+ears. But Etzooah&rsquo;s and Mary&rsquo;s sly, scared glances in his face brought
+him to himself. &ldquo;Anything more?&rdquo; he asked harshly.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah hastened on: &ldquo;Eembrie moch in a hurry. Not want spell. Say he
+come away so quick got no grub but duck him shoot. I got not&rsquo;ing but
+little rab<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>bit, but I say, come to my camp, got plenty dry meat, dry
+fish. So we paddle up river till the sun is near gone under. Eembrie not
+talk much. Eembrie not want come to my camp. Not want my wife, my
+brot&rsquo;er, my children see him. My camp little way from river. Eembrie
+wait beside the river. I go bring him dry meat, dry fish, matches and a
+hatchet. Eembrie go up river. That is all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The story had a convincing ring. So far as it went Stonor could scarcely
+doubt it, though there was much else that needed to be explained. It
+pricked the bubble of his brief happiness. How was he going to tell
+Clare? He had much ado to keep his face under the Indians&rsquo; curious
+glances. They naturally were ascribing their terrors to him. This idea
+caused him to smile grimly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What kind of a gun did Imbrie have?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Etzooah replied through Mary that he had not seen Imbrie&rsquo;s gun, that it
+was probably covered by his blankets.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor seemed to be pondering deeply on what he had heard. As a matter
+of fact, conscious only of the hurt he had received, he was incapable of
+consecutive thought. The damnable question reiterated itself. &ldquo;How am I
+going to tell Clare?&rdquo; Even now she was waiting with her eyes upon him
+for some word. He dared not look at her.</p>
+
+<p>He was roused by hearing Etzooah and Mary talking together in scared
+voices.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What does Etzooah say?&rdquo; he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Mary faltered: &ldquo;He say Eembrie got ver&rsquo; strong medicine. Him not stay
+dead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is nonsense. You saw the body. Could a man without a face come to
+life?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She asked Etzooah timidly if Imbrie&rsquo;s face was all right.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, what does he say?&rdquo; Stonor demanded with a scornful smile.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>&ldquo;He say Eembrie&rsquo;s face smooth lak a baby&rsquo;s,&rdquo; Mary replied with downcast
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If Etzooah&rsquo;s story is true it was another man&rsquo;s body that we buried,&rdquo;
+said Stonor dejectedly.</p>
+
+<p>He saw by the dogged expression on both red faces that they would not
+have this. They insisted on the supernatural explanation. In a way they
+loved the mystery that scared them half out of their wits.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What man&rsquo;s body was that?&rdquo; asked Etzooah, challengingly.</p>
+
+<p>And Stonor could not answer. Etzooah insisted that no other man had gone
+down the river, certainly no white man. Stonor knew from the condition
+of the portage trail that no one had come up from below that season.
+There remained the possibility that Imbrie had brought in a companion
+with him, but everything in his shack had been designed for a single
+occupant; moreover the diary gave the lie to this supposition. Etzooah
+said that he had been to Imbrie&rsquo;s shack the previous fall, and there was
+no other man there then. There were moments when the bewildered
+policeman was almost forced to fall back on the supernatural
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>It would never do for him, though, to betray bewilderment; not only the
+two Indians, but Clare, looked to him for guidance. He must not think of
+the wreck of his own hopes, but only of what must be done next. He rose
+stiffly, and gave Mary the word to pack up. At any rate his duty was
+clear. The fleeing Imbrie held the key to the mystery, and he must be
+captured&mdash;Imbrie, Clare&rsquo;s husband, and now a possible murderer!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, tell me what&rsquo;s the matter,&rdquo; Clare said again, as he held the
+dug-out for her to get in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you as soon as I get rid of this Indian,&rdquo; he said, with as
+easy an air as he could muster.</p>
+
+<p>He ordered Etzooah to take him to his camp, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> wished to search it,
+and to question his family. The Indian stolidly prepared to obey.</p>
+
+<p>It was at no great distance up-stream. It consisted of three tepees
+hidden from the river, a Kakisa custom dating from the days when they
+had warlike enemies. The tepees were occupied by Etzooah&rsquo;s immediate
+family, and the households respectively of his brother and his
+brother-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>The search and the examination revealed but one significant fact, and
+that corroborated Etzooah&rsquo;s story. Two days before he had undoubtedly
+come into camp and had taken meat and fish from their slender store.
+Exerting the prerogative of the head of the family, he had declined to
+tell them what he wanted it for, and the women recited the fact to
+Stonor as a grievance. It was a vastly relieved Etzooah that Stonor left
+among his relatives. The fear of being carried off among the white men
+remained with him until he saw the policeman out of sight. Stonor had
+warned him to say nothing of what had happened down-river.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor rejoined Clare and Mary, and they continued up-stream. Stonor had
+now to tell Clare what he had learned. She was waiting for it. In her
+anxious face there was only solicitude for him, no suspicion that the
+affair concerned herself. He had wished to wait until night, but he saw
+that he could not travel all day in silence with her. No use beating
+about the bush either; she was an intelligent being and worthy of
+hearing the truth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Clare,&rdquo; he began, avoiding her eyes, &ldquo;you know I told you how I found
+your husband&rsquo;s body in the river, but I did not tell you&mdash;I merely
+wished to spare you something horrible&mdash;that it was much mutilated by
+being thrown against the rocks, especially the face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She paled. &ldquo;How did you know then&mdash;how did we know that it was he?&rdquo; she
+asked, with a catch in her breath.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>&ldquo;You appeared to recognize it. You cried out his name before you
+fainted. I thought there must be certain marks known to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It appears we were mistaken. It must have been the body of another man.
+According to the story the Indian has just told, Imbrie went up the
+river two days ago. The story is undoubtedly true. There were details he
+could not have invented.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence. When he dared look at her, he saw with relief that
+she was not so greatly affected as he had feared. She was still thinking
+of him, Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin,&rdquo; she murmured, deprecatingly, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s no use pretending. I
+don&rsquo;t seem to feel it much except through you. You are so distressed.
+For myself it all seems&mdash;so unreal.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He nodded. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s natural.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She continued to study his face. &ldquo;Martin, there&rsquo;s worse behind?&rdquo; she
+said suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>He looked away.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You suspect that this man &hellip; my husband &hellip; whom I do not know &hellip;
+that other man &hellip; murder, perhaps?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>She covered her face with her hands. But only for a moment. When they
+came down she could still smile at him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, do not look so, or I shall hate myself for having brought all
+this on you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s silly,&rdquo; he said gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>She did not misunderstand the gruffness. &ldquo;Do not torment yourself so.
+It&rsquo;s a horrible situation, unspeakably horrible. But it&rsquo;s none of our
+making. We can face it. I can, if I am sure you will always&mdash;be my
+friend&mdash;even though we are parted.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He raised his head. After all she was the comforter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> &ldquo;You make me
+ashamed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Of course we can face it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps I can help you. I must try to remember now. We must work at it
+like a problem that does not concern us especially.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you the diary?&rdquo; he asked suddenly. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s essential now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did I have it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the side pocket of your coat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not there now. It&rsquo;s not among my things. I haven&rsquo;t seen it
+since&mdash;I came to myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He concealed his disappointment. &ldquo;Oh, well, if it was left in the shack
+it will be safe there. I&rsquo;m sure no Indian would go within fifty miles of
+the spot now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you any idea who the dead man could have been?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not the slightest. It&rsquo;s a black mystery.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII
+<span class="subtitle">IMBRIE</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Stonor went ashore at Ahcunazie&rsquo;s village, searched every tepee, and
+questioned the inhabitants down to the very children. The result was
+nil. The Indians one and all denied that Imbrie had come back up the
+river. Stonor was convinced that they were lying. He said nothing of
+what had happened down at the falls, though the young Kakisa, Ahteeah,
+displayed no little curiosity on his own account.</p>
+
+<p>They went on, making the best time they could against the current. Clare
+wielded a third paddle now. The river was no less beautiful; the brown
+flood moved with the same grace between the dark pines; but they had
+changed. They scarcely noticed it. When they talked it was to discuss
+the problem that faced them in businesslike voices. Like the Kakisas
+they searched the shores now, but they were looking for two-legged game.
+What other Indians they met on the river likewise denied having seen
+Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had in mind the fact that the devoted Kakisas could hide Imbrie
+in any one of a thousand places along the shores. It was impossible for
+him to make a thorough search single-handed, nor did he feel justified
+in remaining on the river with Clare. His plan was to return to Fort
+Enterprise as quickly as possible, making the best search he could by
+the way, and, after obtaining assistance, to return. In the end, unless
+he got out, the river would be like a trap for Imbrie. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> was quite
+likely that he understood this, and was even now struggling to get away
+as far as possible.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning of the tenth day after leaving Imbrie&rsquo;s shack they
+arrived at the Horse Track, and Ahchoogah&rsquo;s village. Their coming was
+hailed with the same noisy excitement, in which there was no trace of a
+welcome. Stonor instantly sought out the head man, and abruptly demanded
+to know when Imbrie had returned, and where he had gone. Ahchoogah, with
+the most perfect air of surprise, denied all knowledge of the White
+Medicine Man, and in his turn sought to question Stonor as to what had
+happened. It was possible, of course, that Ahchoogah&rsquo;s innocence was
+real, but he had the air of an accomplished liar. He could not quite
+conceal the satisfaction he took in his own fine acting.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor posted Clare at the door of the shack, whence she could overlook
+the entire village, with instructions to raise an alarm if she saw
+anybody trying to escape. Meanwhile, with Mary, he made his usual search
+among the tepees, questioning all the people. Nothing resulted from
+this, but on his rounds he was greatly elated to discover among the
+canoes lying in the little river the one with the peculiar notches cut
+in the bow-thwart. So he was still on his man&rsquo;s track! He said nothing
+to any one of his find.</p>
+
+<p>He set himself to puzzle out in which direction Imbrie would likely next
+have turned. Certainly not to Fort Enterprise; that would be sticking
+his head in the lion&rsquo;s mouth. It was possible Ahchoogah might have
+concealed him in the surrounding bush, but Stonor doubted that, for they
+knew that the policeman must soon be back, and their instinct would be
+to get the man safely out of his way. There remained the third Kakisa
+village at Swan Lake, seventy miles up the river, but in that case, why
+should he not have gone on in the canoe? However, Stonor learned from
+Mary that it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> was customary for the Kakisas to ride to Swan Lake. While
+it was three days&rsquo; paddle up-stream it could be ridden in a day. In
+fact, everything pointed to Swan Lake. If Imbrie was trying to get out
+of the country altogether the upper Swan provided the only route in this
+direction. Stonor decided to take the time to pay a little surprise
+visit to the village there.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor announced at large that he was returning to Fort Enterprise that
+same day. Ahchoogah&rsquo;s anxiety to speed his departure further assured him
+that he was on the right track. Collecting their horses and packing up,
+they were ready for the trail about five that afternoon. The Indians
+were more cordial in bidding them farewell than they had been in
+welcoming them. There was a suspicious note of &ldquo;good riddance&rdquo; in it.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour&rsquo;s riding they came to the first good grass, a charming
+little &ldquo;prairie&rdquo; beside the stream that Clare had christened Meander.
+Stonor dismounted, and the two women, reining up, looked at him in
+surprise, for they had eaten just before leaving the Indian village, and
+the horses were quite fresh, of course.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Would you and Mary be afraid to stay here all night without me?&rdquo; he
+asked Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not if it is necessary,&rdquo; she answered promptly. &ldquo;That is, if you are
+not going into danger,&rdquo; she added.</p>
+
+<p>He laughed. &ldquo;Danger! Not the slightest! I think I know where Imbrie is.
+I&rsquo;m going after him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare&rsquo;s eyes widened. &ldquo;I thought you had given him up for the present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t tell you back there, but I found his
+canoe among the others.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To the Kakisa village at Swan Lake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He saw Mary&rsquo;s expression change slightly, and took encouragement
+therefrom. Mary, he knew, divided between her loyalty to Clare and her
+allegiance to her own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> people, was in a difficult position. Stonor was
+very sure, though, that he could depend on her to stand by Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t you come far out of your way?&rdquo; Clare asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not so far as you might think. We&rsquo;ve been travelling south the last few
+miles. By crossing the Meander here and heading east through the bush
+I&rsquo;ll hit the Swan River in four miles or so. I&rsquo;ll be out of the bush
+long before dark. I&rsquo;ve heard there&rsquo;s a short-cut trail somewhere, if I
+only knew where to find it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He said this purposely within Mary&rsquo;s hearing. She spoke up: &ldquo;Other side
+this little prairie where the ford is. There the trail begins.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was not a little touched by this. &ldquo;Good for you, Mary!&rdquo; he said
+simply. &ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t forget it. You&rsquo;ve saved me a struggle through the
+bush.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary only looked inscrutable. One had to take her feelings for granted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When will you be back?&rdquo; Clare asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By land it&rsquo;s about ninety miles&rsquo; round trip. As I must ride the same
+horse the whole way, say three or four to-morrow afternoon. I won&rsquo;t take
+Miles Aroon, he&rsquo;s too valuable to risk. I&rsquo;ll ride the bay. If anything
+should delay me Tole Grampierre is due to arrive from the post day after
+to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They made camp beside the ford that Mary pointed out. Clare waved Stonor
+out of sight with a smile. His mind was at ease about her, for he knew
+of no dangers that could threaten her there, if her fears created none.</p>
+
+<p>The side trail was little-used and rough, and he was forced to proceed
+at a slow walk: the roughest trail, however, is infinitely better than
+the untrodden bush. This part of the country had been burned over years
+before, and the timber was poplar and fairly open. Long before dark he
+came into the main trail between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> the two Indian villages. This was
+well-travelled and hard, and he needed to take no further thought about
+picking his way; the horse attended to that. For the most part the going
+was so good he had to hold his beast in, to keep him from tiring too
+quickly. He saw the river only at intervals on his right hand in its
+wide sweeps back and forth through its shallow valley.</p>
+
+<p>He spelled for his supper, and darkness came on. Stonor loved travelling
+at night, and the unknown trail added a zest to this ride. The night
+world was as quiet as a room. Where one can see less one feels more. The
+scents of night hung heavy on the still air; the pungency of poplar, the
+mellowness of balsam, the bland smell of river-water that makes the skin
+tingle with desire to bathe, the delicate acidity of grass that caused
+his horse to whicker. The trail alternated pretty regularly between
+wooded ridges, where the stones caused him to slacken his pace, and long
+traverses of the turfy river-bottoms, where he could give his horse his
+head. Twice during the night he picketed his horse in the grass, and
+took a short nap himself. At dawn, from the last ridge, he saw the pale
+expanse of Swan Lake stretching to the horizon, and at sun-up he rode
+among the tepees of the Kakisa village.</p>
+
+<p>It was built on the edge of the firm ground bordering the lake, though
+the lake itself was still half a mile distant across a wet meadow. Swan
+Lake was not a true lake, but merely a widening of the river where it
+filled a depression among its low hills. With its flat, reedy shores it
+had more the characteristics of a prairie slough. As in the last
+village, the tepees were raised in a double row alongside a small stream
+which made its way across the meadow to the lake. In the middle of their
+village the stream rippled over shallows, and here they had placed
+stepping-stones for their convenience in crossing. Below it was sluggish
+and deep, and here they kept their canoes. These Kakisas used both
+dug-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>outs, for the lake, and bark-canoes for the river. The main body of
+the lake stretched to the west and south: off to Stonor&rsquo;s right it
+gradually narrowed down to the ordinary dimensions of the river.</p>
+
+<p>When Stonor reined up alongside the little stream not a soul was
+stirring outside the tepees. He had at least succeeded in taking them by
+surprise. The first man who stuck his head out, aroused by the dogs,
+was, to his astonishment, white. But when Stonor got a good look at him
+he could scarcely credit his eyes. It was none other than Hooliam, the
+handsome young blackguard he had deported from Carcajou Point two months
+before. Seeing the policeman, Hooliam hastily made to withdraw his head,
+but Stonor ordered him out in no uncertain terms. He obeyed with his
+inimitable insolent grin.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor dismounted, letting his reins hang. The well-trained horse stood
+where he left him. &ldquo;What are you doing here?&rdquo; the policeman demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just travelling,&rdquo; drawled Hooliam. &ldquo;Any objection?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take up your case later. First I want the white man Ernest Imbrie.
+Which tepee is he in?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hooliam stared, and a peculiar grin wreathed itself around his lips.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen no white man here,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Except myself. They call me a
+white man.&rdquo; He spoke English without a trace of the red man&rsquo;s clipped
+idiom.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor&rsquo;s glance of scorn was significant. It meant: &ldquo;What are you doing
+in the tepees, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the other was quite unabashed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get Myengeen for you,&rdquo; he said,
+turning to go.</p>
+
+<p>He seemed a bit too eager. Stonor laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+&ldquo;You stay where you are.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the little Kakisas had begun to appear from the tepees, the
+men hanging back bashfully, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> women and children peering from under
+flaps and under the edges of the tepees, with scared eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want Myengeen,&rdquo; said Stonor to the nearest man.</p>
+
+<p>All heads turned to a figure crossing the stream. Stonor waited for him,
+keeping an eye on Hooliam meanwhile. The individual who approached was a
+little larger than the average of the Kakisas; well-favoured, and with a
+great shock of blue-black hair hanging to his neck. He was quite
+sprucely dressed in store clothes. His close-set eyes and extremely
+short upper lip gave him a perpetual sneer. He had the walled look of a
+bold child caught in mischief. He came up to Stonor and offered his hand
+with a defiant air, saying: &ldquo;How!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor shook hands with him, affecting not to notice the signs of
+truculence. The other Indians, encouraged by the presence of their head
+man, drew closer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want Ernest Imbrie,&rdquo; Stonor said sternly. &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen could speak no English, but the spoken name and the tone were
+significant enough. He fell back a step, and scowled at Stonor as if he
+suspected him of a desire to make fun of him. Then his eyes went
+involuntarily to Hooliam. Stonor, following his glance, was struck by
+the odd, self-conscious leer on Hooliam&rsquo;s comely face. Suddenly it
+flashed on him that this was his man. His face went blank with
+astonishment. The supposed Hooliam laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is <em>this</em> Imbrie??&rdquo; cried Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen nodded sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>Hooliam said something in Kakisa that caused the surrounding Indians to
+grin covertly.</p>
+
+<p>And in truth there was a comic aspect to Stonor&rsquo;s dismay. His brain was
+whirling. This hardy young villain married to the exquisite Clare! This
+the saviour of the Indians! This the high-minded gentleman whose diary
+Clare had read to him! It was inex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>plicable. Yet Stonor suddenly
+remembered Hooliam&rsquo;s curiosity concerning the reports that were in
+circulation about the White Medicine Man; this was understandable now.
+But how could Clare have so stooped&mdash;&mdash;? Well, it must be left to time
+to unravel.</p>
+
+<p>He pulled himself together. &ldquo;So you&rsquo;re Imbrie,&rdquo; he said grimly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That was my dad&rsquo;s name,&rdquo; was the impudent reply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have to trouble you to take a journey with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the charge?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, we merely want to look into your doings up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have no right to arrest me without some evidence of wrong-doing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m going to arrest you anyhow, and take my chances of proving
+something on you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hooliam scowled and pulled at his lip.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor thought: &ldquo;You&rsquo;d give a lot to know how much I know, my man!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen addressed Imbrie. Stonor watched him narrowly. He could only
+understand one word, the man&rsquo;s name, &ldquo;Eembrie,&rdquo; but Myengeen&rsquo;s whole
+attitude to the other was significant. There was respect in it;
+admiration, not unmixed with awe. Stonor wondered afresh. Clearly there
+could be no doubt this was their White Medicine Man.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie said to Stonor, with his cynical laugh: &ldquo;I suppose you want to
+know what he&rsquo;s saying. I don&rsquo;t understand it all. I&rsquo;m just learning
+their lingo. But he&rsquo;s offering me the homage of the tribe or something
+like that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s more than you deserve,&rdquo; thought Stonor. Aloud he said: &ldquo;Imbrie, if
+you do what I tell you you can ride as you are. But if you want to make
+trouble I&rsquo;ll have to tie you up. So take your choice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t hanker after any hempen bracelets,&rdquo; said Imbrie. &ldquo;What do
+you want of me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>&ldquo;First of all order somebody to bring out all your gear and spread it on
+the ground.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s not much,&rdquo; said Imbrie. By word and by sign he communicated the
+order to one of the Kakisas. It seemed to Stonor that something was
+reserved.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian disappeared in the tepee and presently returned with Imbrie&rsquo;s
+&ldquo;bed,&rdquo; that is to say, a pair of heavy blankets and a small, grimy
+pillow, and Imbrie&rsquo;s hatchet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s all I brought,&rdquo; said Imbrie, &ldquo;except a little dried moose-meat,
+and that&rsquo;s eaten up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want your gun,&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t bring any.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then what are you wearing a cartridge-belt for?&rdquo; Imbrie shrugged
+airily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Produce your gun, or I&rsquo;ll tie you up, and search for it myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie spoke, and the Kakisa disappeared again, returning with a
+revolver, which he handed to Stonor. Stonor was careful not to betray
+the grim satisfaction he experienced at the sight of it. It was of
+thirty-eight calibre, the same as the bullet that reposed in his pocket.
+While not conclusive, perhaps, this was strong evidence. Since he had
+seen this man he had lost his dread of bringing the crime home to him.
+He wished to convict him now. He dropped the revolver in his side
+pocket, and held out his hand for the ammunition-belt, which was handed
+over.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now get a horse,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen objected with violent shakes of the head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He says he&rsquo;s got no horses to hand over,&rdquo; said Imbrie, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Make him understand that I will give a receipt for the horse. If it is
+not returned the company will pay in trade.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No spare horses,&rdquo; he says.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let him give you the horse you came on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>&ldquo;I walked.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor did not believe this for a moment. &ldquo;Very well then, you can walk
+back,&rdquo; he said coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie thought better of this. He entered into a colloquy with Myengeen
+which eventually resulted in a horse being caught and led up and
+saddled. Stonor gave a receipt for it as promised. Myengeen handled the
+bit of paper fearfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now mount!&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you going to let me have my breakfast?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll spell beside the trail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen became visibly excited and began to harangue Imbrie in a fiery
+style, with sidelong looks at the policeman. Stonor out of the tail of
+his eye saw answering scowls gather on the faces of the other Indians as
+they listened. Myengeen&rsquo;s gestures were significant; with a sweep of his
+arm he called attention to the number of his followers, and then pointed
+to Stonor, who was but one.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie said with a sneering laugh: &ldquo;He&rsquo;s telling me that I have only to
+say the word, and you&rsquo;ll never take me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rubbish!&rdquo; said Stonor coolly. &ldquo;Men do not oppose the police.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They could not understand the words, but the tone intimidated them.
+Their eyes bolted as he looked sternly from man to man. He saw that look
+of angry pain come into their eyes that he knew in their race. It was
+not that they did not wish to defy him, but they dared not, and they
+knew they dared not.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m helping you out, old man,&rdquo; said Imbrie, with airy impudence.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m telling them I don&rsquo;t mind going with you, because you&rsquo;ve got
+nothing in the world against me. I&rsquo;m going to give them some good advice
+now. Listen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He did indeed address Myengeen earnestly at some length. Stonor could
+not guess what he was saying,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> for he used no gestures. He saw that it
+was true Imbrie was unpractised in their tongue, for he spoke with
+difficulty, hesitating for words, and they had to pay close attention to
+get his meaning. Myengeen listened with a face as inscrutable as
+Imbrie&rsquo;s own. At the end he nodded with an expression of approval, and
+bent a queer look on Stonor that the trooper was unable to fathom.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie then tied his bed behind his saddle and swung himself on the
+horse. Stonor signed to him to start first, and they trotted out from
+among the tepees. Stonor sat stiffly with the butt of his gun on his
+thigh, and disdained to look around. The instant they got in motion a
+wailing sound swept from tepee to tepee. Stonor wondered greatly at the
+hold this fellow had obtained over the simple people; even the Kakisas,
+it seemed to him, should have been able to see that he was no good.</p>
+
+<p>They trotted smartly over the first ridge and out of sight. A long,
+grassy bottom followed. When they had put what Stonor considered a safe
+distance between them and the village, he called a halt. Picketing the
+horses, and building a fire, he set about preparing their simple meal.
+Imbrie seemed willing enough to do his share of unpacking, fetching wood
+and water, etc.; indeed in his cynical way he was almost good-natured.</p>
+
+<p>As they sat over their meal he said tauntingly: &ldquo;Why are you afraid to
+tell me what the charge is against me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had no intention of letting out what he knew. He figured that
+Imbrie&rsquo;s mind was probably perfectly at ease regarding the
+murder&mdash;always supposing there had been a murder&mdash;because he could not
+possibly guess that the body had not been carried over the falls. He
+retorted: &ldquo;If your conscience is easy, what do you care what charge is
+made?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Naturally I want to know why I&rsquo;m obliged to upset all my plans to make
+this journey.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>&ldquo;There is no charge yet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But when you bring me in you&rsquo;ll have to make some kind of a charge.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I suppose they&rsquo;ll merely ask you to explain your business up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if I stand on my rights as a free man, and refuse to tell my
+business?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor shrugged. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s not up to me. I shan&rsquo;t be the one to question
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it a crime to live alone?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No. But why did you run away when I came to see you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t run away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t know what you call it, then. When you saw us coming you hid in a
+tree.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who was us?&rdquo; asked Imbrie, with a leer.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor could not bring himself to name Clare&rsquo;s name to the man. &ldquo;I think
+you know,&rdquo; he said quietly. &ldquo;When night came you fell or jumped out of
+the tree, and took to the bush. Later you attempted to sneak into the
+house&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, it was my own house, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure, that&rsquo;s what puzzles me. What were you afraid of? Then when the
+Indian woman screamed you lit out for the beach, and beat it up the
+river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, was that a crime?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, only a suspicious circumstance. Frankly, now, don&rsquo;t you consider
+yourself a suspicious character?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s your business to suspect everybody!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, when I first met you, why did you lie to me concerning your
+identity?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t lie. I just kept the truth to myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You told me your name was Hooliam.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t a man have more than one baptismal name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it Ernest William, or William Ernest?&rdquo; asked Stonor mockingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t tell you. I shan&rsquo;t tell you anything about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> myself until I
+know what I&rsquo;m wanted for. I suppose that&rsquo;s my right, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure!&rdquo; said Stonor good-naturedly. &ldquo;Anything you like. Travellers must
+be saying something to each other.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Imbrie was not content to let the matter drop. There was a little
+gnawing anxiety somewhere. He burst out: &ldquo;And have I got to put myself
+to the trouble of taking this long journey, just because you&rsquo;re too
+thick-witted to understand my perfectly natural motives?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put it that way if you like,&rdquo; said Stonor, grinning. &ldquo;The police <em>are</em>
+thick sometimes in dealing with clever fellows like you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;ll tell you. I came up to this country because I choose to live
+alone. My reasons are my own affair. I&rsquo;m not wanted by the police of
+this or any other country. But I don&rsquo;t choose to be spied on and
+followed up. That&rsquo;s why I got out of the way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you live alone down there?&rdquo; asked Stonor casually.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, there was that lady who left Carcajou Point with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, that was just a temporary affair,&rdquo; said Imbrie, with a leer.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, thinking of Clare, could have struck him for it. With an effort
+he swallowed his rage. &ldquo;Did you never have any visitors?&rdquo; he asked
+coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie favoured him with a lightning glance. &ldquo;What put that idea into
+your head?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor lied in the good cause. &ldquo;One of the Indians said you had a
+visitor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just a few days before we went down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What kind of visitor?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A man much like yourself,&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>Imbrie lost his grin for the moment. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a lie,&rdquo; he said thickly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, well, it&rsquo;s no crime to have a visitor,&rdquo; said Stonor smoothly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie saw his mistake, and quickly commanded himself. He laughed
+easily. &ldquo;Just my way,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m cracked on the subject of living
+alone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They had to spell at short intervals during the day, for Stonor&rsquo;s horse
+was growing very tired. Whenever they halted they began to fence with
+words in much the same way, each trying to discover the other&rsquo;s weak
+joint without letting down his own guard. It seemed to Stonor that,
+under his cynical insolence, his prisoner was growing ever more anxious.</p>
+
+<p>On one occasion Imbrie said with a careless air: &ldquo;Did you see the big
+falls when you were down the river?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Stonor instantly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very fine sight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It occurred to Stonor that a certain amount of curiosity on his part
+would appear natural. &ldquo;What are they like?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie looked at him through slightly narrowed lids. &ldquo;Big horse-shoe
+effect. The water falls all around in a sort of half-circle, and there
+are tremendous rocks below. The water falls on the rocks.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This description sounded purposely misleading. The place, of course, was
+not like that at all. Stonor thought: &ldquo;What does he tell me that for?
+Living there all that time, it isn&rsquo;t possible he hasn&rsquo;t seen the falls.
+In his diary he mentioned going there.&rdquo; Suddenly the explanation came to
+him. &ldquo;I know! He&rsquo;s trying to tempt me to call him a liar, and then he&rsquo;ll
+know I&rsquo;ve been there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Must be great!&rdquo; he said offhand.</p>
+
+<p>During the last spell Imbrie slept part of the time. Stonor dared not
+close his eyes, though he needed sleep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> sorely. He sat smoking and
+watching Imbrie, trying to speculate on what lay behind that smooth,
+comely mask.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s like a book I read once,&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;A man had two natures in
+him, one good, one bad. At one time the good nature would have the upper
+hand; at another time the bad. He was like two entirely different
+people. A case of double personality, they called it. It must be
+something like that with this man. Clare married the good man in him,
+and the bad turned up later. No doubt that was why she left him. Then
+the good man reappeared, and she felt she had done him a wrong. It
+explains everything.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But a theory may work too perfectly to fit the haphazard facts of life.
+There was still the dead man to be explained. And a theory, however
+perfect, did not bring him any nearer to solving the personal problems
+concerned. What was one to do with a man who was at once sane and
+irresponsible? He could give up Clare like a man, he told himself, if it
+were necessary to her happiness; but to give her up to this&mdash;&mdash;! He
+jumped up and shook himself with the gesture that was becoming habitual.
+He could not allow himself to dwell on that subject; frenzy lay that
+way.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII
+<span class="subtitle">THE RESCUE</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>They had struck off from the main trail between the two Indian villages,
+and were within a mile or two of Stonor&rsquo;s camp. Their pace was slow, for
+the going was bad, and Stonor&rsquo;s horse was utterly jaded. The trooper&rsquo;s
+face was set in grim lines. He was thinking of the scene that waited
+ahead.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie, too, had the grace to look anxious and downcast. He had been
+exasperatingly chipper all the way, until it had occurred to him just
+now to ask Stonor what he had done with the women. Upon learning that
+they were waiting just ahead, his feathers drooped. A whine crept into
+his voice, and, without saying anything definite, he began to hedge in
+an odd way.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The truth about this case hasn&rsquo;t come out yet,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I never thought it had,&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, a man under arrest has the right to lie to protect his interests,
+at least until he has the opportunity to consult a lawyer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure, and an officer has the right to draw his own inferences from the
+lies.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hell! I don&rsquo;t care what you think. As you said, you&rsquo;re not going to try
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When did you lie to me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if I thought it necessary to lie to you awhile ago, I&rsquo;m not going
+to tell the truth now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right. Why bring the matter up?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>&ldquo;I just wanted to warn you not to jump to conclusions.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The trooper was dead tired, and dead sick of gazing at the smooth, evil
+face of his companion. &ldquo;Oh, go to hell!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You talk too much!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie subsided into a sullen silence.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor thought: &ldquo;For some reason he&rsquo;s afraid of meeting Clare. I suppose
+that&rsquo;s natural enough when he&rsquo;s like this. He must know what&rsquo;s the
+matter with him. Probably he hates everything connected with his better
+side. Well, if he doesn&rsquo;t want Clare it may simplify matters.&rdquo; Thus he
+was still making his theory work.</p>
+
+<p>At last they came out from among the trees, and the little grassy valley
+of the Meander lay below them. There were the three little tents pitched
+on the other side of the stream, and the four horses quietly grazing in
+the bottom. Mary was baking bread at the fire. It was a picture of
+peace, and Stonor&rsquo;s first anxiety for their safety was relieved.</p>
+
+<p>He had not the heart to hail them; they would see soon enough. And
+almost immediately Mary did look up and see the two horsemen. She spoke
+over her shoulder, and Clare quickly appeared from her tent. The two
+women awaited them motionless.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie still rode ahead, hunched in his saddle. He glanced over his
+shoulder, and Stonor saw that a sickly yellow tint had crept under his
+skin. He looked at Stonor&rsquo;s failing horse. Suddenly he clapped heels to
+his own beast, and, jerking the animal&rsquo;s head round, circled Stonor and
+attempted to regain the trail behind him. He evidently counted on the
+fact that the policeman would be unable to follow.</p>
+
+<p>To urge his spent beast to a run would only have been to provoke a fall.
+Stonor made no attempt to follow. Pulling his horse round, he whipped up
+his gun and fired into the air. It was sufficient. Imbrie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> pulled up.
+Stonor possessed himself of the other&rsquo;s bridle-rein and turned him round
+again. They said nothing to each other.</p>
+
+<p>They splashed across the shallow ford. On the other side Stonor curtly
+bade Imbrie to dismount and ungirth. He did likewise. Clare and Mary
+awaited their coming at a few paces&rsquo; distance. Clare&rsquo;s eyes were fixed
+on Imbrie with a painful intensity. Curiosity and apprehension were
+blended in her gaze. Imbrie avoided looking at her as long as possible.</p>
+
+<p>They turned out the weary beasts to the grass, and Stonor marched his
+prisoner up to Clare&mdash;there was no use trying to hedge with what had to
+be gone through.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here is Imbrie,&rdquo; he said laconically.</p>
+
+<p>The man moistened his dry lips, and mustered a kind of bravado. &ldquo;Hello,
+Clare!&rdquo; he said flippantly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you recognize him?&rdquo; asked Stonor&mdash;dreading her answer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;perhaps,&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;I feel that I have seen him
+before somewhere.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie&rsquo;s face underwent an extraordinary change. He stared at Clare
+dumbfounded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re sure,&rdquo; murmured Clare uncertainly to Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, this is the Kakisas&rsquo; White Medicine Man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie turned sharply to Stonor. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with her?&rdquo; he
+demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s temporarily lost her memory.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lost her memory!&rdquo; echoed Imbrie incredulously. He stared at Clare with
+sharp, eager eyes that transfixed her like a spear. She turned away to
+escape it. Imbrie drew a long breath, the ruddy colour returned to his
+cheeks, the old impudent grin wreathed itself about his lips once more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Too bad!&rdquo; he said, with a leer. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t recognize your hubby!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>Clare shrank back, and involuntarily flung an arm up over her face.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor saw red. &ldquo;Hold your tongue!&rdquo; he cried, suddenly beside himself.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie cringed from the clenched fist. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t a man speak to his wife?&rdquo;
+he snarled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Speak to her with respect, or I&rsquo;ll smash you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You daren&rsquo;t! You&rsquo;ve got to treat me well. It&rsquo;s regulations.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Damn the regulations! You mind what I tell you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie looked from one to another with insufferable malice. &ldquo;Ah! So
+that&rsquo;s the way the wind lies,&rdquo; he drawled.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor turned on his heel and walked away, grinding his teeth in the
+effort to get a grip on himself.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie was never one to forego such an advantage. He looked from one to
+another with bright, spiteful eyes. When Stonor came back he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must excuse me if I gave you a turn. To tell the truth, a man
+forgets how attractive his wife is. I&rsquo;m sorry I had to turn up, old man.
+Perhaps you didn&rsquo;t know that she had a Mrs. to her name. She took back
+her maiden name, they told me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I knew it very well,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;Since before we started to look for
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if you knew it, that&rsquo;s your look-out,&rdquo; said Imbrie. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t
+say I didn&rsquo;t do my best to keep out of your way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was intolerable. Stonor suddenly bethought himself what to do. In a
+low voice he bade Mary bring him the tracking-line. Imbrie, who stood
+stroking his chin and surveying them with the air of master of the
+situation, lost countenance when he saw the rope. Stonor cut off an end
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that for?&rdquo; demanded Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>&ldquo;Turn round and put your hands behind you,&rdquo; said the policeman.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie defiantly folded his arms.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor smiled. &ldquo;If you resist my orders,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;there is no
+need for me to hold my hand.&mdash;Put your hands behind you!&rdquo; he suddenly
+rasped.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie thought better to obey. Stonor bound his wrists firmly together.
+He then led Imbrie a hundred yards from their camp, and, making him sit
+in the grass, tied his ankles and invited him to meditate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get square with you for this, old man!&rdquo; snarled Imbrie. &ldquo;You had
+no right to tie me up!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t like the style of your conversation,&rdquo; said Stonor coolly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re damn right, you didn&rsquo;t! You snivelling preacher! You snooper
+after other men&rsquo;s wives! Oh, I&rsquo;ve got you where I want you now! Any
+charge you bring against me will look foolish when I tell them&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell them what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell them you&rsquo;re after her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor walked away and left the man.</p>
+
+<p>Clare still stood in the same place like a carven woman. She waited for
+him with wide, harassed eyes. As he came to her she said simply:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is worse than I expected.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The man is not right in his head!&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;There is something
+queer. Don&rsquo;t pay any attention to him. Don&rsquo;t think of him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I must think of him; I can&rsquo;t escape it. What do you mean by not
+right?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A screw loose somewhere. What they call a case of double personality,
+perhaps. It is the only way to reconcile what you told me about him and
+what we see.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare&rsquo;s glance was turned inward in the endeavour to solve the riddle of
+her own blind spot. She said slowly: &ldquo;I have known him somewhere; I am
+sure of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> that. But he is strange to me. He makes my blood run cold. I
+cannot explain it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do not brood on it,&rdquo; urged Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>She transferred her thoughts to Stonor. &ldquo;You look utterly worn out. Will
+you sleep now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes. We won&rsquo;t leave here until morning. My horse must have a good
+rest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;d wait for him, but not for yourself!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tole ought to be along in the morning to help pack, and to guard the
+prisoner.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Before Stonor had a chance to lie down, Imbrie called him. There was a
+propitiatory note in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>The trooper went to him. &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo; he asked sternly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Say, I&rsquo;m sorry I riled you, Sergeant,&rdquo; said Imbrie with a grin. &ldquo;I was
+a bit carried off my feet by the situation. I&rsquo;ll be more careful
+hereafter. Untie this damned rope, will you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor slowly shook his head. &ldquo;I think we&rsquo;re both better off with a
+little distance between us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie repented of his honeyed tones. His lip curled back. But he made
+an effort to control himself. &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you afraid your spotless
+reputation will suffer?&rdquo; he asked, sneering.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a bit!&rdquo; said Stonor promptly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie was taken aback. &ldquo;Well&mdash;can I speak to my wife for a minute?&rdquo; he
+asked sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor observed, wincing, how he loved to bring out the word &ldquo;wife.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s up to her,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll put it to her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Returning to Clare, he said: &ldquo;He wants to speak to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She shrank involuntarily. &ldquo;What should I do, Martin?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see nothing to be gained by it,&rdquo; said Stonor quickly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>&ldquo;But if, as you say, in a way he&rsquo;s sick, perhaps I ought&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s not too sick to have a devil in him. Leave him alone!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. She was gaining in firmness. &ldquo;It won&rsquo;t hurt me to
+hear what he has to say. It may throw some light on the situation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I doubt it,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;His object is to raise as much dust as
+possible. But go ahead. If he&rsquo;s insulting, leave him instantly. And
+don&rsquo;t let him know what I suspect him of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She went, and Stonor walked up and down in the grass in a fever until
+she returned. She was with Imbrie some little time. Stonor could not
+guess of what they talked. Clare&rsquo;s white composed face, and Imbrie&rsquo;s
+invariable grin, told him nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The instant she came towards him he burst out: &ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t annoy you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. &ldquo;No, he seemed quite anxious to please. He
+apologized for what he said before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said, blushing and scowling: &ldquo;Perhaps you do not care to tell me
+what you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo; she said, with a quick look. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be silly, Martin. It
+was just what you might expect. Nothing important. He asked me dozens of
+questions as to what we did down the river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You did not tell him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How could I? Apparently he is greatly puzzled by my condition. He seems
+not fully to believe, or at least he pretends not to believe, that I
+cannot remember. He tried to work on my feelings to get you to liberate
+him. And of course he was most anxious to know what he was wanted for. I
+told him I could not interfere in your affairs, that&rsquo;s all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin,&rdquo; she said, with the withdrawn look that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> he had marked before,
+&ldquo;I cannot remember anything, yet I am conscious of a deep resentment
+against this man. At some time in the past he has injured me cruelly, I
+am sure.&mdash;Yet I told you I had injured him, didn&rsquo;t I?&rdquo; She passed a hand
+across her face. &ldquo;It is very puzzling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t worry!&rdquo; he said cheerily. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s bound to be made clear in the
+end.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wish to do all the worrying, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; she said, with a wry
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>He could not meet her dear eyes. &ldquo;Worry nothing!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I only have
+one idea in my mind, and that is to get some sleep!&rdquo; He bustled to get
+his blankets.</p>
+
+<p>They awoke him for the evening meal. After eating, he inspected his
+camp, sent Clare to bed, moved Imbrie closer, instructed Mary to keep
+watch that he did not succeed in freeing himself, and went back to sleep
+again. Mary was to call him at dawn, and they would take the trail at
+sunrise.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the night he was brought leaping to his feet by a cry
+out of the dark: a cry that was neither from wolf, coyote, nor
+screech-owl. Wakened from a deep sleep, his consciousness was aware only
+of something dreadful. Outside the tent Mary ran to him: her teeth were
+chattering with terror: she could not speak. Clare crept from her tent.
+Both women instinctively drew close to their protector.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was it?&rdquo; Clare asked, tremblingly.</p>
+
+<p>A shriek answered her; a dreadful urgent cry of agony that made the
+whole night shudder. It came from a little way down the trail, from the
+edge of the woods perhaps, not more than a quarter of a mile away.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A human voice!&rdquo; gasped Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A woman&rsquo;s!&rdquo; muttered Stonor grimly.</p>
+
+<p>Again it shattered the stillness, this time more dread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>ful, for they
+heard words in their own tongue. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t hurt me! Don&rsquo;t hurt me!&rdquo; Then a
+horrible pause, and with added urgency: &ldquo;Help! Help!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By God! English words!&rdquo; cried Stonor, astounded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go to her! Go to her!&rdquo; cried Clare, urging him with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, Mary, falling to her knees, clung to him, fairly
+gibbering in the extremity of her terror.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was suspicious, yet every instinct of manliness drew him towards
+these cries. Under that pull it was impossible to think clearly. He
+shook Mary off, and started to run. He took three steps and pulled
+himself up short.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look at Imbrie,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Strange he hasn&rsquo;t wakened.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was true the prisoner still lay motionless, entirely covered with his
+blanket.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a trick!&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;There could be no English woman near here.
+It&rsquo;s a trick to draw me out of camp!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But none of the Kakisas could speak English,&rdquo; said Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; muttered Stonor, in an agony of indecision. &ldquo;My first
+duty is here. Look at Mary. She thinks it&rsquo;s a trick.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary was lying on the ground, muttering a Kakisa word over and over.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; Stonor harshly demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Spirits!&rdquo; she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor turned away, flinging his arms up. &ldquo;Good God! Ghosts again!&rdquo; he
+cried, in exasperation.</p>
+
+<p>The dreadful cries were raised again. &ldquo;Help! Help! He&rsquo;s killing me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t stand it!&rdquo; cried Clare. &ldquo;I must go myself!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stay where you are!&rdquo; commanded Stonor. &ldquo;It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> too strange a thing to
+happen so close to our camp if it was not staged for our benefit!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just the same, it was not easy for him to hold himself. When the cries
+were raised again a deep groan was forced from him:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I only had another man!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go! Mary and I will be all right!&rdquo; said Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo; go! Don&rsquo; go!&rdquo; wailed Mary from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor shouted into the darkness. &ldquo;Come this way! Help is here!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The cries were redoubled.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie suddenly awoke, and rolled clear of his blanket. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo;
+he cried, with an admirable assumption of surprise. &ldquo;A woman&rsquo;s voice! A
+white woman! Why don&rsquo;t you go to her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was a little too well done; Stonor felt partly reassured.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie appeared to be struggling desperately in his bonds. &ldquo;For God&rsquo;s
+sake, man!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;If you won&rsquo;t go, cut me loose! I can&rsquo;t stand it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am sure now,&rdquo; said Stonor, in a voice of relief. &ldquo;This was what he
+fixed up with Myengeen this morning. I ought to have been prepared for
+it. Mary, help me make up the fire. A blaze will help chase the
+horrors.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you coward!&rdquo; taunted Imbrie. &ldquo;If I had my hands free! This is the
+famous nerve of the police!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor could afford to laugh at this. His courage was tried.</p>
+
+<p>The voice came with a fresh note of despair. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s taking me away! He&rsquo;s
+taking me away! Oh, come! come!&rdquo; Sure enough the sounds began to recede.</p>
+
+<p>But the spell was broken now. They were only conscious of relief at the
+prospect of an end to the grim farce.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>&ldquo;Damn clever work here,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;She says the very things that
+ought to pull the hardest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where could they have got the English words?&rdquo; said Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Search me! It&rsquo;s another mystery to add to what&rsquo;s facing us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the flames were beginning to lick the twigs that Mary placed
+with trembling hands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If we make a big fire won&rsquo;t it reveal us to them?&rdquo; said Clare
+nervously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They won&rsquo;t shoot,&rdquo; said Stonor contemptuously. &ldquo;Stage business is more
+their line; conjure-tricks.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie, seeing that the game was up, had given over trying to taunt
+Stonor, and lay watching them with an unabashed grin. He seemed rather
+proud of his scheme, though it had failed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can I smoke?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary, fill his pipe, and stick it in his mouth,&rdquo; said Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>They heaped up a big fire, and at Stonor&rsquo;s initiative, sat around it
+clearly revealed in the glare. He knew his Indians. At first Clare
+trembled, thinking of the possible hostile eyes gazing at them from
+beyond the radius of light, but Stonor&rsquo;s coolness was infectious. He
+joked and laughed, and, toasting slices of bacon, handed them round.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We can eat all we want to-night,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Tole will be along with a
+fresh supply to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie lay about fifteen paces from the fire, near enough to make
+himself unpleasant, if not to hear what was said. &ldquo;Mighty brave man by
+the fire,&rdquo; he sneered.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor answered mildly. &ldquo;One more remark like that, my friend, and I&rsquo;ll
+have to retire you again from good society.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie held his tongue thereafter.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>Clare, wishing to show Stonor that she too could set an example of
+coolness, said: &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s sing something.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Stonor shook his head. &ldquo;That would look as if we were trying to keep
+our courage up,&rdquo; he said, smiling, &ldquo;and of course it is up. But let Mary
+tell us a story to pass the time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary, having reflected that it was her own people and not ghostly
+visitants that had made the hideous interruption in the night, had
+regained her outward stolidity. She was not in the humour for telling
+stories, though.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My mout&rsquo; too dry,&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go ahead,&rdquo; coaxed Stonor. &ldquo;You know your own folks better than I do.
+You know that if we sit here by the fire, eating, talking, and laughing
+like a pleasant company, it will put respect into their hearts. They&rsquo;ll
+have no appetite for further devilry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t tell stories,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Too late, too dark, too scare. Words
+won&rsquo;t come.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just tell us why the rabbits have a black spot on their backs. That&rsquo;s a
+short one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>After a little more urging Mary began in her stolid way:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One tam Old Man him travel in the bush. Hear ver&rsquo; queer singin&rsquo;. Never
+hear not&rsquo;ing like that before. Look all round see where it come. Wah! he
+see cottontail rabbits singing and making medicine. They mak&rsquo; fire. Got
+plenty hot ashes. They lie down in those ashes and sing, and another
+rabbit cover them up with ashes. They not stay there ver&rsquo; long for cause
+those ashes moch hot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Man say: &lsquo;Little brothers, that is wonderful how you lie down in
+those hot ashes without burning. Show me how to do it.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rabbits say: &lsquo;Come on, Old Man. We show you how. You got sing our song,
+only stay in ashes little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> while.&rsquo; So Old Man begin to sing, and he lie
+down, and they cover him with ashes. Him not burn at all.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He say: &lsquo;That is ver&rsquo; nice. You sure got ver&rsquo; strong medicine. Now I
+want do it myself. You lie down, and I cover you up.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So rabbits all lie down in ashes, and Old Man cover them up. Then he
+put the whole fire over them. Only one old rabbit get out. Old Man catch
+her and go put her back, but she say: &lsquo;Pity me, my children soon be
+born.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Man say: &lsquo;All right, I let you go, so there is plenty more rabbits
+bam-bye. But I will cook these nicely and have a feast.&rsquo; And he put more
+wood on the fire. When those rabbits cooked nice, he cut red willow bush
+and lay them on to cool. Grease soak into those branches; that is why
+when you hold red willow to the fire you see grease on the bark. You can
+see too, since that time, how rabbits got burnt place on their back.
+That is where the one that got away was singed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Man sit down waitin&rsquo; for rabbits to cool a little. His mouth is wet
+for to taste them. Coyote come along limpin&rsquo; ver&rsquo; bad. Say: &lsquo;Pity me,
+Old Man, you got plenty cooked rabbits, give me one.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Man say: &lsquo;Go along! You too lazy catch your dinner, I not help
+you!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Coyote say: &lsquo;My leg broke. I can&rsquo;t catch not&rsquo;ing. I starving. Just give
+me half a rabbit.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Man say: &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care if you die. I work hard to cook all these
+rabbits. I will not give away. But I tell you what we do. We run a race
+to that big hill way off there. If you beat me I give you a rabbit.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Coyote say: &lsquo;All right.&rsquo; So they start run. Old Man run ver&rsquo; fast.
+Coyote limp along close behind. Then coyote turn round and run back very
+fast. Him not lame at all. Tak&rsquo; Old Man long tam to get back.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> Jus&rsquo;
+before he get there coyote swallow las&rsquo; rabbit, and trot away over the
+prairie with his tail up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is the end.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laughed. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the kind of story I like. No cut and dried
+moral!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary never could be got to see anything funny in the stories she told.
+Just what her attitude was towards them the whites could not guess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give us another about Old Man,&rdquo; Stonor went on. &ldquo;A longer one. Tell how
+Old Man made medicine. A crackerjack!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare looked at him wonderingly. If he were aware of the weirdness of
+their situation no sign betrayed it. The crackling flames mounted
+straight in the air, the smoke made a pillar reaching into the darkness.
+Fifteen paces from Stonor lay his prisoner, staring unwinkingly at him
+with eyes that glittered with hatred; and from all around them in the
+darkness perhaps scores of their enemies were watching.</p>
+
+<p>Mary stolidly began again:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was long tam ago before the white man come. The people not have
+horses then. Kakisas hunt on the great prairie that touch the sky all
+around. Many buffalo had been killed. The camp was full of meat. Great
+sheets hung in the lodges and on the racks outside to smoke. Now the
+meat was all cut up and the women were working on the hides. Cure some
+for robes. Scrape hair from some for leather&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The story got no further. From across the little stream they heard a
+muffled thunder of hoofs in the grass.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor sprang up. &ldquo;My horses!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Stampeded, by God! The
+cowardly devils!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie laughed.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor snatched up his gun. &ldquo;Back from the fire!&rdquo; he cried to the women.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to shoot!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He splashed across the ford, and, climbing the bank,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> dropped on his
+knee in the grass. The horses swerved, and galloped off at a tangent.
+They were barely visible to eyes that had just left the fire. Stonor
+counted seven animals, and he had but six with Imbrie&rsquo;s. On the seventh
+there was the suggestion of a crouching figure. Stonor fired at the
+horse.</p>
+
+<p>The animal collapsed with a thud. Stonor ran to where he lay twitching
+in the grass. It was a strange horse to him. The rider had escaped. But
+he could not have got far. The temptation to follow was strong, but
+Stonor, remembering his prisoner and the women who depended on him,
+refused to be drawn. He returned to where Clare and Mary awaited him at
+a little distance from the fire. Meanwhile the horses galloped away out
+of hearing into the bush beyond the little meadow. Imbrie was still
+secure in his bonds. Stonor kept a close watch on him.</p>
+
+<p>They had not long to wait before dawn began to weave colour in the sky.
+Light revealed nothing living but themselves in the little valley, or
+around its rim. The horse Stonor had shot still lay where he had
+dropped. Stonor returned to him, taking Mary. The animal was dead, with
+a bullet behind its shoulder. It was a blue roan, an ugly brute with a
+chewed ear. It had borne a saddle, but its owner had succeeded in
+retrieving that under cover of darkness. The man&rsquo;s tracks were visible,
+leading off towards the side trail.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary, whose horse is that?&rdquo; Stonor asked.</p>
+
+<p>She shrugged and spread out her hands. As she had been living at Fort
+Enterprise for years, and saw her own people but seldom, he had no
+choice but to believe that she did not know. They returned to Clare.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said: &ldquo;I shall have to leave you for awhile. There&rsquo;s no help for
+it. I&rsquo;m expecting Tole Grampierre this morning, but I can&rsquo;t tell for
+sure how fast he will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> travel, and in the meantime the horses may be
+getting further away every minute. If you are afraid to stay, I suppose
+you can come with me&mdash;though I may have to tramp for miles.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare kept her chin up. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll stay here. If you have to go far I&rsquo;d only
+be a drag on you. I shan&rsquo;t be afraid.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The harassed policeman gave her a grateful glance. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll leave you my
+revolver. There&rsquo;s no use arming Mary, because I couldn&rsquo;t ask her to fire
+on her own people. I do not think there is the slightest danger of your
+being attacked. If the Indians, seeing me go, come around, pay no
+attention to them. Show no fear and you are safe. If they want Imbrie
+let them take him. I&rsquo;ll get him later. It only means a little delay. He
+cannot escape me up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must eat before you start,&rdquo; said Clare anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take cold food. Can&rsquo;t wait for hot bread.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As Stonor started off Imbrie cried mockingly: &ldquo;So long, Redbreast!&rdquo;
+Stonor doubted very much if he would find him on his return. But there
+was no help for it. One has to make the best of a bad situation.</p>
+
+<p>After traversing the little meadow the stampeded horses had taken to the
+trail in the direction of Fort Enterprise. Stonor took heart, hoping
+that Tole might meet them and drive them back. But, reliable as Tole
+was, of course he could not count on him to the hour; nor had he any
+assurance that the horses would stay in the trail. He kept on.</p>
+
+<p>The horses&rsquo; tracks made clear reading. For several miles Stonor followed
+through the bush at a dog-trot. Then he came to another little open
+glade and saw that they had stopped to feed. He gained on them here. A
+short distance further he suddenly came upon his bay in the trail, the
+horse that had carried him to Swan Lake and back. As he had expected,
+she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> hopelessly foundered, a pitiable sight. He regretfully put a
+bullet through her brain.</p>
+
+<p>Near here the remaining horses had swerved from the trail and turned
+northward, looking for water perhaps. Stonor pinned a note to a tree,
+briefly telling Tole what had happened, and bidding him hasten forward
+with all speed.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor followed the hoof-prints then through the trackless bush,
+painfully slow going over the stones and the fallen trunks, with many a
+pitfall concealed under the smooth moss. After an hour of this he
+finally came upon them all five standing dejectedly about in a narrow
+opening, as if ashamed of their escapade and perfectly willing to be
+caught.</p>
+
+<p>Mounting Miles Aroon, he drove the others before him. To avoid the risk
+of breaking their legs he had to let them make their own slow pace over
+the down timber, and it was a sore trial to his patience. He had already
+been gone two hours. When finally he struck the trail again he saw that
+his note to Tole was still where he had left it. He let it stay, on the
+chance of its bringing him on a little quicker. He put his horses to the
+trail at a smart pace. They all clattered through the bush, making
+dizzying turns around the tree-trunks.</p>
+
+<p>As he approached the little meadow by the Meander his heart rose slowly
+in his throat. He had been more anxious for their safety than he would
+let himself believe. As he came to the edge of the trees his eyes were
+ready to leap to the spot where he had left his charges. A shock awaited
+them. Of the three little tents there was but one remaining, and no sign
+of life around it. He furiously urged his horse to the place.</p>
+
+<p>Mary and Clare were gone with Imbrie. The camp site was trampled by
+scores of hoofs. The Indians had taken nothing, however, but the two
+little tents and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> the personal belongings of the women&mdash;an odd
+scrupulousness in the face of the greater offence. All the tracks made
+off across the meadow towards the side trail back to the Swan.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV
+<span class="subtitle">PURSUIT</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Stonor sat down on a grub-box, and, gripping his bursting head between
+his hands, tried to think. His throbbing blood urged him to gallop
+instantly in pursuit. They could not have more than two hours&rsquo; start of
+him, and Miles Aroon was better than anything they had in the way of
+<ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;horseflesh&rdquo;'>horse-flesh</ins>, fresh into the bargain. But a deeper
+instinct was telling him that a little slow thought in the beginning
+brings quicker results at the end.</p>
+
+<p>Even with only two hours&rsquo; start they might make the village before he
+overtook them, and Imbrie might get away on the lake. A stern chase with
+all the hazards of travel in the wilderness might continue for days;
+Stonor was running short of grub; he must provide for their coming back;
+above all it was necessary that he get word out of what had happened;
+Clare&rsquo;s safety must not depend alone on the one mortal life he had to
+give her. Hard as it was to bring himself to it, he determined to get in
+touch with Tole before starting after Imbrie and the Kakisas.</p>
+
+<p>To that end he mounted one of his poorer horses and galloped headlong
+back through the bush. After ten miles or so, in a little open meadow he
+came upon the handsome breed boy riding along without a care in the
+world, hand on hip and &ldquo;Stetson&rdquo; cocked askew, singing lustily of
+<span class="title">Gentille Alouette</span>. Never in his life had Stonor been so glad to see
+anybody. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> set, white face worked painfully; for a moment he could
+not speak, but only grip the boy&rsquo;s shoulder. Tole was scared half out of
+his wits to see his revered idol so much affected.</p>
+
+<p>All the way along Stonor had been thinking what he would do. It would
+not be sufficient to send a message by Tole; he must write to John
+Gaviller and to Lambert at the Crossing; one letter would do for both;
+the phrases were all ready to his pencil. Briefly explaining the
+situation to Tole, he sat down to his note-book. Two pages held it all;
+Stonor would have been surprised had he been told that it was a model of
+conciseness.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>&ldquo;<span class="saluname">John Gaviller</span> and Sergeant <span class="saluname">Lambert</span>, R.N.W.M.P.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;While returning with my prisoner Ernest Imbrie, suspected of
+murder, at a point on the Horse Track six miles from Swan River, a
+band of Indians from Swan Lake drove off my horses, and while I was
+away looking for them, rescued my prisoner, and also carried off
+the two women in my party. Am returning to Swan Lake now with four
+horses. Suppose that Imbrie reaching there will take to the lake
+and the upper Swan, as that provides his only means of getting out
+of the country this way. Suggest that Mr. Gaviller get this through
+to Lambert regardless of expense. Suggest that Lambert as soon as
+he gets it might ride overland from the Crossing to the nearest
+point on the Swan. If he takes one of his folding boats, and takes
+a man to ride the horses back, he could come down the Swan. I will
+be coming up, and we ought to pinch Imbrie between the two of us.
+The situation is a serious one, as Imbrie has the whole tribe of
+Kakisas under his thumb. He will stop at nothing now; may be
+insane. The position of the women is a frightful one.</p>
+
+<p class="quotsig">&ldquo;<span class="saluname">Martin Stonor.</span>&rdquo;</p></blockquote>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>Stonor took Tole&rsquo;s pack-horse with its load of grub, and the breed tied
+his bed and rations for three days behind his saddle. Stonor gripped his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So long, kid! Ride like hell. It&rsquo;s the most you can do for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Eight hours later, Stonor, haggard with anxiety and fatigue, and driving
+his spent horses before him, rode among the tepees of the village beside
+Swan Lake. That single day had aged him ten years. His second coming was
+received with a significant lack of surprise. The Indians were
+ostentatiously engaged at their customary occupations: mending boats and
+other gear, cleaning guns, etc. Stonor doubted if such a picture of
+universal industry had ever been offered there. Dismounting, he called
+peremptorily for Myengeen.</p>
+
+<p>The head man came to him with a certain air of boldness, that slowly
+withered, however, under the fire that leaped up in the white man&rsquo;s
+weary blue eyes. Under his savage inscrutability the signs of fidgets
+became perceptible. Perhaps he had not expected the trooper to brave him
+<ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;singlehanded&rdquo;'>single-handed</ins>, but had hoped for more time to
+obliterate tracks, and let matters quiet down. Many a dark breast within
+hearing quailed at the sound of the policeman&rsquo;s ringing voice, though
+his words were not understood. The one determined man struck more terror
+than a troop.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Myengeen, you and your people have defied the law! Swift and terrible
+punishment awaits you. Don&rsquo;t think you can escape it. You have carried
+off a white woman. Such a thing was never known. If a single hair of her
+head is harmed, God help you! Where is she?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen&rsquo;s reply was a pantomime of general denial.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor marched him back of the tepees where the Kakisas&rsquo; horses were
+feeding on the flat. He silently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> pointed to their hanging heads and
+sweaty flanks. Many of the beasts were still too weary to feed: one or
+two were lying down done for. Stonor pointed out certain peculiarities
+in their feet, and indicated that he had been following those tracks.
+This mute testimony impressed Myengeen more than words; his eyes bolted;
+he took refuge in making believe not to understand.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor&rsquo;s inability to command them in their own tongue made him feel
+maddeningly impotent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where is the woman who speaks English?&rdquo; he cried, pointing to his own
+tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Myengeen merely shrugged.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor then ordered all the people into their tepees, and such is the
+power of a single resolute voice that they meekly obeyed. Proceeding
+from tepee to tepee he called out likely-looking individuals to be
+questioned out of sight of the others. For a long time it was without
+result; men and women alike, having taken their cue from Myengeen,
+feigned not to understand. Such children as he tried to question were
+scared almost into insensibility. Stonor began to feel as if he were
+butting his head against a stone wall.</p>
+
+<p>At last from a maiden he received a hint that was sufficient. She was a
+comely girl with a limpid brown eye. Either she had a soul above the
+Kakisas or else the bright-haired trooper touched her fancy. At any
+rate, when he looked in the tepee, where she sat demurely beyond her
+male relatives, she gave him a shy glance that did not lack humanity.
+Calling her outside, he put the invariable question to her, accompanied
+with appropriate signs: where was the white woman?</p>
+
+<p>She merely glanced towards the mouth of the creek where the canoes lay,
+then looked up the lake. It was sufficient. Stonor gave her a grateful
+glance and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> let her go. He never knew her name. That the Kakisas might
+not suspect her of having betrayed them, he continued his questioning
+for awhile. Last of all he re-interrogated Myengeen. He did not care if
+suspicion fell on him.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor coolly picked out the best-looking canoe in the creek, and loaded
+aboard what he required of his outfit. Myengeen and his men sullenly
+looked on. The trooper, seeing that a fair breeze was blowing up the
+lake, cut two poplar poles, and with a blanket quickly rigged mast and
+sail. When he was ready to start he delivered the rest of his outfit to
+Myengeen, and left his horses in his care.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is government property,&rdquo; he said sternly. &ldquo;If anything is lost
+full payment will be collected.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He sailed down the creek followed by the wondering exclamations of the
+Kakisas. Sailing was an unknown art to them, and in their amazement at
+the sight, like the children they were, they completely forgot the
+grimness of the situation. Stonor thought: &ldquo;How can you make such a
+scatter-brained lot realize what they&rsquo;re doing!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had supposed that Imbrie would take to the lake. On arriving at
+the brow of the last ridge his first thought had been to search its
+expanse, but he had seen nothing. Since then various indications
+suggested that they had between four and five hours&rsquo; start of him. He
+had been delayed on the trail by his pack-horses. The speed he was
+making under sail was not much better than he could have paddled, but it
+enabled him to take things easy for a while.</p>
+
+<p>Swan Lake is about thirty miles long. Fully ten miles of it was visible
+from the start. It is shaped roughly like three uneven links of a chain,
+and in width it varies from half a mile to perhaps five miles. It seems
+vaster than it is on account of its low shores<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> which stretch back, flat
+and reedy, for miles. Here dwelt the great flocks of wild geese or
+&ldquo;wavies&rdquo; that gave both lake and river their names.</p>
+
+<p>As he got out into the lake the wind gradually strengthened behind him,
+and his canoe was blown hither and yon like an inflated skin on the
+water. She had no keel, she took no grip of the water, and much of the
+goodly aid of the wind was vainly measured against the strength of
+Stonor&rsquo;s arms as he laboured to keep her before it. When he did get the
+wind full in his top-heavy sail it blew him almost bodily under. Stonor
+welcomed the struggle. He was now making much better time than he could
+have hoped for by his paddle. He grimly carried on.</p>
+
+<p>In order to accommodate the two women and their necessary outfit, Stonor
+supposed that Imbrie must have taken one of the dug-outs. He did not
+believe that any of the Kakisas had accompanied the fugitive. The
+prospect of a long journey would appal them. And Stonor was pretty sure
+that Mary was not over-working herself at the paddle, so that it was not
+too much to hope that he was catching up on them at this rate. Thinking
+of their outfit, Stonor wondered how Imbrie would feed Clare; the
+ordinary fare of the Kakisas would be a cruel hardship on her. Such are
+the things one worries about in the face of much more dreadful dangers.</p>
+
+<p>It had been nearly six o&rsquo;clock before Stonor left Myengeen&rsquo;s village,
+and the sun went down while he was still far from the head of the lake.
+He surveyed the flat shores somewhat anxiously. Nowhere, as far as he
+could see, was there any promising landing-place. In the end he decided
+to sail on through the night. As darkness gathered he took his bearings
+from the stars. With the going-down of the sun the wind moderated, but
+it still held fair and strong enough to give him good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> steerage-way.
+After an hour or two the shores began to close around him. He could not
+find the outlet of the river in the dark, so he drove into the reeds,
+and, taking down his sail, supped on cold bread and lake-water and lay
+down in his canoe.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning he found the river without difficulty. It was a sluggish
+stream here, winding interminably between low cut banks, edged with
+dangling grass-roots on the one side and mud-flats on the other. From
+the canoe he could see nothing above the banks. Landing to take a
+survey, Stonor beheld a vast treeless bottom, covered with rank grass,
+and stretching to low piny ridges several miles back on either hand. No
+tell-tale thread of smoke on the still air betrayed the camp of the man
+he was seeking.</p>
+
+<p>He resumed his way. Of his whole journey this part was the most
+difficult trial to his patience. There was just current enough to mock
+at his efforts with the paddle. He seemed scarcely to crawl. It was
+maddening after his brisk progress up the lake. Moreover, each bend was
+so much like the last that he had no sense of getting on, and the
+invariable banks hemmed in his sight. He felt like a man condemned to a
+treadmill.</p>
+
+<p>He had been about two hours on the river when he saw a little object
+floating towards him on the current that instantly caught his eye
+because it had the look of something fashioned. He paddled to it with a
+beating heart. It proved to be a tiny raft contrived out of several
+lengths of stout stick, tied together with strips of rag. On the little
+platform, out of reach of the water, was tied with another strip a roll
+of the white outer bark of the birch. Stonor untied it and spread it out
+on his knee with a trembling hand. It was a letter printed in crooked
+characters with a point charred in the fire.</p>
+
+<div class="image"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
+<img src="images/hwnote01.png" width="600" height="143" alt="WE WELL. HIM NOT HURT CLARE ENY. HIM SCAR OF CRAZEE CLARE SLEEP BY ME. HIM GOIN CROST [Drawing of mountains]. FROM MARY" title="Handwritten note">
+</div>
+
+<p>A warm stream forced its way into the trooper&rsquo;s frozen breast, and the
+terrible strained look in his eyes relaxed. For a moment he covered his
+eyes with his arm, though there was none to see. His most dreadful and
+unacknowledged fear was for the moment relieved. Gratitude filled him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good old Mary!&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;She went to all that trouble just on the
+chance of easing my mind. By God! if we come through this all right I&rsquo;ll
+do something for her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Him scar of crazee,&rdquo; puzzled him for a while, until it occurred to him
+that Mary wished to convey that Imbrie let Clare alone because he
+believed that her loss of memory was akin to insanity. This was where
+the red strain in him told. All Indians have a superstitious awe of the
+insane. The sign at the end of the letter was for mountains, of course.
+The word, no doubt, was beyond Mary&rsquo;s spelling. What care and
+circumspection must have gone to the writing and the launching of the
+note! It must all have been done while Imbrie slept.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor applied himself to his paddle again with a better heart. After
+two hours more he came to their camping-place of the night before. It
+was a spot designed by Nature for a camp, with a little beach of clean
+sand below, and a grove of willow and birch above. Stonor landed to see
+what tell-tale signs they had left behind them.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that they were in a dug-out: it had left its furrow in the sand
+where it was pulled up. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> saw the print of Clare&rsquo;s little common-sense
+boot in the sand, and the sight almost unmanned him; Mary&rsquo;s track was
+there too, that he knew well, and Imbrie&rsquo;s; and to his astonishment
+there was a fourth track unknown to him. It was that of a small man or a
+large woman. Could Imbrie have persuaded one of the Kakisas to accompany
+him? This was all he saw. He judged from the signs that they had about
+five hours&rsquo; start of him.</p>
+
+<p>From this point the character of the country began to change. The
+river-banks became higher and wooded; there were outcroppings of rock
+and small rapids. Stonor saw from the tracks alongshore that where the
+current was swift they had towed the dug-out up-stream, but he had to
+stick to his paddle. Though he put forth his best efforts all day he
+scarcely gained on them, for darkness came upon him soon after he had
+passed the place where they spelled in mid-afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>On the next day in mid-morning he was brought to stand by a fork in the
+river. There was nothing to tell him which branch to choose, for the
+current was easy here and the trackers had re-embarked. Both branches
+were of about equal size: one came from the south-east, one from due
+east; either might reach to the mountains if it was long enough. Stonor
+had pondered on the map of that country, but on it the Swan River was
+only indicated as yet by a dotted line. All that was known of the stream
+by report was that it rose in the Rocky Mountains somewhere to the north
+of Fort Cheever, and, flowing in a north-westerly direction, roughly
+parallel with the Spirit, finally emptied into Great Buffalo Lake.
+Stonor remembered no forks on the map.</p>
+
+<p>He was about to choose at random, when he was struck by a difference in
+the colour of the water of the two branches. The right-hand fork was a
+clear brown,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> the other greenish with a milky tinge. Now brown water, as
+everybody knows, comes from swamps or muskegs, while green water is the
+product of melting snow and ice. Stonor took the left-hand branch.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly afterwards he was rewarded by a sight of the spot where they had
+made their first spell of the day. Landing, he found the ashes of their
+fire still warm; they could not have been gone more than an hour. This
+was an unexpected gain; some accident of travel must have delayed them.
+Embarking, he bent to his paddle with a renewed hope. Surely by going
+without a meal himself he ought to come on them before they finished
+their second spell.</p>
+
+<p>But the river was only half of its former volume now, and the rapids
+were more brawling, and more tedious to ascend. However, he consoled
+himself with the thought that if they held him back they would delay the
+dug-out no less. The river was very lovely on these upper reaches; in
+his anxiety to get on he scarcely marked that at the moment, but
+afterwards he remembered its park-like shores, its forget-me-nots and
+raspberry-blossoms, and the dappled sunlight falling through the
+aspen-foliage. It was no different from the rivers of his boyhood in a
+sheltered land, with swimming-holes at the foot of the little rapids:
+only the fenced fields and the quiet cattle were lacking above the
+banks, and church-spires in the distant vistas.</p>
+
+<p>Within an hour Stonor himself became the victim of one of the ordinary
+hazards of river-travel. In a rapid one of his paddles broke in half;
+the current carried him broadside on a rock, and a great piece of bark
+was torn from the side of his frail craft. Landing, he surveyed the
+damage, grinding his teeth with angry disappointment. It meant the loss
+of all he had so hardly gained on the dug-out.</p>
+
+<p>To find a suitable piece of bark, and spruce-gum to cement it with,
+required a considerable search in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> bush. It then had to be sewed on
+with needle and thread, the edges gummed, and the gum given time to dry
+partly, in the heat of the fire. The afternoon was well advanced before
+he got afloat again, and darkness compelled him to camp in the spot
+where they had made their second, that is to say, the mid-afternoon,
+spell.</p>
+
+<p>The next two days, his third and fourth in the river, were without
+especial incident. The river maintained its sylvan character, though the
+bordering hills or bench were gradually growing higher and bolder.
+Stonor, by putting every ounce that was in him into his paddle, slowly
+gained again on the dug-out. He knew now that Imbrie, irrespective of
+Mary, had a second paddle to help him. It gave the dug-out an advantage,
+especially in swift water, that more than neutralized its extra weight.</p>
+
+<p>By evening of the fourth day all signs indicated that he was drawing
+close to his quarry again. He kept on until forced to stop by complete
+darkness. On this night the sky was heavily overcast, and it was as dark
+as a winter&rsquo;s night. He camped where he happened to be; it was a poor
+spot, no more than a stony slope among willows. He had done all his
+necessary cooking during the day, so there was no need to wait for his
+supper.</p>
+
+<p>The mosquitoes were troublesome, and he put up his tent, hastily
+slinging it between two trees, and weighing down the sides and the back
+with a few stones. To his tent he afterwards ascribed the preservation
+of his life. It was the simplest form of tent, known as a &ldquo;lean-to,&rdquo; or,
+as one might say, merely half a tent sliced along the ridge-pole, with a
+roof sloping to the ground at the back, and the entire front open to the
+fire except for a mosquito-bar.</p>
+
+<p>His bed was hard, but he was too weary to care. He lay down in his
+blanket, but not to achieve for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>getfulness immediately; strong
+discipline was still required to calm his hot impatience. How could he
+sleep, not knowing perhaps but that one more mile might bring him to his
+goal? Indeed, Imbrie&rsquo;s camp might be around the next bend. But he could
+not risk his frail canoe in the shallow river after dark.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was on the borderland of sleep when he was suddenly roused to
+complete wakefulness by a little sound from behind his tent. A woodsman
+soon learns to know all the normal sounds of night, and this was
+something different, an infinitely stealthy sound, as of a body dragging
+itself an inch at a time, with long waits between. It seemed to be
+slowly making its way around his tent towards the open front.</p>
+
+<p>Now Stonor knew that there was no animal in his country that stalks
+human prey, and he instantly thought of his two-legged enemy. Quick and
+noiselessly as a cat he slipped out of his blankets, and rolling his
+dunnage-bag in his place drew the blanket over it. In the faint light
+reflected from the embers outside it might be supposed that he still lay
+there. He then cautiously moved the stones aside, and slipped out under
+the wall of his tent on the side opposite to that whence the creeping
+sounds now came.</p>
+
+<p>On hands and knees he crawled softly around the back of his tent,
+determined to stalk the stalker. He felt each inch of the way in
+advance, to make sure there was nothing that would break or turn under
+his weight. He could hear no sounds from the other side now. Rounding
+the back of his tent, at the corner he lay flat and stuck his head
+around. At first he could see nothing. The tall trees on the further
+shore cut off all but the faintest gleam of light from the river. A
+little forward and to the left of his tent there was a thick clump of
+willow, making a black shadow at its foot that might have concealed
+anything. Stonor watched, breathing with open mouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> to avoid betraying
+himself. Little by little he made out a shadowy form at the foot of the
+willows, a shape merely a degree blacker than its background. He could
+be sure of nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Then his heart seemed to miss a beat, for against the wan surface of the
+river he saw an arm raised and a gun point&mdash;presumably at the dummy he
+had left under the tent. Oddly enough his shock of horror was not
+primarily that one should seek to kill him, Stonor; he was first of all
+appalled at the outrage offered to the coat he wore.</p>
+
+<p>The gun spoke and flame leaped from the barrel. Stonor, gathering
+himself up, sprang forward on the assassin. At the first touch he
+recognized with a great shock of surprise that it was a woman he had to
+deal with. Her shoulders were round and soft under his hands; the grunt
+she uttered as he bore her back was feminine. He wrenched the gun from
+her hands and cast it to one side.</p>
+
+<p>When she caught her breath she fought like a mad cat, with every lithe
+muscle of her body and with teeth and claws too. She was strong; strong
+and quick as a steel spring. More than once she escaped him. Once she
+got half-way up the bank; but here he bore her down on her face and
+locked her arms behind her in a grip she was powerless to break.</p>
+
+<p>Jerking her to her feet&mdash;one is not too gentle even with a woman who has
+just tried to murder one&mdash;he forced her before him back to his tent.
+Here, holding her with one arm while she swayed and wrenched in her
+efforts to free herself, he contrived to draw his knife, and to cut off
+one of the stay-ropes of his tent. With this he bound her wrists
+together behind her back, and passed the end round a stout trunk of
+willow. The instant he stood back she flung herself forward on the rope,
+but the jerk on her arms must have nearly dislocated them. It brought a
+shriek of pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> from her. She came to a standstill, sobbing for breath.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor collected dead twigs, and blew on the embers. In a minute or two
+he had a bright blaze, and turned, full of curiosity to see what he had
+got. He saw a breed woman of forty years or more, still, for a wonder,
+uncommonly handsome and well-formed. The pure hatred that distorted her
+features could not conceal her good looks. She had the fine straight
+features of her white forebears, and her dusky cheeks flamed with
+colour. She bore herself with a proud, savage grace.</p>
+
+<p>More than the woman herself, her attire excited Stonor&rsquo;s wonder. It was
+a white woman&rsquo;s get-up. Her dress, though of plain black cotton, was cut
+with a certain regard to the prevailing style. She wore corsets&mdash;strange
+phenomenon! Stonor had already discovered it before he got a look at
+her. Her hair had been done on top of her head in a white woman&rsquo;s
+fashion, though it was pretty well down now. Strangest of all, she wore
+gold jewellery; rings on her fingers and drops in her ears; a showy gold
+locket hanging from a chain around her neck. On the whole a surprising
+apparition to find on the banks of the unexplored river.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, studying her, reflected that this was no doubt the woman he had
+seen with Imbrie at Carcajou Point two months before. The Indians had
+referred to her derisively as his &ldquo;old woman.&rdquo; But it was strange he had
+heard nothing of her from the Kakisas. She must have been concealed in
+the very tepee from which Imbrie had issued on the occasion of Stonor&rsquo;s
+first visit to the village at Swan Lake. The Indians down the river had
+never mentioned her. He was sure she could not have lived with Imbrie
+down there. Where, then, had he picked her up? Where had she been while
+Imbrie was down there? How had she got into the country anyway? The more
+he thought of it the more puzzling it was. Certainly she had come from
+far; Stonor was well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> assured he would have heard of so striking a
+personage as this anywhere within his own bailiwick.</p>
+
+<p>Another thought suddenly occurred to him. This of course would be the
+woman who had tried to decoy him out of his camp with her cries for help
+in English. At least she explained that bit of the all-enveloping
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, here&rsquo;s a pretty how-de-do!&rdquo; said Stonor with grim humour. &ldquo;Who
+are you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She merely favoured him with a glance of inexpressible scorn.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know you talk English,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;good English too. So there&rsquo;s no use
+trying to bluff me that you don&rsquo;t understand. What is your name, to
+begin with?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Still no answer but the curling lip.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the idea of shooting at a policeman? Is it worth hanging for?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She gave no sign.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that it only gratified her to balk his curiosity, so he turned
+away with a shrug. &ldquo;If you won&rsquo;t talk, that&rsquo;s your affair.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He had thrown only light stuff on the fire, and he let it burn itself
+out, having no mind to make of himself a shining mark for a bullet from
+another quarter. He lit his pipe and sat debating what to do&mdash;or rather
+struggling with his desire to set off instantly in search of Imbrie&rsquo;s
+camp. Knowing it must be near, it was hard to be still. Yet better sense
+told him he would be at a fatal disadvantage in the dark, particularly
+as Imbrie must now be on the alert. There was no help for it. He must
+wait for daylight.</p>
+
+<p>He knew that above all he required sleep to fit him for his work next
+day, and he determined to impose sleep on himself if will-power could do
+it. As he rose to return to his tent a sullen voice from the direction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
+of the willow-bushes spoke up in English as good as his own:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The mosquitoes are biting me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; said Stonor, with a grim laugh. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve found your tongue, eh?
+Mosquitoes! That&rsquo;s not a patch on what you intended for me, my girl! But
+if you want to be friends, all right. First give an account of
+yourself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She relapsed into silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say, tell me who you are and where you came from.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She said, with exactly the manner of a wilful child: &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t make me
+talk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, all right! But I can let the mosquitoes bite you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless he untied her from the willows and let her crawl under his
+mosquito-bar. Here he tied ankles as well as wrists, beyond any
+possibility of escape. It was not pure philanthropy on his part, for he
+reflected that when she failed to return, Imbrie might come in search of
+her, and take a shot inside his tent just on a chance. For himself he
+took his blanket under the darkest shadow of the willows and covered
+himself entirely with it excepting a hole to breathe through.</p>
+
+<p>He did succeed in sleeping, and when he awoke the sky was clear and the
+stars paling. Before crawling out of his hiding-place he took a careful
+survey from between the branches. Nothing stirred outside. Under his
+tent his prisoner was sleeping as calmly as a child. Apparently a
+frustrated murder more or less was nothing to disturb her peace of mind.
+Stonor thought grimly&mdash;for perhaps the hundredth time in dealing with
+the red race: &ldquo;What a rum lot they are!&rdquo; He ate some bread that he had
+left, and began to pack up.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>The woman awoke as he took down the tent over her head, and watched his
+preparations in a sullen silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t you got a tongue this morning?&rdquo; asked Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>She merely glowered at him.</p>
+
+<p>However, by and by, when she saw everything being packed in the canoe,
+she suddenly found her tongue. &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you going to feed me?&rdquo; she
+demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No time now,&rdquo; he answered teasingly.</p>
+
+<p>Her face turned dark with rage. &ldquo;You hangman!&rdquo; she muttered savagely.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve got a hangman&rsquo;s face all right! Anybody would know what you are
+without your livery!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laughed. &ldquo;Dear! Dear! We are in a pleasant humour this morning!
+You believe in the golden rule, don&rsquo;t you?&mdash;for others!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When he was ready to start he regarded her grimly. He saw no recourse
+but to take her with him, thus quadrupling his difficulties. He did
+consider leaving her behind on the chance of returning later, but he
+could not tell what hazards the day might have for him. He might be
+prevented from returning, and murderess though she were, she was human,
+and he could not bring himself to leave her helpless in the bush. She
+stolidly watched the struggle going on in him.</p>
+
+<p>He gave in to his humanitarian instincts with a sigh. As a final
+precaution he gagged her securely with a handkerchief. He wished to take
+no chances of her raising an alarm as they approached Imbrie&rsquo;s camp. He
+then picked her up and laid her in the canoe. She rolled the light craft
+from side to side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you overturn us you&rsquo;ll drown like a stone,&rdquo; said Stonor, grinning.
+&ldquo;That would help solve my difficulties.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>After that she lay still, her eyes blazing.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor proceeded. This part of the river was narrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> and fairly deep,
+and the current ran steadily and slow. Through breaks in the ranks of
+the trees he caught sight from time to time of the bench on either hand,
+which now rose in high bold hills. From this he guessed that he had got
+back to the true prairie country again. As is always the case in that
+country, the slope to the north of the river was grassy, while the
+southerly slope was heavily wooded to the top.</p>
+
+<p>He peered around each bend with a fast-beating heart, but Imbrie&rsquo;s camp
+proved to be not so near as he had expected. He put a mile behind him,
+and another mile, and there was still no sign of it. Evidently the woman
+had not made her way through the bush, as he had supposed, but had been
+dropped off to wait for him. After giving him his quietus she had no
+doubt intended to take his canoe and join her party. Well, it was
+another lovely morning, and Stonor was thankful her plan had miscarried.</p>
+
+<p>The river took a twist to the southward. The sun rose and shot his beams
+horizontally through the tree-trunks, lighting up the underbrush with a
+strange golden splendour. It was lovely and slightly unreal, like
+stage-lighting. The surface of the river itself seemed to be dusted with
+light. Far overhead against the blue, so tender and so far away at this
+latitude, eagles circled and joyously screamed, each one as if he had an
+intermittent alarm in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>In the bow the woman lay glaring at him venomously. Stonor could not
+help but think: &ldquo;What a gorgeous old world to be fouled with murder and
+hatred!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At last, as he crept around an overhanging clump of willows, he saw what
+he was in search of, and his heart gave a great leap. Arresting his
+paddle, he clung to the branches and peered through, debating what to
+do. They were still far off and he had not been perceived. With
+straining eyes he watched the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> three tiny figures that meant so much to
+him. Unfortunately there was no chance of taking Imbrie by surprise, for
+he had had the wit to choose a camping-place that commanded a view
+down-stream for half a mile. Stonor considered landing, and attempting
+to take them from the rear, but even as he looked he saw Imbrie loading
+the dug-out. They would be gone long before he could make his way round
+through the bush. There was nothing to do but make a dash for it.</p>
+
+<p>They saw him as soon as he rounded the bend. There was a strange
+dramatic quality in the little beings running this way and that on the
+beach. Stonor, straining every nerve to reach them, was nevertheless
+obliged to be the witness of a drama in which he was powerless to
+intervene. He saw Imbrie throw what remained of his baggage into the
+dug-out. He saw the two petticoated figures start running up the beach
+towards him, Stonor. Imbrie started after them. The larger of the two
+figures dropped back and grappled with the man, evidently to give the
+other a chance to escape. But Imbrie succeeded in flinging her off, and,
+after a short chase, seized the other woman. Stonor could make out the
+little green Norfolk suit now.</p>
+
+<p>Mary snatched up a billet of wood, and as the man came staggering back
+with his burden, she attacked him. He backed towards the dug-out,
+holding Clare&rsquo;s body in front of him as a shield. But under Mary&rsquo;s
+attacks he was finally compelled to drop Clare. She must have fainted,
+for she lay without moving. Imbrie closed with Mary, and there was a
+brief violent struggle. He succeeded in flinging her off again. He
+reached the dug-out. Mary attacked him again. Snatching up his gun, he
+fired at her point-blank. She crumpled up on the stones.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie picked up Clare and flung her in the dug-out. He pushed off. All
+this had been enacted in not much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> more time than it takes to read of
+it. Stonor was now within a furlong, but still helpless, for he dared
+not fire at Imbrie for fear of hitting Clare. The dug-out escaped out of
+sight round a bend.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV
+<span class="subtitle">UPS AND DOWNS</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Stonor, raging in his helplessness, was nevertheless obliged to stop. He
+found Mary conscious, biting her lips until they bled to keep from
+groaning. Her face was ashy. Yet she insisted on sitting up to prove to
+him that she was not badly hurt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go on! Go on!&rdquo; she was muttering as he reached her. &ldquo;I all right. Don&rsquo;
+stop! Go after him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where are you hurt?&rdquo; Stonor demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just my leg. No bone broke. It is not&rsquo;ing. Go after him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t leave you like this!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give me your little medicine-bag. I dress it all right myself. Go
+quick!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be quiet! Let me think!&rdquo; cried the distracted trooper. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t leave
+you here helpless. I can&rsquo;t tell when I&rsquo;ll be back. You must have food, a
+blanket, gun and ammunition.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, he set about getting out what she needed; first of all the
+little medicine chest that he never travelled without. He laid aside the
+breed woman&rsquo;s gun and shells for her, and one of his two blankets. The
+delay was maddening. With every second he pictured Imbrie drawing
+further and further away, Clare without a protector now. Though the
+dug-out was heavier than the bark-canoe, he would be handicapped by the
+devilish breed woman, who would be sure to hinder him by every means
+within her power. Yet he still closed his ears to Mary&rsquo;s urgings to be
+off. He built up Im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>brie&rsquo;s fire and put on water to heat for her. He
+carried her near the fire, where she could help herself.</p>
+
+<p>As he worked a new plan came to him, a way out of part of his
+difficulties. &ldquo;Mary,&rdquo; he said suddenly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to leave the canoe
+with you, too, and this woman to take care of for me. I&rsquo;ll take to the
+bench. I can cut him off above.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; she groaned. &ldquo;Leave the woman and take the canoe. You can come
+back when you get her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But his mind was made up. A new hope lightened his despair. &ldquo;No! He
+might get me. Then you&rsquo;d starve to death. I don&rsquo;t mean to let him get
+me, but I can&rsquo;t take the chance. I&rsquo;ll travel faster light. Even if I
+don&rsquo;t get him to-day, he shan&rsquo;t shake me off. The river is bound to get
+more difficult as he goes up. And it&rsquo;s prairie-land above.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He hastened to get together his pack: gun and ammunition, knife,
+hatchet, matches, and a little cooking-pot; a small store of flour,
+salt, baking-powder and smoked meat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary, as soon as you feel able to travel, you are to start down-stream
+in the canoe with the woman. It is up to you to take her out, and
+deliver her to the authorities. The charge is attempted murder. You are
+to tell John Gaviller everything that has happened, and let him act
+accordingly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All this was said in low tones to keep it from reaching the breed
+woman&rsquo;s ears. Stonor now dropped to his knees and put his lips to Mary&rsquo;s
+ear. &ldquo;Tell Gaviller we know for sure that Imbrie is trying to escape
+over the mountains by way of the head-waters of the Swan, and to make
+sure that he is intercepted there if he slips through our fingers
+below.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I onerstan&rsquo;,&rdquo; said Mary.</p>
+
+<p>He gave her a pull from his flask, and she was able to sit up and attend
+to the dressing of her own wound.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>In ten minutes Stonor was ready to start. He put on a cheery air for
+Mary&rsquo;s benefit. Truly the Indian woman had a task before her that might
+have appalled the stoutest-hearted man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-bye, Mary!&rdquo; he said, gripping her hand. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a good pardner. I
+shan&rsquo;t forget it. Keep up a good heart. Remember you&rsquo;re a policeman now.
+Going down you&rsquo;re only about three days&rsquo; journey from Myengeen&rsquo;s
+village. And you&rsquo;ll have company&mdash;though I can&rsquo;t recommend it much. Keep
+the gun in your own hands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary shrugged, with her customary stoicism. &ldquo;I make her work for me.&rdquo;
+She added simply: &ldquo;Good-bye, Stonor. Bring her back safe.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t come without her,&rdquo; he said, and with a wave of his hand struck
+into the bush.</p>
+
+<p>He laid a course at right angles to the river. The floor of this part of
+the valley was covered with a forest which had never known axe nor fire,
+and the going was difficult and slow over the down timber, some
+freshly-fallen, making well-nigh impassable barricades erected on the
+stumps of its broken branches, some which crumbled to powder at a touch.
+There was no undergrowth except a few lean shrubs that stretched great,
+pale leaves to catch the attenuated rays that filtered down. It was as
+cool and still as a room with a lofty ceiling. High overhead the leaves
+sparkled in the sun.</p>
+
+<p>It was about half a mile to the foot of the bench, that is to say, to
+the side of the gigantic trough that carried the river through the
+prairie country, though it required an amount of exertion that would
+have carried one over ten times that distance of road. As soon as Stonor
+began to climb he left the forest behind him; first it diminished into
+scattered trees and scrub and then ceased altogether in clean, short
+grass, already curing under the summer sun. Presently Stonor was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> able
+to look clear over the tops of the trees; it was like rising from a
+mine.</p>
+
+<p>The slope was not regular, but pushed up everywhere in fantastic knolls
+and terraces. He directed his course as he climbed for a bold projecting
+point from which he hoped to obtain a prospect up the valley. Reaching
+it at last, he gave himself a breathing-space. He saw, as he hoped, that
+the valley, which here ran due north and south, returned to its normal
+course from the westward a few miles above. Thus, by making a bee-line
+across the prairie, he could cut off a great bend in the watercourse,
+not to speak of the lesser windings of the river in its valley. He
+prayed that Imbrie might have many a rapid to buck that day.</p>
+
+<p>On top of the bench the prairie rolled to the horizon with nothing to
+break the expanse of grass but patches of scrub. Stonor&rsquo;s heart,
+burdened as it was, lifted up at the sight. &ldquo;After all, there&rsquo;s nothing
+like the old bald-headed to satisfy a man&rsquo;s soul,&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;If I
+only had Miles Aroon under me now!&rdquo; Taking his bearings, he set off
+through the grass at the rolling walk he had learned from the Indians.</p>
+
+<p>Of that long day there is little to report. The endless slopes of grass
+presented no distinguishing features; he was alone with the west wind&rsquo;s
+noble clouds. He came up on the wind on a brown bear with cream-coloured
+snout staying his stomach with the bark of poplar shoots until the
+berries should be ripe, and sent him doubling himself up with a shout.
+Time was too precious to allow of more than one spell. This he took
+beside a stream of clear water at the bottom of a vast coul&eacute;e that lay
+athwart his path. While his biscuits were baking he bagged a couple of
+prairie-chickens. One he ate, and one he carried along with him, &ldquo;for
+Clare&rsquo;s supper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At about four o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon, that is to say, the time of the
+second spell, he struck the edge of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> bench again, and once more the
+valley was spread below him. He searched it eagerly. The forest covered
+it like a dark mat, and the surface of the river was only visible in
+spots here and there. He found what he was looking for, and his heart
+raised a little song; a thin thread of smoke rising above the trees
+alongside the river, and at least a couple of miles in his rear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get him now!&rdquo; he told himself.</p>
+
+<p>He debated whether to hasten directly to the river, or continue further
+over the prairie. He decided that the margin of safety was not yet quite
+wide enough, and took another line along the bench.</p>
+
+<p>Three hours later he came out on the river&rsquo;s edge with a heart beating
+high with hope. The placid empty reach that opened to his view told him
+nothing, of course, but he was pretty sure that Imbrie was safely below
+him. His principal fear was that he had come too far; that Imbrie might
+not make it before dark. The prospect of leaving Clare unprotected in
+his hands through the night was one to make Stonor shudder. He decided
+that if Imbrie did not come up by dark, he would make his way down
+alongshore until he came on their camp.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile he sought down-stream for a better point of vantage. He came
+to a rapid. The absence of tracks on either side proved positively that
+Imbrie had not got so far as this. Stonor decided to wait here. The man
+would have to get out to track his dug-out up the swift water, and
+Stonor would have him where he wanted him. Or if it was late when he got
+here, he would no doubt camp.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor saw that the natural tracking-path was across the stream; on the
+other side also was the best camping-spot, a shelving ledge of rock with
+a low earth bank above. In order to be ready for them, therefore, he
+stripped and swam across below the rapid, towing his clothes and his
+pack on an improvised raft, that he broke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> up immediately on landing.
+Dressing, he took up his station behind a clump of berry-bushes that
+skirted the bank. Here he lay at full length with his gun in his hands.
+He made a little gap in the bushes through which he could command the
+river for a furlong or so.</p>
+
+<p>He lay there with his eyes fixed on the point around which the dug-out
+must appear. The sun was sinking low; they must soon come or they would
+not come. On this day he was sure Imbrie would work to the limit. He
+smiled grimly to think how the man would be paddling with his head over
+his shoulder, never guessing how danger lay ahead. Oh, but it was hard
+to wait, though! His muscles twitched, the blood hammered in his
+temples.</p>
+
+<p>By and by, from too intense a concentration on a single point, the whole
+scene became slightly unreal. Stonor found himself thinking: &ldquo;This is
+all a dream. Presently I will wake up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In the end, when the dug-out did come snaking around the bend, he rubbed
+his eyes to make sure they did not deceive him. Though he had been
+waiting for it all that time, it had the effect of a stunning surprise.
+His heart set up a tremendous beating, and his breath failed him a
+little. Then suddenly, as they came closer, a great calm descended on
+him. He realized that this was the moment he had planned for, and that
+his calculations were now proved correct. For the last time he threw
+over the mechanism of his gun and reloaded it.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie was paddling in the stern, of course. The man looked pretty
+nearly spent, and there was little of his cynical impudence to be seen
+now. Clare lay on her stomach on the baggage amidships, staring ahead
+with her chin propped in her palms, a characteristic boy&rsquo;s attitude that
+touched Stonor&rsquo;s heart. Her face was as white as paper, and bore a look
+of desperate composure. Stonor had never seen that look; seeing it now
+he shuddered, thinking, what if he had not found them before nightfall!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>Imbrie grounded the canoe on the shelf of rock immediately below Stonor,
+and no more than five paces from the muzzle of his gun. Clare climbed
+out over the baggage without waiting to be spoken to, and walked away
+up-stream a few steps, keeping her back turned to the man. Her head was
+sunk between her shoulders; she stared out over the rapids, seeing
+nothing. At the sight of the little figure&rsquo;s piteous dejection rage
+surged up in Stonor; he saw red.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie got out and went to pick his course up the rapids. He cast a
+sidelong look at Clare&rsquo;s back as he passed her. The man was too weary to
+have much devilry in him at the moment. But in his dark eyes there was a
+promise of devilry.</p>
+
+<p>Having laid out his course he returned to the bow of the dug-out for his
+tracking-line. This was the moment Stonor had been waiting for. He rose
+up and stepped forward through the low bushes. Clare saw him first. A
+little gasping cry broke from her. Imbrie spun round, and found himself
+looking into the barrel of the policeman&rsquo;s Enfield. No sound escaped
+from Imbrie. His lips turned back over his teeth like an animal&rsquo;s.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said, in a voice of deceitful softness: &ldquo;Take your knife and cut
+off a length of that line, say about ten feet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No one could have guessed from his look nor his tone that an insane rage
+possessed him; that he was fighting the impulse to reverse his gun and
+club the man&rsquo;s brains out there on the rock.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie did not instantly move to obey.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look sharp!&rdquo; rasped Stonor. &ldquo;It wouldn&rsquo;t come hard for me to put a
+bullet through you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie thought better of it, and cut off the rope as ordered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now throw the knife on the ground.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>Imbrie obeyed, and stepped towards Stonor, holding the rope out. There
+was an evil glint in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor stepped back. &ldquo;No, you don&rsquo;t! Keep within shooting distance, or
+this gun will go off!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Miss Starling,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;Come and tie this man&rsquo;s wrists together
+behind his back, while I keep him covered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She approached, still staring half witlessly as if she saw an
+apparition. She was shaking like an aspen-leaf.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pull yourself together!&rdquo; commanded Stonor with stern kindness. &ldquo;I am
+not a ghost. I am depending on you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Her back straightened. She took the rope from Imbrie&rsquo;s hands, and passed
+a turn around his extended wrists. Stonor kept his gun at the man&rsquo;s
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At this range it would make a clean hole,&rdquo; he said, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>To Clare he said: &ldquo;Tie it as tight as you can. I&rsquo;ll finish the job.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When she had done her best, he handed his gun over and doubled the
+knots. Forcing Imbrie to a sitting position, he likewise tied his
+ankles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That will hold him, I think,&rdquo; he said, rising.</p>
+
+<p>The words seemed to break the spell that held Clare. She sank down on
+the stones and burst into tears, shaking from head to foot with
+uncontrollable soft sobs. The sight unnerved Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he cried like a man daft, clenching his impotent hands.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie smiled. Watching Stonor, he said with unnatural perspicacity:
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;d like to pick her up, wouldn&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor spun on his heel toward the man. &ldquo;Hold your tongue!&rdquo; he roared.
+&ldquo;By God! another word and I&rsquo;ll brain you! You damned scoundrel! You
+scum!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>If Imbrie had wished to provoke the other man to an outburst, he got a
+little more than enough. He cringed from the other&rsquo;s blazing eyes, and
+said no more.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor bent over Clare. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t, don&rsquo;t grieve so!&rdquo; he murmured.
+&ldquo;Everything is all right now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s just&mdash;just relief. I&rsquo;m just silly now.
+To-day was too much&mdash;too much to bear!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Come away with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He helped her to her feet and they walked away along the beach. Imbrie&rsquo;s
+eyes as they followed were not pleasant to see.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, I must touch you&mdash;to prove that you&rsquo;re real,&rdquo; she said
+appealingly. &ldquo;Is it wrong?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take my arm,&rdquo; he said. He drew her close to his side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, that man cannot ever have been my husband. It is not possible I
+could ever have given myself to such a one!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe he is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, I meant to throw myself in the river to-night if you had not
+come.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, don&rsquo;t! I can&rsquo;t bear it! I saw.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My flesh crawls at him! To be alone with such a monster&mdash;so terribly
+alone&mdash;I can&rsquo;t tell you&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t distress yourself so!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not&mdash;now. I&rsquo;m relieving myself. I&rsquo;ve got to talk, or my head will
+burst. The thing that keeps things in broke just now. I&rsquo;ve got to talk.
+I suppose I&rsquo;m putting it all off on you now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I guess I can stand it,&rdquo; he said grimly.</p>
+
+<p>She asked very low: &ldquo;Do you love me, Martin?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know I do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I know, but I had to make you say it, because I&rsquo;ve got to tell
+you. I love you. I adore you. If loving you in my mind is wicked, I
+shall have to be a wicked woman. Oh, I&rsquo;ll keep the law. From what I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
+told you in the beginning, I must have already done some man a wrong. I
+shall not wrong another. But I had to tell you. You knew already, so it
+can do no great harm.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He glanced back at Imbrie. &ldquo;If the law should insist on keeping up such
+a horrible thing it would have to be defied,&rdquo; he said&mdash;&ldquo;even if I am a
+policeman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I tell you he is not the man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hope you&rsquo;re right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if I am not free, I should not let you ruin yourself on my
+account.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ruin? That&rsquo;s only a word. A man&rsquo;s all right as long as he can work.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Martin, it seems as if I brought trouble and unhappiness on all
+whom I approach!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s nonsense!&rdquo; he said quickly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve made me! However this thing
+turns out. You&rsquo;ve brought beauty into my life. You&rsquo;ve taken me out of
+myself. You&rsquo;ve given me an ideal to live up to!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, how sweet for you to say it!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;It makes me feel real.
+I am only a poor wandering ghost of a woman, and you&rsquo;re so solid and
+convincing!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There! I&rsquo;m all right now!&rdquo; she said, with an abrupt return to the
+boyish, prosaic air that he found utterly adorable. &ldquo;I have exploded.
+I&rsquo;m hungry. Let&rsquo;s go back and make supper. It&rsquo;s your turn to talk. Tell
+me how you got here in advance of us, you wonderful man! And Mary&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;
+She stopped short and her eyes filled. &ldquo;How selfish of me to forget her
+even for a moment!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was not badly wounded,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll probably overtake her
+to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you? I thought I saw a ghost when you rose up from the bushes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No magic in that,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;I just walked round by the hills.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just walked round by the hills,&rdquo; she echoed, mock<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>ing his offhand
+manner, and burst out laughing. &ldquo;That was nothing at all!&rdquo; Her eyes
+added something more that she dared not put into words: &ldquo;You were made
+for a woman to love to distraction!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When they returned to the dug-out, Imbrie studied their faces through
+narrowed lids, trying to read there what had passed between them. Their
+serenity discomposed him. Hateful taunts trembled on his lips, but he
+dared not utter them.</p>
+
+<p>As for Clare and Stonor, neither of them sentimental persons, their
+breasts were eased. Each now felt that he could depend on the other in
+the best sense until death: meanwhile passion could wait. They made a
+fire together and cooked their supper with as unconscious an air as if
+they had just come out from home a mile or two to picnic. They ignored
+Imbrie, particularly Clare, who, with that wonderful faculty that women
+possess, simply obliterated him by her unconsciousness of his presence.
+The prisoner could not understand their air towards each other. He
+watched them with a puzzled scowl. Clare was like a child over the
+prairie-chicken. An amiable dispute arose over the division of it, which
+Stonor won and forced her to eat every mouthful.</p>
+
+<p>She washed the dishes while he cleared a space among the bushes on top
+of the bank, and pitched her little tent. The camp-bed was still in
+Imbrie&rsquo;s outfit, and Stonor set it up with tender hands, thinking of the
+burden it would bear throughout the night. Also in Imbrie&rsquo;s outfit he
+found his own service revolver, which he returned to Clare for her
+protection.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards they made a little private fire for themselves a hundred feet
+or so from Imbrie, and sedately sat themselves down beside it to talk.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said: &ldquo;If you feel like it, tell me what happened after I went to
+hunt my horses that morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I feel like it,&rdquo; she said, with a smile. &ldquo;It is such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> a comfort to be
+able to talk again. Mary and I scarcely dared whisper. You had been gone
+about half an hour that morning when all the Indians rode down out of
+the woods, and crossed the ford to our side. There were about thirty of
+them, I should say. I did just what you told me, that is, went on with
+my packing as if they were not there. For a little while they stood
+around staring like sulky children. Finally one of them said to me
+through Mary with a sort of truculent air, like a child experimenting to
+see how far he can go, that they were going to take Imbrie back. I told
+Mary to tell him that that was up to him; that he would have to deal
+with you later, if they did. Meanwhile I noticed they were edging
+between me and Imbrie, and presently Imbrie stood up, unbound. He took
+command of the band. It seemed he had known they were coming. I was only
+anxious to see them all ride off and leave us.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Soon I saw there was worse coming. At first I knew only by Mary&rsquo;s
+scared face. She argued with them. She would not tell me what it was all
+about. Gradually I understood that Imbrie was telling them I was his
+wife, and they must take me, too. I almost collapsed. Mary did the best
+she could for me. I don&rsquo;t know all that she said. It did no good. The
+principal Indian asked me if I was Imbrie&rsquo;s wife, and I could only
+answer that I did not know, that I had lost my memory. I suppose this
+seemed like a mere evasion to them. When Mary saw that they were
+determined, she said they must take her, too. She thought this was what
+you would want. They refused, but she threatened to identify every man
+of them to the police, so they had to take her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One man&rsquo;s horse had been killed, and they sent him and three others off
+to the Horse Track village on foot to get horses to ride home on. That
+provided horses for Imbrie, Mary, and me. They made them go at top speed
+all day. I expect it nearly killed the horses. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> was like a dead woman;
+I neither felt weariness nor anything else much. If it had not been for
+Mary I could not have survived it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We arrived at their village near Swan Lake early in the afternoon.
+Imbrie stopped there only long enough to collect food. We never had
+anything to eat but tough smoked meat of some kind, dry biscuits, and
+bitter tea, horrible stuff! It didn&rsquo;t make much difference, though.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Imbrie told the Indians what to say when the police came. He couldn&rsquo;t
+speak their language very well, so he had to use Mary to translate, and
+Mary told me. Mary was trying to get on Imbrie&rsquo;s good side now. She said
+it wouldn&rsquo;t do any harm, and might make things easier for us. If we
+lulled his suspicions we might get a chance to escape later, she said.
+She wanted me to make up to Imbrie, too, but I couldn&rsquo;t.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Imbrie told the Indians to go about their usual work as if nothing had
+happened, and simply deny everything if they were questioned. Nothing
+could be proved he said, for he and Mary and I would never be found nor
+heard of again. He was going to take us back to his country, he said. By
+that they understood, I think, that we were going to disappear off the
+earth. They seemed to have the most absolute faith in him. They thought
+you wouldn&rsquo;t dare follow until you had secured help from the post, which
+would take many days.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What about the breed woman?&rdquo; interrupted Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was waiting there at the Swan Lake village. She came with us as a
+matter of course, and helped paddle the dug-out. Mary paddled, too, but
+she didn&rsquo;t work as hard as she made believe. We got in the river before
+dark, but Imbrie made them paddle until late. I dreaded the first camp,
+but Imbrie let me alone. Mary said he was afraid of me because he
+thought I was crazy. After that, you may be sure, I played up to that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
+idea. It worked for a day or two, but I saw from his eyes that he was
+gradually becoming suspicious.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At night Imbrie and the breed woman took turns watching. Whenever we
+got a chance Mary and I talked about you, and what you would do. We knew
+of course that the man was coming out from Fort Enterprise, and I was
+sure that you would send him back for aid, and come right after us
+yourself. So Mary wrote you the note on a piece of bark, and set it
+adrift in the current. It was wonderful how she deceived them right
+before their eyes. But they gave us a good deal of freedom. They knew we
+could do nothing unless we could get weapons, or steal the canoes. She
+went down the shore a little way to launch her message to you.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that&rsquo;s about all I can remember. The days on the river were like
+a nightmare. All we did was to watch for you, and listen at night. Then
+came yesterday. By that time Imbrie was beginning to feel secure, and
+was taking it easier. We were sitting on the shore after the second
+spell when the breed woman came running in in a panic. We understood
+from her gestures that she had seen you turning into the next reach of
+the river below. Mary&rsquo;s heart and mine jumped for joy. Imbrie hustled us
+into the dug-out, and paddled like mad until he had put a couple of
+bends between us and the spot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Later, he put the breed woman ashore. She had her gun. We were
+terrified for you, but could do nothing. Imbrie carried us a long way
+further before he camped. That was a dreadful night. We had no way of
+knowing what was happening. Then came this morning. You saw what
+happened then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor asked: &ldquo;What did you make of that breed woman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing much, Martin. I felt just as I had with Imbrie, that I must
+have known her at some time. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> treated me well enough; that is to
+say, she made no secret of the fact that she despised me, but was
+constrained to look after me as something that Imbrie valued.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jealous?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is the connection between her and Imbrie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. They just seemed to take each other for granted.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did Imbrie address her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. They spoke to each other in some Indian tongue. Mary said
+it sounded a little like the Beaver language, but she could not
+understand it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where do you suppose this woman kept herself while Imbrie was living
+beside the falls?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If we knew that it would explain much!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that&rsquo;s all of my story,&rdquo; said Clare. &ldquo;Now tell me every little
+thing you&rsquo;ve done and thought since you left us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a large order,&rdquo; said Stonor, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>When he had finished his tale he took her to the door of her tent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where are you going to sleep?&rdquo; she asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Down by the fire.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Near&mdash;him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That won&rsquo;t keep me awake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if he should work loose and attack you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take precious good care of that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s so far away!&rdquo; she said plaintively.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Twenty-five feet!&rdquo; he said smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t you&mdash;sleep close outside my tent where I could hear you
+breathing if I woke?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled, and gave her his eyes deep and clear. There comes a moment
+between every two who deeply love when shame naturally drops away, and
+to assume<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> shame after that is the rankest hypocrisy. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he
+said simply.</p>
+
+<p>She felt no shame either. &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You know best.
+Good-night, Martin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor went back to the fire. He was too much excited to think of
+sleeping immediately, but it was a happy excitement; he could even
+afford at the moment not to hate Imbrie. The prisoner watched his every
+movement through eyes that he tried to make sleepy-looking, but the
+sparkle of hatred betrayed him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You seem well pleased with yourself,&rdquo; he sneered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why shouldn&rsquo;t I be?&rdquo; said Stonor good-naturedly. &ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t I made a good
+haul to-day?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you do it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I just borrowed a little of your magic for the occasion and flew
+through the air.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;re not out of the woods yet,&rdquo; said Imbrie sourly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if you do succeed in taking me in, you&rsquo;ll have some great
+explaining to do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How&rsquo;s that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To satisfy your officers why you hounded a man simply because you were
+after his wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor grinned. &ldquo;Now that view of the matter never occurred to me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It will to others.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we&rsquo;ll see.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s become of the two women?&rdquo; asked Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re on their way down-stream.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What happened anyway, damn you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laughed and told him.</p>
+
+<p>Later, after a thoughtful silence, Stonor suddenly asked: &ldquo;Imbrie, how
+did you treat measles among the Kakisas last year? That would be a good
+thing for me to know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>&ldquo;No doubt. But I shan&rsquo;t tell you,&rdquo; was the sullen answer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The worst thing we have to deal with up here is pneumonia; how would
+you deal with a case?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you asking me such questions for?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;re supposed to be a doctor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to share my medical knowledge with every guy who asks. It
+was too hard to come by.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s not the usual doctor&rsquo;s attitude.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A hell of a lot I care!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor took out his note-book, and wrote across one of the pages: &ldquo;The
+body was not carried over the falls.&rdquo; He then poked the fire into a
+bright blaze, and showed the page to Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What have I written?&rdquo; he asked, watching the man narrowly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie glanced at it indifferently, and away again. There was not the
+slightest change in his expression. Stonor was convinced he had not
+understood it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t tell you,&rdquo; muttered Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just as you like. If I untie your hands, will you write a line from my
+dictation?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No. What foolishness is this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Only that I suspect you can neither read nor write. This is your
+opportunity to prove that you can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, go to hell!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m satisfied,&rdquo; said Stonor, putting away the book.</p>
+
+<p>Travelling down the river next morning was child&rsquo;s play by comparison
+with the labour of the ascent. The current carried them with light
+hearts. That is to say, two of the hearts on board were light. Imbrie,
+crouched in the bow with his inscrutable gaze, was hatching new schemes
+of villainy perhaps. Clare sat as far as possible from him, and with her
+back turned. All day she maintained the fiction that she and Stonor were
+alone in the dug-out. In the reaction from the terrors of the last few
+days her speech bubbled like a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> child&rsquo;s. She pitched her voice low to
+keep it from carrying forward. All her thoughts looked to the future.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Three or four days to the village at Swan Lake, you say. We won&rsquo;t have
+to wait there, will we?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My horses are waiting.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then four days more to Fort Enterprise. You said there was a white
+woman there. How I long to see one of my own kind! She&rsquo;ll be my
+first&mdash;in this incarnation. Then we&rsquo;ll go right out on the steamboat,
+won&rsquo;t we?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll have to wait a few days for her August trip.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll come with me, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I&rsquo;ll have to take my prisoners out to headquarters at Miwasa
+landing&mdash;perhaps all the way to town if it is so ordered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And when we get to town, what shall I do? Adrift on the world!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Before that I am sure we will meet with anxious inquiries for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I have a comfortable feeling at the back of my head that I have
+people somewhere. Poor things, what a state they must be in! It will be
+part of your duty to take me home, won&rsquo;t it? Surely the authorities
+wouldn&rsquo;t let me travel alone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Surely not!&rdquo; said Stonor assuming more confidence than he felt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it strange and thrilling to think of a civilized land where
+trolley cars clang in the streets, and electric lights shine at night;
+where people, crowds and crowds of people, do exactly the same things at
+the same hours every day of their lives except Sundays, and never dream
+of any other kind of life! Think of sauntering down-town in a pretty
+summer dress and a becoming hat, and chatting with scores of people you
+know, and looking at things in the stores and buying useless
+trifles&mdash;where have I done all that, I wonder? Think of pulling up one&rsquo;s
+chair to a snowy tablecloth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>&mdash;and, oh, Martin! the taste of good food!
+Funny, isn&rsquo;t it, when I have forgotten so much, that I should remember
+<em>things</em> so well!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare insisted that Stonor had overtired himself the last few days, and
+made him loaf at the paddle with many a pause to fill and light his
+pipe. Even so their progress was faster than in the other direction.
+Shortly after midday she told him that they were nearing the spot where
+Mary had been shot the day before. They looked eagerly for the place.</p>
+
+<p>To their great disappointment Mary had gone. However, Stonor pointed out
+that it was a good sign she had been able to travel so soon.</p>
+
+<p>They camped for the night at a spot where Mary had spelled the day
+before. Stonor observed from the tracks that it was the breed woman who
+had moved around the fire cooking. Mary apparently had been unable to
+leave the canoe. It made him anxious. He did not speak of it to Clare.
+He saw Imbrie examining the tracks also.</p>
+
+<p>This camping-place was a bed of clean, dry sand deposited on the inside
+of one of the river-bends, and exposed by the falling water. Stonor
+chose it because it promised a soft bed, and his bones were weary. The
+bank above was about ten feet high and covered with a dense undergrowth
+of bushes, which they did not try to penetrate, since a dead tree
+stranded on the beach provided an ample store of fuel. Clare&rsquo;s tent was
+pitched at one end of the little beach, while Imbrie, securely bound,
+and Stonor slept one on each side of the fire a few paces distant.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Stonor was the first astir. A delicate grey haze hung
+over the river, out of which the tops of the willow-bushes rose like
+islands. He chopped and split a length of the stranded trunk, and made
+up the fire. Imbrie awoke, and lay watching him with a lazy sneer.
+Stonor had no warning of the catastrophe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> He was stooping over sorting
+out the contents of Imbrie&rsquo;s grub-bag, his back to the bushes, when
+there came a crashing sound that seemed within him&mdash;yet outside. That
+was all he knew.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI
+<span class="subtitle">THE LAST STAGE ON SWAN RIVER.</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>When Stonor&rsquo;s sense returned the first thing of which he was conscious
+was Clare&rsquo;s soft hand on his head. He opened his eyes and saw her face
+bending over him, the nurse&rsquo;s face, serious, compassionate and
+self-forgetful. No one knows what reserves may be contained in a woman
+until another&rsquo;s wound draws on them. He found himself lying where he had
+fallen; but there was a bag under his neck to hold his head up. Putting
+up his hand he found that his head was tightly bandaged. There seemed to
+be a mechanical hammer inside his skull.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What happened?&rdquo; he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>She scarcely breathed her reply. &ldquo;The woman shot you. She was hidden in
+the bush.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Looking beyond her, Stonor saw Imbrie and the breed woman eating by the
+fire in high good humour. He observed that the woman was wearing the
+revolver he had given Clare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She disarmed me before I could fire,&rdquo; Clare went on. &ldquo;Your wound is not
+serious. The bullet only ploughed the scalp above your ear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who bandaged me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did. They didn&rsquo;t want to let me, but I made them. I sewed the wound
+first. I don&rsquo;t know how I did it, but I did.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie looked over and saw them talking. &ldquo;Let him alone,&rdquo; he said
+harshly. &ldquo;Come over here and get your breakfast.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go,&rdquo; said Stonor with his eyes and lips. &ldquo;If he attempted to ill-treat
+you in my sight I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>She understood, and went without demur. Imbrie motioned her to a place
+beside him and put a plate before her. She went through the motions of
+eating, but her eyes never left Stonor&rsquo;s face. Stonor closed his eyes
+and considered their situation. Frightful enough it was in good sooth,
+yet it might have been worse. For as he lay quiet he felt his powers
+returning. Beyond a slight nausea he was himself again. He thanked God
+for a hard skull.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the breed woman was bragging of her exploit. She spoke in
+English for the pleasure it gave her to triumph over the whites.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He gave Mary his canoe and made for the bench.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know that,&rdquo; said Imbrie. &ldquo;Go on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, as soon as Mary had bound up her leg she wanted to start. But her
+leg got worse on the way. When it came time to spell, she had to untie
+me and let me cook, while she kept watch over me with the gun&mdash;my gun
+that Stonor gave her. It was at this place that we spelled. When we went
+on, her leg kept getting worse, and soon she said we&rsquo;d have to stop for
+the night. So I made camp. Then she ordered me to come up to her and get
+my hands tied, and patted the gun as a sort of hint. I went up to her
+all right, and when she put down the gun and took up the rope, I
+snatched up the gun, and then I had her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman and Imbrie roared with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I just took her knife and her food, and went,&rdquo; the woman said,
+callously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Damned inhuman&mdash;!&rdquo; Stonor cried involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with you!&rdquo; she returned. &ldquo;Do you think I was going to
+let her take me in and turn me over for shooting at a policeman? Not if
+I know it! I was charitable to her if it comes to that. I could have
+taken her canoe, too, and then she would properly have starved. But I
+left her the canoe and a piece of bread, too. Mary Moosa is fat enough.
+I guess she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> can live off her fat long enough to get to Myengeen&rsquo;s
+village.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What then?&rdquo; asked Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I just walked off up the river. She couldn&rsquo;t follow me with her leg.
+She couldn&rsquo;t track the canoe up the rapids. All she can do is to go on
+down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you know where I was?&rdquo; asked Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know. I took a chance. I had the gun and a belt of cartridges.
+I can snare fool-hens and catch fish. It was a sight better than going
+to jail. I knew if the policeman got you he&rsquo;d bring you down river, and
+I figured I&rsquo;d have another chance to get him. And if you got him I
+figured there wouldn&rsquo;t be any hurry, and you&rsquo;d wait for awhile for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You did well,&rdquo; said Imbrie with condescending approval.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nearly all night I walked along the shore looking for your camp. At
+last I saw the little tent and I knew I was all right. Then I waited for
+daylight to shoot. The damned policeman turned his head as I fired, or I
+would have finished him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie dropped into the Indian tongue that they ordinarily used. From
+his knowledge of the Beaver language Stonor understood it pretty well,
+though a word escaped him here and there.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What will we do with him?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be careful,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;They may understand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No fear of that. We know that Clare doesn&rsquo;t speak our tongue.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe the policeman speaks Beaver.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He doesn&rsquo;t, though. He spoke English to them. I asked Shose Cardinal if
+he spoke Beaver, and he said no. And when I pushed off I insulted him in
+our tongue, and he paid no attention. Listen to this&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie turned, and in the Indian tongue addressed an unrepeatable insult
+to the wounded trooper. Stonor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> though almost suffocated with rage,
+contrived to maintain an unchanged face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see?&rdquo; said Imbrie to the woman, laughing. &ldquo;No white man would take
+that. We can say what we like to each other. Speak English now just to
+torment him, the swine! Ask me in English what I&rsquo;m going to do with
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She did so.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; he answered carelessly. &ldquo;Just tie him up, I guess,
+and leave him sitting here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tie him up?&rdquo; she said with an evil smile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure! Give him leisure to prepare for his end.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They laughed together.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor dreaded the effect of this on Clare. She, however, seemed to be
+upborne by some inner thought.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know something better than that,&rdquo; the woman said presently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t tie him up. Leave him just as he is, without gun, axe or knife.
+Let him walk around until he goes off his nut or starves to death. Then
+there&rsquo;ll be no evidence. But if you leave him tied they&rsquo;ll find his body
+with the rope round it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a good idea. But he might possibly make his way to Myengeen&rsquo;s
+village.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just let him try it. It&rsquo;s a hundred and fifty miles round by land.
+Muskeg and down timber.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if he sticks to the river, Mary Moosa might bring him back help.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;ll get no help from Myengeen. She&rsquo;s got to go to Enterprise for
+help. Two weeks. Even a redbreast couldn&rsquo;t last two weeks in the bush.
+And by that time we&rsquo;ll be&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Easy!&rdquo; said Imbrie warningly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll be out of reach,&rdquo; she said, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, it&rsquo;s a go,&rdquo; said Imbrie. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll leave him just as he is.
+Pack up now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>Stonor glanced anxiously at Clare. Her face was deathly pale, but she
+kept her head up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think I&rsquo;m going to go and leave him here?&rdquo; she said firmly to
+Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t see how you&rsquo;re going to help yourself,&rdquo; said he, without meeting
+her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you put me in the dug-out I&rsquo;ll overturn it,&rdquo; she said promptly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie was taken aback. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tie you up,&rdquo; he muttered, scowling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You cannot tie me so tight that I can&rsquo;t overturn that cranky boat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be the first to drown.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled. &ldquo;Do you think I value the life you offer me?&rdquo; She held out
+her hands to him. &ldquo;Tie me and see.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There could be no mistaking the firmness of her resolve. Imbrie
+hesitated and weakened. He turned to the breed woman questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>She said in the Indian tongue: &ldquo;What do you look at me for? I&rsquo;ve told
+you before that you&rsquo;re risking both our necks by taking her. The world
+is full of skinny little pale-faced women, but you&rsquo;ve only got one neck.
+Better leave her with the man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie shook his head slowly.</p>
+
+<p>The woman shrugged. &ldquo;Well, if you got to have her, fix it to suit
+yourself.&rdquo; She ostentatiously went on with the packing.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie looked sidewise at Clare with a kind of hungry pain in his sullen
+eyes. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t leave her,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take them both.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman flung up her hands in a passionate gesture. &ldquo;Foolishness!&rdquo; she
+cried.</p>
+
+<p>A new idea seemed to occur to Imbrie; he said in English: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take the
+redbreast for my servant. Upstream work is no cinch. I&rsquo;ll make him track
+us. It&rsquo;ll be a novelty to have a redbreast for a servant.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>Clare glanced anxiously at Stonor as if expecting an outbreak.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie asked with intolerable insolence: &ldquo;Will you be my servant,
+Redbreast?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare&rsquo;s hands clenched, and she scowled at Imbrie like a little
+fire-eater.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor answered calmly: &ldquo;If I have to be.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare&rsquo;s eyes darted to him full of relief and gratitude; she had not
+expected so great a sacrifice. The brave lip trembled.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie laughed. &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Redbreasts don&rsquo;t relish starving in
+the bush any better than ordinary men!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The breed woman, on the verge of an angry outburst, checked herself, and
+merely shrugged again. She said quietly in her own tongue: &ldquo;He thinks
+he&rsquo;s going to escape.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure he does!&rdquo; answered Imbrie, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m the man who will prevent him.
+I&rsquo;ll keep the weapons in my own hands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>True to his word he collected all the weapons in the outfit; three guns,
+the revolver and three knives. He gave the breed woman her own gun and
+her ammunition-belt, which she strapped round her; he kept his gun, and
+the other two fire-arms he disabled by removing parts of the mechanism,
+which he put in his pocket. He stuck two knives in his belt, and gave
+the woman the third, which she slipped into its customary resting-place
+in the top of her moccasin. Imbrie ordered Stonor to get up and strike
+Clare&rsquo;s tent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He must be fed,&rdquo; said Clare quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure, I don&rsquo;t mind feeding him as long as he&rsquo;s going to earn it,&rdquo; said
+Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>Clare hastened to carry Stonor her untasted plate, but Imbrie
+intercepted her. &ldquo;No more whispering,&rdquo; he said, scowling. &ldquo;Eat your own
+breakfast. The woman will feed him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>In half an hour they were on their way back up the river. They allowed
+Stonor to rest and recuperate in the dug-out until they came to the
+first rapid. Later, the policeman bent to the tracking-line with a good
+will. This was better luck than he had hoped for. His principal fear was
+that he might not be able to dissemble sufficiently to keep their
+suspicions lulled. He knew, of course, that if they should guess of what
+he was thinking his life would not be worth a copper penny. His
+intuition told him that even though he was a prisoner, Clare was safe
+from Imbrie while he was present, and he had determined to submit
+cheerfully to anything in order to keep alive. He only needed three or
+four more days!</p>
+
+<p>So, with a loop of the tracking-line over his shoulder, he plodded
+through the ooze of the shore, and over the stones; waded out round
+reefs, and plunged headlong through overhanging willows. Imbrie walked
+behind him with his gun over his arm. Clare lay on the baggage in the
+dug-out wistfully watching Stonor&rsquo;s back, and the breed woman steered.
+In the more sluggish reaches of the river, the men went aboard and
+paddled.</p>
+
+<p>When they spelled in mid-morning Imbrie and the woman became involved in
+a discussion of which Stonor understood almost every word. They had
+finished eating, and all four were sitting in a row on a beach with
+great stones sticking up through the sand. Clare was at one end, Stonor
+at the other. They were giving Stonor a rest as they might have rested a
+horse before putting him in harness again.</p>
+
+<p>The woman said impatiently: &ldquo;How long are you going to keep up this
+foolishness?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What foolishness?&rdquo; Imbrie said sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Letting this man live. He&rsquo;s your enemy and mine. He&rsquo;s not going to
+forget that I shot at him twice. He&rsquo;s got some scheme in his head right
+now. He&rsquo;s much too willing to work.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s just women&rsquo;s talk. I know what I&rsquo;m doing. I&rsquo;ve got him just
+right because he&rsquo;s scared of losing the girl.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right. Many times you ask me what to do. Sometimes you don&rsquo;t do
+what I say, and then you&rsquo;re sorry afterwards. I tell you this is
+foolishness. You want the white-face girl and you let the man live to
+please her! What sense is there in that? She won&rsquo;t take you as long as
+he lives.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I kill him she&rsquo;ll kill herself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wah! That&rsquo;s just a threat. She&rsquo;ll hold it over you as long as he lives.
+When he&rsquo;s dead she&rsquo;ll have to make the best of it. You&rsquo;ll have to kill
+him in the end. Why not do it now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know what I&rsquo;m doing,&rdquo; repeated Imbrie stubbornly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m the master
+now. Women turn naturally to the master. In a few days I&rsquo;ll put this
+white man so low she&rsquo;ll despise him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman laughed. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know much about women. The worse you treat
+him the crazier she&rsquo;ll be about him. And if she <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;get&rsquo;s&rdquo;'>gets</ins> a
+knife, look out!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t get a knife. And if my way doesn&rsquo;t work I can always kill
+him. He&rsquo;s useful. We&rsquo;re getting up-stream faster than we would without
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s too willing to go up the river, I think.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no help for him up there, is there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. You&rsquo;d better do what I say.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, shut up. Go and pack the grub. We&rsquo;ll start soon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman went to obey with her customary shrug.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor had much food for thought in this conversation. He marked with
+high satisfaction that the way the woman spoke did not for a moment
+suggest that Imbrie had any rights over Clare, nor that he had ever
+possessed her in the past. Listen as he might, he could gain no clue to
+the relationship between the two speakers. He hoped they might betray
+themselves further<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> later on. Meanwhile the situation was hazardous in
+the extreme. There was no doubt the woman would soon wear Imbrie down.
+If he, Stonor, could only communicate with Clare it would help.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie turned to Clare with what he meant for an ingratiating smile. &ldquo;Is
+your memory coming back at all?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>In itself there was nothing offensive in the question, and Clare had the
+wit to see that nothing was to be gained by unnecessarily snubbing the
+man. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said simply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re all right in every other way. There&rsquo;s nothing the matter
+with you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She let it go at that.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t remember the days when I was courting you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said with an idle air, &ldquo;where was that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He saw the trap. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you some other time.&mdash;Redbreast has long
+ears.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>While Imbrie&rsquo;s attention was occupied by Clare a possible way of sending
+her a message occurred to Stonor. The woman was busy at some paces&rsquo;
+distance. Stonor was sitting on a flat stone with his feet in the sand.
+Carelessly picking up a stick, he commenced to make letters in the sand.
+Clare, whose eyes never left him for long, instantly became aware of
+what he was doing; but so well did she cover her glances that Imbrie
+took no alarm.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, printing a word at a time, and instantly rubbing it out with his
+foot, wrote: &ldquo;Make out to scorn me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Imbrie was making agreeable conversation and Clare was leading
+him on sufficiently to keep him interested. Small as his success was, he
+was charmed with it. Finally he rose regretfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Time to go,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Go get in your harness, Stonor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>The trooper arose and slouched to the tracking-line with a hang-dog air.
+Clare&rsquo;s eyes followed him in well-assumed indignation at his supineness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;ll make a good pack-horse yet,&rdquo; said Imbrie with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So it seems,&rdquo; she said bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>They started. Imbrie, much encouraged by this little passage, continued
+to bait Stonor at intervals during the afternoon. The policeman, fearful
+of appearing to submit too suddenly, sometimes rebelled, but always
+sullenly gave in when Imbrie raised his gun. Stonor saw that, so far as
+the man was concerned, he need have little fear of overdoing his part.
+Imbrie in his vanity was quite ready to believe that Clare was turning
+from Stonor to him. On the other hand, the breed woman was not at all
+deceived. Her lip curled scornfully at all this by-play.</p>
+
+<p>Clare&rsquo;s glance at Stonor, keeping up what she had begun, progressed from
+surprise through indignation to open scorn. Meanwhile in the same ratio
+she held herself less and less aloof from Imbrie. She, too, was careful
+not to overdo it. She made it clear to Imbrie that it would be a good
+long time yet before he could expect any positive favours from her. She
+did it so well that Stonor, though he had himself told her to act in
+that manner, was tormented by the sight. After all, he was human.</p>
+
+<p>Once and once only during the day did Stonor&rsquo;s and Clare&rsquo;s glances meet
+unobserved by the others. It happened as the trooper was embarking in
+the dug-out preparatory to paddling up a smooth reach. Imbrie and the
+woman were both behind Clare, and she gave Stonor a deep look imploring
+his forgiveness for the wrong she seemed to do him. It heartened him
+amazingly. Bending low as he laid the coiled rope in the bow, his lips
+merely shaped the words:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Keep it up!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>So long and so hard did they work that day that they were able to camp
+for the night only a few miles short of the highest point they had yet
+reached on the river. The camping-place was a pleasant opening up on top
+of the bank, carpeted with pine-needles. The murmur of the pines
+reminded Clare and Stonor of nights on the lower river&mdash;nights both
+happy and terrible, which now seemed years past.</p>
+
+<p>While supper was preparing Clare appeared out of her tent with some long
+strips of cotton. She went unhesitatingly to where Stonor sat.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie sprang up. &ldquo;Keep away from him!&rdquo; he snarled.</p>
+
+<p>Clare calmly sat down by Stonor. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to dress his wound,&rdquo; she
+said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d do the same for a dog. I don&rsquo;t want to speak to him. You can
+sit beside me while I work.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie sullenly submitted.</p>
+
+<p>After supper it appeared from Imbrie&rsquo;s evil grin that he was promising
+himself a bit of fun with the policeman. But this time he was taking no
+chances.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m tired of toting this gun around; tie his hands,&rdquo; he ordered the
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>The night was chilly and they had a good fire on the edge of the bank.
+It lighted them weirdly as they sat in a semi-circle about it, the four
+strangely-assorted figures backed by the brown trunks of the pines, and
+roofed by the high branches. Stonor safely tied up, Imbrie put down his
+gun and lighted his pipe. He studied the policeman maliciously. He was
+not quite satisfied; even in Stonor&rsquo;s submission he felt a spirit that
+he had not yet broken.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You policemen think pretty well of yourselves, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, clearly perceiving the man&rsquo;s intention, was nevertheless
+undisturbed. This vermin was beneath him. His difficulty was to curb the
+sly desire to answer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> back. Imbrie gave him such priceless openings. But
+the part he had imposed on himself required that he seemed to be cowed
+by the man&rsquo;s crude attempts at wit. A seeming sullen silence was his
+only safe line. It required no little self-control.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie went on: &ldquo;The government sets you fellows up as a kind of bogey.
+For years they&rsquo;ve been teaching the natives that a red-coat is a kind of
+sacred monkey that all must bow down to. And you forget you&rsquo;re only a
+man like the rest of us. When you meet a man who isn&rsquo;t scared off by all
+this hocus-pocus it comes pretty hard on you. You have to sing small,
+don&rsquo;t you, Redbreast?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Silence from Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say you have to sing small, Redbreast.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just as you like.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard ugly tales about the police,&rdquo; Imbrie went on. &ldquo;It seems
+they&rsquo;re not above turning a bit of profit out of their jobs when it&rsquo;s
+safe. Is that so, Stonor?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hear you say it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You yourself only took me up in the first place because you thought
+there was a bit of a bribe in it, or a jug of whisky maybe. You thought
+I was a whisky-runner, but you couldn&rsquo;t prove it. I guess you&rsquo;re sorry
+now that you ever fooled with me, aren&rsquo;t you, Redbreast?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Answer me when I speak to you. Aren&rsquo;t you sorry now that you interfered
+with me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was a hard one. A vein stood out on Stonor&rsquo;s forehead. He thought:
+&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t say it for myself, but for her&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo; Aloud he muttered:
+&ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie roared with laughter. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m putting the police in their place!&rdquo; he
+cried. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m teaching them manners! I&rsquo;ll have him eating out of my hand
+before I&rsquo;m through with him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare, seeing the swollen vein, bled for Stonor, yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> she gave him a
+glance of scorn, and the look she gave Imbrie caused him to rise as if
+moved by a spring, and cross to her.</p>
+
+<p>As he passed the breed woman he said in the Indian tongue: &ldquo;Well, who
+was right, old woman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He sat down beside Clare.</p>
+
+<p>The woman answered: &ldquo;You fool! She&rsquo;s playing with you to save her lover.
+Any woman would do the same.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You lie!&rdquo; said Imbrie, with a fatuous side-glance at Clare. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s
+beginning to like me now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Beginning to like you!&rdquo; cried the woman scornfully. &ldquo;Fool! Watch me!
+I&rsquo;ll show you how much she likes you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Springing to her feet, and stooping over, she drew the knife from her
+moccasin. She turned on Stonor. &ldquo;Redbreast!&rdquo; she cried in English. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+sick of looking at your ugly face. Here&rsquo;s where I spoil it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She raised the knife. Her eyes blazed. Stonor really thought his hour
+had come. He scrambled to his feet. Clare, with a scream, ran between
+them, and flung her arms around Stonor&rsquo;s neck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You beast!&rdquo; she cried over her shoulder to the woman. &ldquo;A bound man!
+You&rsquo;ll have to strike him through me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman threw back her head and uttered a great, coarse laugh. She
+coolly returned the knife to her moccasin. &ldquo;You see how much she likes
+you,&rdquo; she said to Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>Clare, seeing how she had been tricked, unwound her arms from Stonor&rsquo;s
+neck, and covered her face. It seemed too cruel that all their pains the
+livelong day should go for nothing in a moment. Imbrie was scowling at
+them hatefully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t distress yourself,&rdquo; whispered Stonor. &ldquo;It couldn&rsquo;t be helped. We
+gained a whole day by it anyway. I&rsquo;ll think of something else for
+to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>&ldquo;Keep clear of him!&rdquo; cried Imbrie. &ldquo;Go to your tent!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t!&rdquo; Clare said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Better go!&rdquo; whispered Stonor. &ldquo;I am safe for the present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She went slowly to her tent and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor sat down again. Across the fire Imbrie scowled and pulled at his
+lip. The breed woman, returning to her place, had the good sense to hold
+her tongue.</p>
+
+<p>After a long while Imbrie said sullenly in the Indian tongue: &ldquo;Well,
+you&rsquo;ve got your way. You can kill him to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was a brave man, but a chill struck to his breast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I kill him?&rdquo; said the woman. &ldquo;Why have I got to do all the dirty work?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you care? You&rsquo;ve already tried twice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you kill him yourself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid of him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe not. With his hands tied.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie&rsquo;s fist clenched. &ldquo;Do you want me to beat you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman shrugged.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know very well why I don&rsquo;t want to do it,&rdquo; Imbrie went on. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+nothing to you if the girl hates you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s why, eh? You&rsquo;re scared she&rsquo;d turn from bloody hands! She&rsquo;s
+made a fool of you, all right!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind that. You do it to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not to-night?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t have it done in her sight. To-morrow morning when we spell you
+make some excuse to take him into the bush. There you shoot him or stick
+a knife in his back. I don&rsquo;t care so long as you make a job of it. You
+come back alone and make a story of how he tried to run away, see? Then
+I&rsquo;ll beat you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>&ldquo;Beat me!&rdquo; she cried indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fool! I won&rsquo;t hurt you. I&rsquo;ll just act rough to you for a while, till
+she gets better.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That girl has made me plenty trouble these last two years. I wish I&rsquo;d
+never set eyes on her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Forget it! Tie his feet together so he can&rsquo;t wander and go to bed now!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Mary Moosa&rsquo;s little mosquito-tent was still in Imbrie&rsquo;s outfit, but the
+woman preferred to roll up in her blanket by the fire like a man. Soon
+the two of them were sleeping as calmly as two children, and Stonor was
+left to his own thoughts.</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">It was a silent quartette that took to the river next day. Imbrie was
+sulky; it appeared that he no longer found any relish in gibing at
+Stonor. Clare was pale and downcast. After an hour or so they came to
+the rapids where Stonor had intercepted Imbrie and Clare, and thereafter
+the river was new to them. Stonor gathered from their talk that the
+river was new, too, to Imbrie and the woman, but that they had received
+information as to its course from Kakisa sources.</p>
+
+<p>For many miles after that the current ran smooth and slow, and they
+paddled the dug-out; Stonor in the bow, Imbrie guarding him with the
+gun, Clare behind Imbrie, and the breed woman with the stern-paddle. All
+with their backs to each other and all silent. About ten o&rsquo;clock they
+came to the mouth of a little creek coming in at the left, and here
+Imbrie indicated they would spell.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So this is the spot designed for my murder,&rdquo; thought Stonor, looking
+over the ground with a natural interest.</p>
+
+<p>The little brook was deep and sluggish; its surface was powdered with
+tiny lilies and, at its edges, long grass trailed in the water. A clean,
+grassy bank sloped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> up gradually. Further back were white-stemmed
+aspen-trees gradually thickening into the forest proper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ideal place for a picnic,&rdquo; thought Stonor grimly. As they went ashore
+he perceived that the breed woman was somewhat agitated. She continually
+wiped her forehead on her sleeve. This was somehow more reassuring than
+her usual inhuman stolidity. Imbrie clearly was anxious, too, but not
+about Stonor or what was going to happen to him. His eyes continually
+sought Clare&rsquo;s face.</p>
+
+<p>The breed woman glanced inquiringly at Imbrie. He said in the Indian
+tongue: &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll eat first.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So I have an hour&rsquo;s respite,&rdquo; thought Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>None of them displayed much appetite. Stonor forced himself to eat.
+Imbrie glanced at him oddly from time to time. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s sorry to see good
+food wasted,&rdquo; thought the trooper. &ldquo;Well, it won&rsquo;t be, if I can help
+it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When they had finished the woman said in English with a very careless
+air: &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to see if I can get some fresh meat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She means me,&rdquo; thought Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>She got her gun and departed. Stonor was aware likewise of the knife
+sticking out of the top of her moccasin. Both Imbrie and the woman had a
+self-conscious air. A child could have seen that something was afoot.
+The woman walked off through the grass and was presently lost among the
+trees.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie commanded Stonor to wash the dishes.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor reflected that since they meant to kill him anyhow if they could,
+there was nothing to be gained by putting up with further indignities.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wash them yourself,&rdquo; he said coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie shrugged, but said no more.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon they heard a shot at no great distance.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor thought: &ldquo;Now she&rsquo;ll come back and say she&rsquo;s got a bear or a
+moose, and they&rsquo;ll order me to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> back with her and bring in the meat.
+Shall I go, or shall I refuse to go? If I refuse they&rsquo;re almost sure to
+suspect that I understand their lingo; but if I go I may be able to
+disarm her. I&rsquo;ll go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Presently they saw her returning. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a moose,&rdquo; she said stolidly.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor smiled a grim inward smile. It was too simple to ask him to
+believe that she had walked into the bush and brought down a moose
+within five minutes with one shot. He knew very well that if there was a
+feast in prospect her face would be wreathed in smiles. He was careful
+to betray nothing in his own face.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie was a better actor. &ldquo;Good work!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Now we&rsquo;ll have
+something fit to eat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She said: &ldquo;I want help to bring in the meat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stonor, go help her,&rdquo; said Imbrie carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>The trooper got up with an indifferent air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Martin, don&rsquo;t go!&rdquo; Clare said involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid of her,&rdquo; Stonor said.</p>
+
+<p>The woman forced him to walk in advance of her across the grass. The
+thought of her behind him with the gun ready made Stonor&rsquo;s skin prickle
+uncomfortably, but he reflected that she would certainly not shoot until
+they were hidden in the bush.</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">When they reached the edge of the bush he stopped and looked at her.
+&ldquo;Which way?&rdquo; he asked, with an innocent air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can follow the tracks, can&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; said she.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that she was pale and perspiring freely. She moistened her lips
+before she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen paces further on he stopped again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go on!&rdquo; she said harshly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Got to tie my moccasin,&rdquo; he said, dropping on one knee and turning half
+round, so that he could keep an eye on her. She gave a swift glance over
+her shoulder. They were not yet fully out of sight of the others.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>&ldquo;Your moccasin is not untied,&rdquo; she said suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment Stonor, still crouching, sprang at her, taking care
+to keep under the gun. Grasping her knees, he flung her to the ground.
+He got the gun, but before he could raise it, she sprang at him from all
+fours like a cat, and clung to him with a passionate fury no man could
+have been capable of. Stonor was unable to shake her off without
+dropping the gun. Meanwhile she screamed for aid.</p>
+
+<p>Both Imbrie and Clare came running. Imbrie, circling round the
+struggling pair, clubbed his gun and brought it down on Stonor&rsquo;s head.
+The trooper went to earth. He did not altogether lose consciousness. The
+woman, maddened, recovered her gun, and was for dispatching him on the
+spot, but Imbrie, thinking of Clare, prevented her.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was soon able to rise, and to make his way back, albeit somewhat
+groggily, to the creek. Clare wished to support him, but he stopped her
+with a look.</p>
+
+<p>When they got back to their camp Imbrie demanded with seeming
+indignation: &ldquo;What was the matter with you? What did you expect to gain
+by jumping on her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did she take me into the bush for?&rdquo; countered Stonor. &ldquo;To put a
+bullet through me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie made a great parade of surprise. &ldquo;What makes you think that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s tried twice already, hasn&rsquo;t she? I saw it in her eye. She saw it,
+too&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; pointing to Clare. &ldquo;You heard her warn me. She never shot a
+moose. That was too simple a trick.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did shoot a moose,&rdquo; said the woman sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then why don&rsquo;t you bring some of it in and let&rsquo;s see it. You have your
+knife to cut off as much as we can carry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She turned away with a discomposed face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, well, if you won&rsquo;t take the trouble to bring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> in the meat we&rsquo;ll go
+without it,&rdquo; said Imbrie quickly. Stonor laughed.</p>
+
+<p>As they were making ready to start Stonor heard Imbrie say bitterly to
+the woman, in their own tongue: &ldquo;You made a pretty mess of that!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, do it yourself, then,&rdquo; she snarled back.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well, I will. When I see a good chance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is only the 25th,&rdquo; thought Stonor. &ldquo;By hook or by crook I must
+contrive to keep alive a couple of days longer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Above this camping-place the character of the river changed again. The
+banks became steep and stony, and the rapids succeeded each other with
+only a few hundred yards of smooth water between. Stonor became a
+fixture in the tracking-line. He worked with a right good will, hoping
+to make himself so useful that they would not feel inclined to get rid
+of him. It was a slim chance, but the best that offered at the moment.
+Moreover, every mile that he put behind him brought him so much nearer
+succour.</p>
+
+<p>That night in camp he had the satisfaction of hearing Imbrie say in
+answer to a question from the woman:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, not to-night. All day he&rsquo;s been working like a slave to try and get
+on the good side of me. Well, let him work. I&rsquo;ve no mind to break my
+back while I have him to work for me. According to the Kakisas we&rsquo;ll
+have rapids now for a long way up. Let him pull us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Stonor could allow himself to sleep with an easy mind for that night,
+anyway.</p>
+
+<p>The next two days were without special incident. Stonor lived from
+moment to moment, his fate hanging on Imbrie&rsquo;s savage and irresponsible
+impulses. Fortunately for him, he was still able to inform himself from
+the talk of the two. Each day they broke camp, tracked up-stream,
+tracked and poled up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> rapids, spelled and tracked again. In the
+rapids it was the breed woman who had to help Stonor. Imbrie would stand
+by smoking, with his gun over his arm. Stonor wondered at the woman&rsquo;s
+patience.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the second day they found another soft sandy beach to camp
+on. Stonor was so weary he could scarcely remain awake long enough to
+eat. They all turned in immediately afterwards. Latterly Imbrie had been
+forcing Stonor to lie close to him at night, and the end of the line
+that bound Stonor&rsquo;s wrists was tied around Imbrie&rsquo;s arm. The breed woman
+lay on the other side of the fire, and Clare&rsquo;s tent was pitched beyond
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor was awakened by a soft touch on his cheek. Having his nerves
+under good control, he gave no start. Opening his eyes, he saw Clare&rsquo;s
+face smiling adorably, not a foot from his own. At first he thought he
+was dreaming, and lay scarcely daring to breathe, for fear of
+dissipating the charming phantom.</p>
+
+<p>But the phantom spoke: &ldquo;Martin, you looked so tired to-night it made me
+cry. I could not sleep. I had to come and speak to you. Did I do wrong?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He feasted his tired eyes on her. How could he blame her? &ldquo;Dangerous,&rdquo;
+he whispered. &ldquo;These breeds sleep like cats.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the difference? It&rsquo;s as bad as it can be already.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;They have not ill-treated you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t mind if they did. It is terrible to see you work so hard,
+while I do nothing. Why do you work so hard for them?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have hope of meeting help up the river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled incredulously. Stonor, seeing her resigned to the worst, said
+no more about his hopes. After all they might fail, and it would be
+better not to raise her hopes only to dash them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>&ldquo;Better go,&rdquo; he urged. &ldquo;Every little while through the night one or the
+other of these breeds wakes, sits up, looks around, and goes back to
+sleep again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you glad I came, Martin?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very glad. Go back to your tent, and we&rsquo;ll talk in fancy until we fall
+asleep again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Stonor was awakened the next time by a loud, jeering laugh. It was full
+daylight. The breed woman was standing at his feet, pointing mockingly
+to the tell-tale print of Clare&rsquo;s little body in the sand beside him. A
+blinding rage filled Stonor at the implication of that coarse laugh&mdash;but
+he was helpless. Imbrie started up, and Stonor attempted to roll over on
+the depression&mdash;but Imbrie saw it, saw also the little tracks leading
+around behind the sleepers to Clare&rsquo;s tent.</p>
+
+<p>No sound escaped from Imbrie, but his smooth face turned hideous with
+rage; the lips everted over the clenched teeth, the ruddy skin livid and
+blotchy. He quickly untied the bond between him and Stonor. The woman,
+with a wicked smile, drew the knife out of her moccasin, and offered it
+to him. He eagerly snatched it up. Stonor&rsquo;s eyes were fixed
+unflinchingly on his face. He thought: &ldquo;It has come!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But at that moment Clare came out of her tent. Imbrie hid the knife and
+turned away. As he passed the breed woman Stonor heard him mutter:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll fix him to-night!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">That day as he trod the shore, bent under the tracking-line, Stonor had
+plenty to occupy his mind. Over and over he made his calculations of
+time and distance:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is the twenty-seventh. It was the fifteenth when I sent Tole
+Grampierre back to Enterprise. If he rode hard he&rsquo;d get there about noon
+on the seventeenth. The steamboat isn&rsquo;t due to start up-stream<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> until
+the twentieth, but Gaviller would surely let her go at once when he got
+my message. She&rsquo;d only need to get wood aboard and steam up. She could
+steam night and day too, at this stage of water; she&rsquo;s done it
+before&mdash;that is, if they had anybody to relieve Mathews at the engine.
+There are plenty of pilots. Surely Gaviller would order her to steam
+night and day when he read my letter! Even suppose they didn&rsquo;t get away
+until the morning of the eighteenth: that would bring them to the
+Crossing by the twenty-second.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lambert, I know, would not lose an hour in setting out over the
+prairie&mdash;just long enough to get horses together and swim them across. I
+can depend on him. Nobody knows how far it is overland from the Crossing
+to the Swan River. Nobody&rsquo;s been that way. But the chances are it&rsquo;s
+prairie land, and easy going. Say the rivers are about the same distance
+apart up there, Lambert ought to reach the Swan on the twenty-fifth, or
+at the latest the twenty-sixth. That&rsquo;s only yesterday. But we must have
+made two hundred or two hundred and fifty miles up-stream. The Swan
+certainly makes a straighter course than the Spirit. It must be less
+than a hundred miles from here to the spot where Lambert would hit this
+stream. He could make seventy-five miles or more a day down-stream. He
+would work. If everything has gone well I might meet him to-day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But things never go just the way you want them to. I must not count on
+it. Gaviller may have delayed. He&rsquo;s so careful of his precious
+steamboat. Or she may have run on a bar. Or Lambert may have met
+unexpected difficulties. I must know what I&rsquo;m going to do. Once my hands
+are tied to-night my goose is cooked. Shall I resist the woman when she
+tries to tie my hands? But Imbrie always stands beside her with the gun;
+that would simply mean being shot down before Clare&rsquo;s eyes. Shall I let
+them bind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> me and take what comes?&mdash;No! I must put up a fight somehow!
+Suppose I make a break for it as soon as we land? If there happens to be
+cover I may get away with it. Better be shot on the wing than sitting
+down with my hands tied. And if I got clean away, Clare would know there
+was still a chance. I&rsquo;ll make a break for it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the sky, the shining river and the shapely trees. &ldquo;This may
+be my last day on the old ball! Good old world too! You don&rsquo;t think what
+it means until the time comes to say ta-ta to it all; sunny mornings,
+and starry nights, with the double trail of the Milky Way moseying
+across the sky. I&rsquo;ve scarcely tasted life yet&mdash;mustn&rsquo;t think of that!
+Twenty-seven years old, and nothing done! If I could feel that I had
+left something solid behind me it would be easier to go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Pictures of his boyhood in the old Canadian city presented themselves
+unasked; the maple-foliage, incredibly dense and verdant, the shabby,
+comfortable houses behind the trees, and the homely, happy-go-lucky
+people who lived in the houses and sprayed their lawns on summer
+evenings; friendly people, like people everywhere prone to laughter and
+averse to thought. &ldquo;People are so foolish and likeable, it&rsquo;s amazing!&rdquo;
+thought Stonor, visualizing his kind for the first.</p>
+
+<p>The sights and sounds and smells of the old town came thronging back;
+the school-bell with its flat clangour, exactly like no other bell on
+earth&mdash;it rang until five minutes before the hour, stopping with a
+muttering complaint, and you ran the rest of the way. There was the
+Dominion Hotel, with a tar pavement in front that became semi-liquid on
+hot days; no resident of that town ever forgot the pungent smell
+compounded of tar, stale beer, sawdust, and cabbage that greeted you in
+passing. And the candy-store was next door; the butterscotch they sold
+there!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>How he used to get up early on summer mornings and, with his faithful
+mongrel Jack, with the ridiculous curly tail, walk and run a mile to the
+railway-station to see the Transcontinental stop and pass on. How the
+sun shone down the empty streets before any one was up! Strange how his
+whole life seemed to be coloured by the newly-risen sun! And the long
+train with the mysterious, luxurious sleeping-cars, an occasional
+tousled head at the window; lucky head, bound on a long journey!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;ve journeyed some myself since then,&rdquo; thought Stonor, &ldquo;and I
+have a longer journey before me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They spelled at ten o&rsquo;clock, and again at three. &ldquo;The last lap!&rdquo; thought
+Stonor, as they took to the river after the second stop. All depended on
+the spot Imbrie should choose for their next camp. Stonor studied the
+nature of the ground anxiously. The banks continued to rise steep and
+high almost from the water&rsquo;s edge. These slopes for the most part were
+wooded, but a wood on a steep stony slope does not offer good cover.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Small chance of scrambling over the top in such a place without
+stopping a bullet,&rdquo; thought Stonor. &ldquo;If we come to a more favourable
+spot should I suggest camping? No! for Imbrie would be sure to keep on
+out of pure obstinacy. I might have a chance if I zig-zagged up the
+hill. The worst part will be running away from Clare. Suppose she cries
+out or tries to follow. If I could warn her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Imbrie was taking very good care that no communications passed
+between the two to-day.</p>
+
+<p>They came to a place where a limestone ridge made a rapid wilder than
+any they had passed on the upper river, almost a cataract. Much time was
+consumed in dragging the dug-out over the shelves of rock alongside. The
+ridge made a sort of dam in the river; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> above there was a long
+reach, smooth and sluggish. Imbrie ordered Stonor aboard to paddle, and
+the trooper was not sorry for the change of exercise.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was dropping low now, and Stonor little by little gave up hope
+of meeting help that day. In the course of the smooth reach they came
+upon an island, quaintly shaped like a woman&rsquo;s hat, with a stony beach
+all round for a brim, a high green crown, and a clump of pines for an
+aigrette. In its greatest diameter it was less than a hundred feet.</p>
+
+<p>Coming abreast of the island, Imbrie, without saying anything in advance
+of his intention, steered the dug-out so that she grounded on the beach.
+The others looked round at him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll camp here,&rdquo; he said curtly.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor&rsquo;s heart sank. An island! &ldquo;It&rsquo;s early yet,&rdquo; he said, with a
+careless air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The dug-out&rsquo;s leaking,&rdquo; said Imbrie. &ldquo;I want to fix her before dark.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no gum on the island.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have it with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie said this with a meaning grin, and Stonor could not be sure but
+that the man suspected his design of escaping. There was nothing for it
+but to submit for the moment. If they attempted to bind him he would put
+up the best fight he could. If they left him free until dark he might
+still escape by swimming.</p>
+
+<p>They landed. The breed woman, as a matter of course, prepared to do all
+the work, while Imbrie sat down with his pipe and his gun. He ordered
+Stonor to sit near. The policeman obeyed, keeping himself on the <span class="foreign" lang="fr">qui vive</span>
+for the first hostile move. Clare, merely to be doing something,
+put up her own little tent. The breed woman started preparing supper,
+and then, taking everything out of the dug-out, pulled it up on the
+stones, and turning it over applied the gum to the little crack that had
+opened in the bottom.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>They supped as usual, Stonor being guarded by the woman while Imbrie
+ate. Stonor and Clare were kept at a little distance from each other.
+There was nothing that they cared to say to each other within hearing of
+their jailors. Soon afterwards Clare went to her tent. Stonor watched
+her disappear with a gripping pain at his heart, wondering if he would
+ever see her again. &ldquo;She might have looked her good-night,&rdquo; he thought
+resentfully, even while better sense told him she had refrained from
+looking at him only because such indications of an understanding always
+infuriated Imbrie.</p>
+
+<p>The dusk was beginning to gather. Imbrie waited a little while, then
+said carelessly:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tie him up now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman went to get the piece of line she used for the purpose. Stonor
+got warily to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you want to tie me up for?&rdquo; he said, seeking to gain time. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+helpless without weapons. You might let me have one night&rsquo;s comfortable
+sleep. I work hard enough for it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie&rsquo;s suspicions were instantly aroused by this changed attitude of
+Stonor&rsquo;s, who had always before indifferently submitted. He raised the
+gun threateningly. &ldquo;Shut up!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Hold your hands behind you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman was approaching with the line. Stonor moved so as to bring
+himself in a line between Imbrie and the woman. Out of the tail of his
+eye he saw Clare at the door of her tent, anxiously watching. He counted
+on the fact that Imbrie would not shoot while she was looking on without
+strong provocation. They were all down on the stony beach. Stonor kept
+edging closer to the water.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor still sought to parley. &ldquo;What are you afraid of? You&rsquo;re both
+armed. What could I do? And you sleep like cats. I couldn&rsquo;t move hand or
+foot without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> waking you. I can&rsquo;t work all day, and sleep without being
+able to stretch myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>While he talked he man&oelig;uvred to keep himself between Imbrie and the
+woman. Imbrie, to avoid the danger of hitting her, was obliged to keep
+circling round Stonor. Finally Stonor got him between him and the water.
+This was the moment he was waiting for. His muscles were braced like
+steel springs. Plunging at Imbrie, he got under the gun-barrel and bore
+the man back into the river. The gun was discharged harmlessly into the
+air. The beach sloped away sharply, and the force of his rush carried
+them both into three feet of water. They went under. Imbrie dropped his
+gun, and clung to Stonor with the desperate, instinctive grip of the
+non-swimmer. Like a ray of light the thought flashed through Stonor&rsquo;s
+brain: &ldquo;I have him on equal terms now!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As they went under he was aware of the woman rushing into the water
+after him with the knife raised. He twisted his body so that Imbrie came
+uppermost and she was unable to strike. Stonor saw Clare running to the
+water&rsquo;s edge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Get her gun!&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Clare swerved to where it stood leaning against the overturned dug-out.
+The woman turned back, but Clare secured the gun before she was out of
+the water, and dashed into the thick bushes with it. Meanwhile Stonor
+dragged the struggling Imbrie into deeper water. They lost their footing
+and went under again. The woman, after a pause of agonized indecision,
+ran to the dug-out, and, righting it, pushed it into the water.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, striking out as he could, carried his burden out beyond a man&rsquo;s
+depth. The current carried them slowly down. They were as much under the
+water as on top, but Stonor cannily held his breath,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> while Imbrie
+struggled insanely. Stonor, with his knee against the other&rsquo;s chest,
+broke his strangle-hold, and got him turned over on his back. Imbrie&rsquo;s
+struggles began to weaken.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the dug-out was bearing down on them. Stonor waited until it
+came abreast and the woman swung her paddle to strike. Then letting go
+of Imbrie, he sank, and swimming under water, rose to the surface some
+yards distant. He saw that the woman had Imbrie by the hair. In this
+position it was impossible for her to wield her paddle, and the current
+was carrying her down. Stonor turned about and swam blithely back to the
+island.</p>
+
+<p>Clare, still carrying the gun, came out of the bushes to meet him. They
+clasped hands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I knew there was only one bullet,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I was afraid to fire at
+the woman for fear of missing her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You did right,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor found the gun that Imbrie had dropped in the water. From the
+beach they watched to see what the breed woman would do.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When she gets near the rapids she&rsquo;ll either have to let go Imbrie or be
+carried over,&rdquo; Stonor said grimly.</p>
+
+<p>But the woman proved to be not without her resources. Still with one
+hand clutched in Imbrie&rsquo;s hair, she contrived to wriggle out of the
+upper part of her dress. Out of this she made a sling, passing it under
+the unconscious man&rsquo;s arms, and tying it to the thwart of the dug-out.
+She then paddled ashore and dragged the man out on the beach. There they
+saw her stand looking at him helplessly. Save for the dug-out she was
+absolutely empty-handed, without so much as a match to start a fire
+with.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she loaded the inert body in the dug-out, and, getting in
+herself, came paddling back towards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> the island. Stonor grimly awaited
+her, with the gun over his arm. The dusk was thickening, and Clare built
+up the fire.</p>
+
+<p>When she came near, Stonor said, raising the gun: &ldquo;Come no closer till I
+give you leave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She raised her hands. &ldquo;I give up,&rdquo; she said apathetically. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got to
+have fire for him, blankets. Maybe he is dead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s only half-drowned,&rdquo; said Stonor. &ldquo;I can bring him to if you do
+what I tell you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Throw your ammunition-belt ashore, then your knife, and the two knives
+that Imbrie carries in his belt.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She obeyed. Stonor gratefully buckled on the belt. She landed, and
+permitted her hands to be bound. Stonor then pulled the dug-out out on
+the stones, and turning it over rolled Imbrie on the bottom of it until
+he got most of the water out of him. Then, laying him on his back, after
+half an hour&rsquo;s unremitting work, he succeeded in inducing respiration. A
+little colour returned to Imbrie&rsquo;s face, and in the end he opened his
+eyes and looked stupidly around him. At these signs of returning
+animation the enigma of a woman suddenly lowered her head and broke into
+a dry hard sobbing.</p>
+
+<p>So intent were they upon the matter in hand they never thought of
+looking out on the river. It was as dark now as it would be, and anyway
+the glow of the fire blinded them to what lay outside its radius.
+Suddenly out of the murk came with stunning effect a deep-throated hail:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stonor, is that you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The policeman straightened like a man who received an electric shock. A
+great light broke in his face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lambert! Thank God!&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Two clumsy little pot-bellied collapsible boats grounded on the stones
+below their fire and, as it seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> to their confused senses, they were
+immediately surrounded by a whole crowd of friendly faces. Stonor was
+aware, not of one red coat, but of three, and two natives besides. The
+rubicund face of his commanding officer, Major Egerton, &ldquo;Patch-pants&rdquo;
+Egerton, the best-loved man in the North, swam before his eyes. Somehow
+or other he contrived to salute.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have the honour to turn over two prisoners, sir. This man who claims
+to be Doctor Ernest Imbrie, and this woman, name unknown to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good work, Sergeant!&rdquo; Having returned his salute, the little Major
+unbent, and offered Stonor his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is a surprise, sir, to see you,&rdquo; said the latter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had just got to the Crossing on my rounds when your note came to
+Lambert. So I came right on with him.&rdquo; Major Egerton&rsquo;s glance took in
+Stonor&rsquo;s bandaged skull and dripping clothes, the woman&rsquo;s bound hands,
+and Imbrie just returning to consciousness. &ldquo;I judge you&rsquo;ve been having
+a strenuous time,&rdquo; he remarked drily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Somewhat, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall tell me all about it, when we&rsquo;ve settled down a bit. We had
+already camped for the night, when we saw the reflection of your fire,
+and came down to investigate. Introduce me to the lady.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The little Major bowed to Clare in his best style. His face betrayed no
+consciousness of the strangeness of the situation, in that while Dr.
+Imbrie was a prisoner, Mrs. Imbrie was obviously under Stonor&rsquo;s
+protection. He engaged her in conversation about the weather as if they
+had just met at a lawn f&ecirc;te. It was exactly what the shaken Clare
+needed.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Stonor slipped aside to his friends. &ldquo;Lambert!&rdquo; he cried,
+gripping his brother-sergeant&rsquo;s hand, &ldquo;God knows your ugly phiz is a
+beautiful sight to my eyes! I knew I could depend on you! I knew it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>Lambert silently clapped him on the back. He saw from Stonor&rsquo;s face what
+he must have been through.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond Lambert Stonor caught sight of a gleaming smile on a dark face.
+&ldquo;Tole!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;They brought you! How good it is to find one&rsquo;s
+friends!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII
+<span class="subtitle">THE HEARING</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>They moved to a better camping-place on the mainland. Major Egerton
+could rough it as well as any youngster in the service, but as a matter
+of principle he always carried a folding bed, table, and chair in his
+outfit. These simple articles made a great impression on the natives.
+When the Major&rsquo;s tent was pitched, and the table and chair set up
+inside, the effect of a court of justice was immediately created, even
+in the remotest wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning they all gathered in his tent. The Major sat at the table
+with Coulter, his orderly and general factotum, sitting on a box at his
+left with pen and note-book before him. Stonor stood at the Major&rsquo;s
+right. The two prisoners stood facing the table, with Lambert keeping an
+eye on them. Clare sat in the place of honour on the Major&rsquo;s cot against
+the side of the tent. Tole and Ancose squatted on their heels just
+inside the door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll start with the woman,&rdquo; said the Major. Addressing her directly, he
+said sternly: &ldquo;It is my duty to tell you that anything you may say here
+can be used against you later, and it is therefore your privilege to
+refuse to answer. At the same time a refusal to answer naturally
+suggests the fear of incriminating yourself, so think well before you
+refuse. Do you understand me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, you speak good English. That simplifies matters. First, what is
+your name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>&ldquo;Annie Alexander.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Married?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Age?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Forty-four.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hm! You don&rsquo;t look it. What is your relation to the other prisoner
+here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No relation, just a friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah? Where do you come from?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie murmured: &ldquo;Winnipeg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be silent!&rdquo; cried the Major. &ldquo;Sergeant Lambert, take that man out, and
+keep him out of earshot until I call you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was done.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How long have you been in this country?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Since Spring&mdash;May.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you come in?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By way of Caribou Lake and the Crossing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By what means did you travel?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I got passage on a york boat up the rivers, and across Caribou Lake.
+From the lake a freighter took me on his load across the long portage to
+the Crossing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ancose,&rdquo; said the Major, &ldquo;you watch the prisoner outside, and ask
+Sergeant Lambert to step here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile he went on with his questions. &ldquo;How did you travel from the
+Crossing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I built a little raft and floated down the Spirit River to Carcajou
+Point.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lambert came in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lambert,&rdquo; said the Major, &ldquo;this woman claims to have come over the
+portage to the Crossing in May with a freighter and to have built a raft
+there and floated down the river. Can you verify her story?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, never saw her before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>&ldquo;Is it possible for her to have done such a thing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Possible, sir,&rdquo; said Lambert cautiously, &ldquo;but not likely. It&rsquo;s part of
+my business to keep track of all who come and go. There are not enough
+travellers to make that difficult. Such an extraordinary thing as a
+woman travelling alone on a raft would have been the talk of the
+country. If I might ask her a question, sir&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major signed to him to do so.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was the name of the freighter who brought you over the portage?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know his whole name. Men called him Jack.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lambert shrugged. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s many a Jack, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course. Let it go for the present.&rdquo; To the woman he said: &ldquo;What was
+your object in making this long journey alone?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Doctor Imbrie wrote to me to come and live with him. He had nobody to
+take care of his house and all that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see. What do you mean by saying he was your friend?&rdquo; The Major asked
+this with an uneasy glance in Clare&rsquo;s direction.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just my friend,&rdquo; answered the woman, with a hint of defiance. &ldquo;I took
+care of him when he was little.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, his nurse. When did you get the letter from him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In March.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where was it sent from?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fort Enterprise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sergeant Stonor, can you testify as to that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can testify that it is not true, sir. It was a matter of common
+knowledge at the post that Doctor Imbrie neither received nor sent any
+letters. We wondered at it. Furthermore, the only word received from him
+all winter was in January.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>The Major turned to the woman. &ldquo;According to that you are telling an
+untruth about the letter,&rdquo; he said sternly. &ldquo;Do you wish to change your
+statement?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She sullenly shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>The Major shrugged and went on. &ldquo;Was Doctor Imbrie waiting for you at
+Carcajou Point?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why didn&rsquo;t you meet at Fort Enterprise, where there was a good trail to
+Swan River?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t feel like explaining things to the white men there. He likes
+to keep to himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did you go from Carcajou Point?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We bought horses from the Beaver Indians and rode overland to Swan
+Lake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bought horses?&rdquo; said the Major quickly. &ldquo;How did Doctor Imbrie get to
+Carcajou in the first place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She corrected herself. &ldquo;I mean he bought extra horses for me, and for
+the outfit.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you rode to Swan Lake on your way back to his place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you go to his place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, I got sick at Swan Lake and he had to leave me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if you were sick you needed a doctor, didn&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wasn&rsquo;t very sick, I just couldn&rsquo;t travel, that was all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But why did he have to leave you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He had business at his place.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Business? There was no one there but himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman merely shrugged.</p>
+
+<p>Major Egerton waved his hand in Clare&rsquo;s direction. &ldquo;Do you know this
+lady?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir. It&rsquo;s Doctor Imbrie&rsquo;s wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you know that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>&ldquo;I saw them married.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where was that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t answer that at present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major turned to Clare apologetically. &ldquo;Please excuse me if I must
+ask a painful question or two.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare nodded reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why had Doctor Imbrie left his wife?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman&rsquo;s eyes sparkled with resentment. &ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t leave her. She
+left him. She&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That will do!&rdquo; ordered the Major.</p>
+
+<p>But the woman raised her voice. &ldquo;She threw up the fact of his having red
+blood to him&mdash;though she knew it well enough when she married him. He
+was all cut up about it. That was why he came up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major, slightly embarrassed, turned to Stonor. &ldquo;Will you question
+her?&rdquo; he asked testily. &ldquo;You are better informed as to the whole
+circumstances.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I might hear the man&rsquo;s story first, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well. Send for him. What is the charge against the woman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Shooting with intent to kill, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Enter that, Coulter. Whom did she shoot at?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At me, sir. On two occasions.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! An officer in the performance of his duty. Amend the charge,
+Coulter. Please relate the circumstances.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor did so.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you anything to say in regard to that?&rdquo; the Major asked the woman.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Imbrie was again facing the tribunal. At Stonor&rsquo;s request
+the woman was allowed to remain in the tent during his examination.
+After stating the usual formula as to his rights, the Major started
+questioning him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>&ldquo;Ernest Imbrie, M.D.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Age?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Twenty-six.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Place of birth?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Winnipeg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Father&rsquo;s name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John Imbrie.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His occupation?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Farmer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major raised his eyebrows. &ldquo;In Winnipeg?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He lived off the income of his farms.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Strange I never heard the name in Winnipeg. Do you wish to give any
+further information about your antecedents?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not at present, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have Indian blood in your veins?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, my grandmother was an Indian. I never saw her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How long have you been in this district?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A year, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you come here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I got employment with a crew of boatmen at Miwasa Landing. I travelled
+with them as far as Great Buffalo Lake. There I bought a canoe from the
+Indians and came up the Swan River to the Great Falls and built me a
+shack.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You were alone then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did this woman come to join you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I sent for her to keep my house for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you get word to her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie blandly evaded the trap. &ldquo;I sent a letter out privately to be
+passed along by the Indians&mdash;what they call moccasin telegraph.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Why did you choose that method?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because I wished to keep my affairs to myself. I had heard of the
+curiosity of the white men at Fort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> Enterprise concerning my movements,
+and I did not care to gratify it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well. Now, when you started back with her, did she go home with
+you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir. She was taken sick at Swan Lake, and I had to leave her
+there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you come to leave her if she was sick?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was not very sick. Her leg swelled up and she couldn&rsquo;t travel, that
+was all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor signed to the Major that he wished to ask a question, and the
+Major bade him go ahead.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell us exactly what was the matter with her, as a doctor, I mean.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wouldn&rsquo;t understand if I did tell you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major rapped smartly on the table. &ldquo;Impudence will do you no good,
+my man! Answer the Sergeant&rsquo;s question!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I decline to do so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor said: &ldquo;I have established the point I wished to make, sir. He
+can&rsquo;t answer it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Major Egerton proceeded: &ldquo;Well, why didn&rsquo;t you wait for her until she
+got well?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had to make a garden at home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You travelled three hundred miles down the river and back again to make
+a garden!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have to eat through the winter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stonor, was there a garden started at Imbrie&rsquo;s place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, but it had been started weeks before. The potatoes were
+already several inches high.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie said: &ldquo;I planted the potatoes before I left.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, leave the garden for the present.&rdquo; The Major indicated Clare.
+&ldquo;You know this lady?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should hope so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Confine your answers to plain statements, please. Who is she?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>&ldquo;Have you any proof of that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She says so. She ought to know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major addressed Clare. &ldquo;Is it true that you have said you were his
+wife?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot tell you of my own knowledge, sir. Sergeant Stonor has told me
+that before I lost my memory I told him I was Ernest Imbrie&rsquo;s wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major bowed and returned his attention to Imbrie. &ldquo;When and where
+were you married?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I decline to answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The excellent Major, who was not noted for his patience with the
+evil-doer, turned an alarming colour, yet he still sought to reason with
+the man. &ldquo;The answer to that question could not possibly injure you
+under any circumstances.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just the same, I decline to answer. You said it was my right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With no little difficulty the Major still held himself in. &ldquo;I am
+asking,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for information which will enable me to return this
+lady to her friends until her memory is restored.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I decline to give it,&rdquo; said Imbrie hardily. His face expressed a
+pleased vanity in being able, as he thought, to wield the whip-hand over
+the red-coats.</p>
+
+<p>The little Major exploded. &ldquo;You damned scoundrel!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like
+to wring your neck!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put that down, please,&rdquo; Imbrie said to the clerk with ineffable
+conceit.</p>
+
+<p>The Major put his hands behind his back and stamped up and down the four
+paces that comprised the length of his tent. &ldquo;Stonor, I wonder&mdash;I wonder
+that you took the patience to bring him to last night!&rdquo; he stammered.
+&ldquo;Go on and question him if you want. I haven&rsquo;t the patience.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well, sir. Imbrie, when I was taking you and this lady back to
+Fort Enterprise, why did you carry her off?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>&ldquo;She was my wife. I wanted her. Anything strange in that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No. But when we came to you at your place, why did you run away from
+us?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hadn&rsquo;t had a good look at her then. I thought it best to keep out of
+the way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why weren&rsquo;t you willing to come to the post and let the whole thing be
+explained?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie&rsquo;s face suddenly turned dark with rage. He burst out, scarcely
+coherently: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you that! And you can all digest it! A fat chance
+I&rsquo;d have had among you! A fat chance I have now of getting a fair
+hearing! If she came all this way to find me, it&rsquo;s clear she wanted to
+make up, isn&rsquo;t it? Yet when she saw me, she turned away. She&rsquo;d been
+travelling with you too long. You&rsquo;d put your spell on her. You said
+she&rsquo;d lost her memory. Bunk! Looks more like hypnotism to me. You wanted
+her for yourself. That&rsquo;s the whole explanation of this case. You&rsquo;ve got
+nothing on me. You only want to railroad me so that the way will be
+clear for you with her. Why, when I was bound up they made love to each
+other before my very face. Isn&rsquo;t that true?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not under examination just now,&rdquo; said Stonor coldly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Answer me as a man, isn&rsquo;t it true?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, it&rsquo;s a damned lie!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if it had been me, I would!&rdquo; cried the little Major.</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant Lambert concealed a large smile behind his large hand.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, outwardly unmoved, said: &ldquo;May I ask the woman one more question,
+sir, before I lay a charge against the man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor addressed the woman. &ldquo;You say you are unmarried?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you doing with a wedding-ring?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s my mother&rsquo;s ring. She gave it to me when she died.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tole,&rdquo; said Stonor, &ldquo;take that ring off and hand it to me.&rdquo; To the
+Major he added in explanation: &ldquo;Wedding-rings usually have the initials
+of the contracting parties and the date.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The ring was removed and handed to Stonor.</p>
+
+<p>Examining it he said: &ldquo;There is an inscription here, sir. It is: &lsquo;J.I.
+to A.A., March 3rd, 1886.&rsquo; It stands to reason this woman&rsquo;s mother was
+married long before 1886.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was married twice,&rdquo; muttered the woman.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you make of it, Sergeant?&rdquo; asked the Major.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John Imbrie to Annie Alexander.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then you suspect&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That this woman is the man&rsquo;s mother, sir. It first occurred to me last
+night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By George! there is a certain likeness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All those in the tent stared at the two prisoners in astonishment. The
+couple bore it with sullen inscrutability.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am now ready to make a charge against the man, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Major sat down. &ldquo;What is the charge?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murder.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imbrie must have had this possibility in mind, for his face never
+changed a muscle. The woman, however, was frankly taken by surprise. She
+flung up her manacled hands involuntarily; a sharp cry escaped her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a lie!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>&ldquo;Whom did he murder?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A man unknown to me, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where was the deed committed?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At or near the shack above the Great Falls.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman&rsquo;s inscrutability was gone. She watched Stonor and waited for
+his evidence in an agony of apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you find the body?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Under what circumstances?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It had been thrown in the rapids, sir, in the expectation that it would
+be carried over the falls. Instead, however, it lodged in a log-jam
+above the falls. As I was walking along the shore I saw a foot sticking
+out of the water. I brought the body ashore&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You brought the body ashore&mdash;out of the rapids above the falls&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir. A woman I had with me, Mary Moosa, helped me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Describe the victim.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A young man, sir, that is to say, under thirty. In stature about the
+same as the prisoner, and of the same complexion. What remained of his
+clothes suggested a man of refinement.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But his face?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was unrecognizable, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A dreadful low cry broke from the half-breed woman. Her manacled hands
+went to her face, her body rocked forward from the waist.</p>
+
+<p>The man rapped out a command to her in the Indian tongue to get a grip
+on herself. She tried to obey, straightening up, and taking down her
+hands. Her face showed a ghastly yellow pallor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What proof have you of murder?&rdquo; asked the Major.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>&ldquo;There was no water in the dead man&rsquo;s lungs, sir, showing that he was
+dead before his body entered the water. There was a bullet-hole through
+his heart. I found the bullet itself lodged in the front of his spine.
+It was thirty-eight calibre, a revolver bullet. This man carried a
+thirty-eight revolver. I took it from him. I sent revolver and bullet
+out by Tole Grampierre.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lambert spoke up: &ldquo;They are in my possession, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The breed woman seemed about to collapse. Imbrie, who had given no sign
+of being affected by Stonor&rsquo;s recital, now said with a more conciliatory
+air than he had yet shown:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you please, sir, she is overcome by the trooper&rsquo;s horrible story.
+Will you let her go outside for a moment to recover herself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said the good-natured Major, &ldquo;watch her, Lambert.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the woman passed him Imbrie whispered to her in the Indian tongue:
+&ldquo;Throw your locket in the river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, on the alert for a trick of some kind, overheard. &ldquo;No, you
+don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he said, stepping forward.</p>
+
+<p>The woman made a sudden dive for the door, but Lambert seized her. She
+struggled like a mad thing, but the tall sergeant&rsquo;s arms closed around
+her like a vice. Meanwhile Stonor essayed to unclasp the chain around
+her neck. The two breeds guarded Imbrie to keep him from interfering.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor got the locket off at last, and opened it with his thumb nail.
+The woman suddenly ceased to struggle, and sagged in Lambert&rsquo;s arms. An
+exclamation escaped from Stonor, and he glanced sharply into Imbrie&rsquo;s
+face. Within the locket on one side was a tinted photograph of the heads
+of two little boys, oddly alike. On the other side was an inscription in
+the neat Spen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>cerian characters of twenty years before: &ldquo;Ernest and
+William Imbrie,&rdquo;&mdash;and a date.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor handed the locket over to the Major without speaking. &ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; cried
+the latter. &ldquo;So that is the explanation. There were two of them!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII
+<span class="subtitle">A LETTER FROM MAJOR EGERTON TO HIS FRIEND ARTHUR DONCOURT, ESQ.</span></h2>
+
+
+<p class="salu">MY DEAR DONCOURT:</p>
+
+<p>You ask me to tell you some of the circumstances underlying the Imbrie
+murder case of which you have read the account in the annual report of
+the R.N.W.M.P. just published. You are right in supposing that a strange
+and moving tale is hidden behind the cold and formal phraseology of the
+report.</p>
+
+<p>The first Imbrie was the Reverend Ernest, who went as a missionary to
+the Sikannis Indians away back in &rsquo;79. Up to that time these Indians
+were absolutely uncivilized, and bore a reputation for savage cruelty. I
+suppose that was what stimulated the good man&rsquo;s zeal. He left a saintly
+tradition behind him. The Sikannis live away up the corner of British
+Columbia, on the <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;headwaters&rdquo;'>head-waters</ins> of the Stanley River, one
+of the main branches of the Spirit River. The Spirit River, as you may
+know, rises west of the Rocky Mountains and breaks through. There is not
+a more remote spot this side the Arctic Circle, nor one more difficult
+of access.</p>
+
+<p>The missionary brought with him his son, John Imbrie, a boy just
+approaching manhood. Very likely the danger of bringing up a boy
+absolutely cut off from the women of his race never occurred to the
+father. The inevitable happened. The boy fell in love with a handsome
+half-breed girl, the daughter of a wandering prospector and a Sikanni
+squaw, and mar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>ried her out of hand. The heartbroken father was himself
+compelled to perform the ceremony. This was in 1886.</p>
+
+<p>The Imbries were so far cut off from their kind that in time they were
+forgotten. The missionary supported himself by farming in a small way
+and trading his surplus products with the Indians. John turned out to be
+a good farmer and they prospered. Their farm was the last outpost of
+agriculture in that direction. From the time he went in with his father
+John did not see the outside world again until 1889, when he took his
+wife and babies out, with a vain hope, I think, of trying to educate the
+woman. Most of these marriages have tragic results, and this was no
+exception. During all the years in her husband&rsquo;s house this woman
+resisted every civilizing influence, except that she learned to deck
+herself out like a white woman.</p>
+
+<p>She bore her husband twin sons, who were christened Ernest and William.
+They bore a strong resemblance to each other, but as they began to
+develop it appeared, as is so often the case in these mixed families,
+that Ernest had a white man&rsquo;s nature, and William a red man&rsquo;s. When the
+time came they were sent out to Winnipeg to school, but William, true to
+the savage nature, sickened in civilised surroundings, and had to be
+sent home. On the other hand, Ernest proved to be a sufficiently apt
+scholar, and went on through school and college. During the whole period
+between his thirteenth and his twenty-fourth year he was only home two
+or three times. William remained at home and grew up in ignorance. John
+Imbrie, the father, I gather, was a worthy man, but somewhat weak in his
+family relations.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest went on to a medical college with the idea of practising among
+the Sikannis, who had no doctor. During his second year his father died,
+long before he could reach him, of course. He remained outside until<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> he
+got his diploma. Meanwhile his mother and brother quickly relapsed into
+a state of savagery. They &ldquo;pitched around&rdquo; with the Indians, and the
+farm which had been so painstakingly hewn out of the wilderness by the
+two preceding generations grew up in weeds.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest had a painful homecoming, I expect. However, he patiently set to
+work to restore his father&rsquo;s work. He managed to persuade his mother and
+brother to return and live in white man&rsquo;s fashion, but they made his
+life a hell for him, according to all accounts. They were insanely
+jealous of his superior attainments. Neither did the Sikannis welcome
+Doctor Ernest&rsquo;s ministrations. Since the death of the missionary they
+had been gradually slipping back into their ignorant ways, and now they
+instinctively took the part of the mother against the educated son. One
+can imagine what a dreary life the young medico lived among these
+savages. He has been described to me as a charming fellow, modest,
+kindly and plucky. And, by the way, I have not mentioned that these
+young fellows were uncommonly good-looking. William, or, as the Indians
+say, Hooliam, was one of the handsomest natives I ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile that remote country was being talked about outside on account
+of the gold deposits along the upper reaches of the Stanley&mdash;largely
+mythically I believe. However that may be, prospectors began to straggle
+in, and in the summer of the year following Ernest&rsquo;s return from
+college, the government sent in a surveyor, one Frank Starling, to
+survey the claims, and adjust disputes. Starling brought with him his
+daughter Clare, a young lady of adventurous disposition.</p>
+
+<p>Both the Imbrie boys fell in love with her according to their natures,
+thus further complicating the situation. Hooliam, the ignorant savage,
+could not aspire to her hand, of course, but the young doctor courted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
+her, and she looked kindly on him. I do not consider that she was ever
+in love with him, though apart from the dark strain he was worthy of it
+as men go, a manly fellow!&mdash;but it was the hardness of his lot that
+touched her heart. Like many a good woman before her, she was carried
+away by compassion for the dogged youth struggling against such hopeless
+odds.</p>
+
+<p>The father completed his work and took her out, and Ernest Imbrie
+followed them. They were married in the early spring at Fort Edward on
+the Campbell River, where the Starlings wintered. Ernest carried his
+bride back by canoe, hundreds of miles through the wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>Their happiness, if indeed they were ever happy, was of brief duration.
+Whichever way you look at it, the situation was impossible. Ernest&rsquo;s
+mother, the breed woman, acted like a fiend incarnate, I have been told,
+and I can quite believe it, having witnessed some of her subsequent
+performances. Then there was the brother-in-law always hanging around
+the house, nursing his evil passion for his brother&rsquo;s wife. And in the
+background the ignorant, unfriendly Indians.</p>
+
+<p>The catastrophe was precipitated by a gross insult offered to the girl
+by her husband&rsquo;s brother. He broke into her room one night impudently
+assuming to masquerade as her husband. Her husband saved her from him,
+but in the shock to her nerves she experienced a revulsion against the
+lot of them&mdash;and small wonder!</p>
+
+<p>Her husband of his own free will took her back to her father. That&rsquo;s one
+of the finest things in the story, for there&rsquo;s no question but that he
+loved her desperately. The loss of her broke his spirit, which had
+endured so much. He never went back home. He felt, poor fellow, as if he
+were cast out alike by reds and whites, and his instinct was to find a
+place where he could bury himself far from all humankind.</p>
+
+<p>He was next heard of at Miwasa landing a thousand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> miles away, across
+the mountains. Here he got employment with a york boat crew and
+travelled with them <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;downstream&rdquo;'>down-stream</ins> some hundreds of miles
+north to Great Buffalo Lake. Here he obtained a canoe from the Indians,
+and, with a small store of grub, set off on his own. He made his way up
+the Swan River, an unexplored stream emptying into Great Buffalo Lake,
+as far as the Great Falls, and there he built himself a shack.</p>
+
+<p>He could hardly have found a spot better suited to his purpose. No white
+man so far as known had ever visited those falls, and even the Indians
+avoid the neighbourhood for superstitious reasons. But even here he
+could not quite cut himself off from his kind. An epidemic of measles
+broke out among the Kakisa Indians up the river from him, and out of
+pure humanity he went among them and cured them. These Indians were
+grateful, strange to say; they almost deified the white man who had
+appeared so strangely in their country.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the wrong she had done him began to prey on his wife&rsquo;s mind.
+She could not rest under the thought that she had wrecked his
+usefulness. Ernest Imbrie had, with the idea of keeping his mind from
+rusting out in solitude, ordered certain papers and books sent to him at
+Fort Enterprise. His wife learned of this address through his medical
+college, and in the spring of the year following her marriage, that is
+to say the spring of the year just past, she set off in search of him
+without saying anything to anybody of her intention.</p>
+
+<p>She and her father were still at Fort Edward&mdash;have I said that the girl
+had no mother?&mdash;and Hooliam Imbrie had been there, too, during the
+winter, not daring to approach the girl precisely, but just hanging
+around the neighbourhood. One can&rsquo;t help feeling for the poor wretch,
+bad as he was, he was hard-hit, too.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> He bribed a native servant to show
+him the letter giving his brother&rsquo;s address, and when the girl set off,
+he instantly guessed her errand, and determined to prevent their
+meeting.</p>
+
+<p>Now it is only a short distance from Fort Edward over the height of land
+to the source of the main southerly branch of the Spirit, and Hooliam
+was therefore able to proceed direct to Fort Enterprise by canoe (a
+journey of more than a thousand miles), pausing only to go up the
+Stanley to pick up his mother, who was ripe for such an adventure. At
+Carcajou Point, when they had almost reached Enterprise, they heard the
+legend of the White Medicine Man off on the unknown Swan River, and they
+decided to avoid Enterprise and hit straight across the prairie.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the girl was obliged to make a long detour south to the
+railway, then across the mountains and north again by all sorts of
+conveyances, with many delays. So Hooliam and his mother arrived a few
+weeks before her, but they in turn were delayed at Swan Lake by the
+woman&rsquo;s illness.</p>
+
+<p>You have read a transcript of the statements of this precious pair at
+the hearing before me. Read it again, and observe the ingenious web of
+truth and falsehood. For instance, it was true the woman fell sick at
+Swan Lake, and Hooliam after waiting awhile for her, finally went down
+the river without her&mdash;only a few days in advance of Sergeant Stonor and
+Ernest Imbrie&rsquo;s wife. As soon as Hooliam reached Swan Lake he began to
+meet Indians who had seen his brother, and thereafter he was always
+hailed among them as the White Medicine Man. The Indians never troubled
+to explain to themselves how he had got to Swan Lake, because they
+ascribed magical powers to him anyway.</p>
+
+<p>What happened between the brothers when they met will never be known for
+certain. Hooliam swears that he did not intend to kill Ernest, but that
+the deed was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> done in self-defence during a quarrel. However that may
+be, Ernest was shot through the heart with a bullet from Hooliam&rsquo;s gun,
+and his body cast in the river.</p>
+
+<p>You have read the rest of the story; how Stonor arrived with Ernest&rsquo;s
+wife, and how, at the shock of beholding her husband&rsquo;s body, the poor
+girl lost her memory. How Hooliam sought to escape up-stream, and
+Stonor&rsquo;s confusion when he was told by an Indian that the White Medicine
+Man was still alive. How Hooliam kidnapped the girl from Stonor, and
+tried to win back to the mountains and his own country by way of the
+unexplored river.</p>
+
+<p>We established the fact that Hooliam did not tell his mother what had
+happened at the Great Falls. She thought that Hooliam had found Ernest
+gone still further north. You can see at the hearing how when Stonor
+first told of the murder, in her horror at the discovery that one
+brother had killed the other the truth finally came out. Though she had
+always taken Hooliam&rsquo;s part she could not altogether deny her feeling
+for the other son.</p>
+
+<p>Well, that&rsquo;s about all. I consider that they got off easily; Hooliam
+with twenty years, and the woman with half that sentence; but in the
+man&rsquo;s case it was impossible to prove that the murder was a deliberate
+one, and though the woman certainly did her best to put Stonor out of
+the way, as it happened he escaped.</p>
+
+<p>You ask about the Indian woman, Mary Moosa, who served Stonor and Mrs.
+Imbrie so faithfully. We overtook her at Swan Lake on the way out. So
+she did not starve to death on the river, but recovered from her wound.</p>
+
+<p>When we got out as far as Caribou Lake we met Mrs. Imbrie&rsquo;s distracted
+father coming in search of her. The meeting between them was very
+affecting. I am happy to say that the young lady has since re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>covered
+her memory entirely, and at the last account was very well.</p>
+
+<p>You are curious to know what kind of fellow Stonor is. I can only
+answer, an ornament to the service. Simple, manly and dependable as a
+trooper ought to be. With a splendid strong body and a good wit. Out of
+such as he the glorious tradition of our force was built. They are
+becoming more difficult to get, I am sorry to say. I had long had my eye
+on him, and this affair settled it. I have recommended him for a
+commission. He is a man of good birth and education. Moreover I saw that
+if we didn&rsquo;t commission him we&rsquo;d lose him; for he wants to get married.
+As a result of the terrible trials they faced together he and Ernest
+Imbrie&rsquo;s widow have conceived a deep affection for each other. Enlisted
+men are not allowed to marry. They make a fine pair, Doncourt. It makes
+an old fellow sort of happy and weepy to see them together.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor is now at the Officers&rsquo; School at General Headquarters, and if he
+passes his examinations will be commissioned in the summer.</p>
+
+<p>We&rsquo;ll talk further about this interesting case when good fortune brings
+us together again. In the meantime, my dear Doncourt,</p>
+
+<p class="quotsig">Yours faithfully,<br>
+<span class="saluname">Frank Egerton</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE</h2>
+
+
+<p>In a bare and spotless company-room in headquarters in Regina eight
+uneasy troopers in fatigue uniform were waiting. Down one side of the
+room a row of tall windows looked out on the brown parade-ground, and
+beyond the buildings on the other side they could see a long
+Transcontinental train slowly gathering way up the westward grade.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hey, boys!&rdquo; cried one. &ldquo;How&rsquo;d you like to be aboard her with your
+shoulder-straps and spurs?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They cast unfriendly glances at the speaker and snorted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t try to be an ass, Carter,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t require the
+effort.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They evinced their nervousness in characteristic ways. Several were
+polishing bits of brass already dazzling; one sat voraciously chewing
+gum and staring into vacancy; one paced up and down like a caged animal;
+another tried to pick a quarrel with his mates, and the eighth, Sergeant
+Stonor&mdash;the hero of Swan River they called him when they wished to annoy
+him&mdash;sat in a corner writing a letter.</p>
+
+<p>To the eight entered a hardened sergeant-major, purpled-jowled and
+soldierly. All eight pairs of eyes sprang to his face in a kind of agony
+of suspense. He twirled his moustache and a wicked, dancing light
+appeared in his little blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a nice set of duffers!&rdquo; he rasped. &ldquo;Blockheads all eight of you.
+Why they ever sent you down beats me. I&rsquo;ve seen some rum lots, but never
+your equal. Flunked, every man of you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>The eight pairs of eyes were cast down. Nobody said anything. Each was
+thinking: &ldquo;So that dream is over. I mustn&rsquo;t let anything on before the
+others&rdquo;: those who were polishing brass gave an extra twirl to the
+chamois.</p>
+
+<p>Stonor, suddenly suspicious, narrowly searched the sergeant-major&rsquo;s
+face. &ldquo;Fellows, he&rsquo;s joshing!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t possible that every
+one of us has flunked! It isn&rsquo;t reasonable!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant-major roared with laughter. &ldquo;Wonderful penetration,
+Sherlock! When I saw your faces I couldn&rsquo;t help it. You were asking for
+it. All passed! That&rsquo;s straight. Congrats!&rdquo; He passed on down the
+corridor.</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence in the company-room. They looked shyly at each other
+to see how the news was being taken. Each felt a sudden warmth of heart
+towards all his mates. All of them displayed an elaborate and perfectly
+transparent assumption of indifference. Stonor added a postscript to his
+letter, and sedately folded it.</p>
+
+<p>Then speech came, at first softly. &ldquo;Damn old Huggins, anyway. Almost
+gave me heart-failure!&hellip; Wot t&rsquo;hell, Bill! Poor old Hugs, it was his
+last chance. Sure, we&rsquo;ll have him where we want him now.&hellip; Think of
+being able to call Hugs down!&hellip; Lordy, Lordy, am I awake!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the unnatural tension broke, and a long-limbed trooper jumped
+to his feet with his arms in the air. &ldquo;Boys! Are you dumb! We&rsquo;ve passed!
+We&rsquo;ve got the straps! All together now, Mumbo-Jumbo!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They marched around the room with their hands on each other&rsquo;s shoulders,
+singing:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="linequo">&ldquo;For I&rsquo;ve got rings on my fingers<br></span>
+<span class="line">And bells on my toes;<br></span>
+<span class="line">Elephants to ride upon&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<br></span></div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>In a little house in Vancouver, embowered in such greenery as only the
+mild, moist airs of Puget Sound can produce, a young woman sat in her
+drawing-room regarding a letter she had just read with a highly
+dissatisfied air. It was a pretty little room, not rich nor fussy, but
+expressing the charm of an individual woman no less than the clothes she
+wore.</p>
+
+<p>To the mistress entered the maid, to wit, a matronly Indian woman with
+an intelligent face. She looked from her mistress&rsquo; face to the letter,
+and back to her mistress again. When the latter made no offer to speak
+she said, for she was a privileged person:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You hear from Stonor?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He not pass his &rsquo;xamination, I guess?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly he has passed!&rdquo; said Clare sharply. &ldquo;If anybody can pass
+their examinations he can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why you look so sorry then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh&mdash;nothing. I didn&rsquo;t expect him to write it. A five-word postscript at
+the end of a matter-of-fact letter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe he couldn&rsquo;t get leave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He said he&rsquo;d get leave if he passed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe he comin&rsquo; anyhow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He never says a word about coming.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You ask him to come?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course not!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you want him come?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know whether I do or not.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary looked perplexed.</p>
+
+<p>Clare burst out, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t ask him. He&rsquo;d feel obliged to come. A man&mdash;man
+like that anyway, would feel after what we&rsquo;ve been through together that
+I had a claim on him. Well, I don&rsquo;t want him to come out of a sense of
+duty. Don&rsquo;t you understand?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary shook her head. &ldquo;If I want something I ask for it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not so simple as all that!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe he think he not wanted here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A man&rsquo;s supposed to take that chance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Awful long way to come on a chance,&rdquo; said Mary. &ldquo;Maybe I write to him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clare jumped up. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you dare!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;If I thought for a
+moment&mdash;if I thought he had been <em>brought</em>, I should be perfectly
+hateful to him. I couldn&rsquo;t help myself&mdash;Is that a motor at the gate?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Miss, a taxi-cab.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stopping here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Miss,&rdquo;&mdash;with absolute calm: &ldquo;Stonor is gettin&rsquo; out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&mdash;Oh, Mary!&mdash;It can&rsquo;t be!&mdash;It is!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A bell rang.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mary! What shall I do? Don&rsquo;t go to the door! Let him wait a minute.
+Let me think what I must do. Let me get upstairs!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">Stonor got up and sat down, and got up again. He walked to the window
+and back to the door. He listened for sounds in the house, and then went
+back to his chair again. He heard a sound overhead and sprang to the
+door once more. He saw her on the stairs, and retreated back into the
+room. She came down with maddening deliberation, step by step. She did
+not look through the door, but paused a second to straighten a picture
+that <ins class="correction" title='Original reads: &ldquo;hunk&rdquo;'>hung</ins> askew on the wall. Stonor&rsquo;s heart was beating like
+a trip-hammer.</p>
+
+<p>She came into the room smiling in friendly fashion with a little gush of
+speech&mdash;but her eyes did not quite meet his.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Martin! Congratulations! I just got your letter this morning. I
+didn&rsquo;t expect you to follow so soon. So it&rsquo;s Inspector Stonor now, eh?
+Very becoming uniform, sir! Was the examination difficult? You must tell
+me all about it. I suppose you are just off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> the train. What kind of a
+trip did you have? Sit down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was a little flabbergasted by her easy flow of speech. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want
+to sit down,&rdquo; he muttered huskily. He was staring at her from a white
+face.</p>
+
+<p>She sat; glanced out of the window, glanced here and there about the
+room, and rattled on: &ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t we got a jolly little place here? But I
+expect we&rsquo;ll be ordered on directly. Mary and I were talking about you
+the moment you rang the bell. Mary is so good to me, but her heart is
+already turning to Fort Enterprise and her children, I&rsquo;m afraid.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He found his tongue at last. &ldquo;Clare, don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he cried brokenly. &ldquo;I
+didn&rsquo;t come eight hundred miles to hear you make parlour conversation.
+What&rsquo;s the matter? What have I done? If you&rsquo;ve changed towards me tell
+me so plainly, and let me get out. I can&rsquo;t stand this!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Panic seized her. &ldquo;I must see about lunch. Excuse me just a moment,&rdquo; she
+said, making for the door.</p>
+
+<p>He caught her as she tried to pass. &ldquo;Damn lunch! Look me in the eye,
+woman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She relaxed. Her eyes crept imploringly up to his. &ldquo;Bear!&rdquo; she
+whispered. &ldquo;You might at least have given me a moment&rsquo;s respite!&mdash;Oh, I
+love you! I love you! I love you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p id="endline">THE END</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Woman from Outside, by Hulbert Footner
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE ***
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+</body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,10319 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman from Outside, by Hulbert Footner
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Woman from Outside
+       [on Swan River]
+
+Author: Hulbert Footner
+
+Release Date: June 22, 2008 [EBook #25875]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Scott Olson, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: Obvious errors in the text have been corrected.
+Changes have also been made to make spelling, hyphenation, and
+punctuation use consistent. A full list of changes is at the end of the
+text.]
+
+
+
+
+  THE WOMAN
+  _from_ "OUTSIDE"
+  [On Swan River]
+
+  By
+  HULBERT FOOTNER
+  Author of "The Fur Bringers" etc.
+
+
+  THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY
+  _Publishers_     _New York_
+
+
+  Copyright, 1921 by
+  THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY
+  All Rights Reserved
+
+
+  PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                             PAGE
+
+      I THE WHITE MEDICINE MAN                                         1
+     II HOOLIAM                                                       15
+    III THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR                                        24
+     IV MORE ABOUT CLARE                                              35
+      V THE FIRST STAGE                                               46
+     VI THE KAKISAS                                                   59
+    VII ON THE RIVER                                                  68
+   VIII THE LOG SHACK                                                 83
+     IX THE FOOT                                                      96
+      X THE START HOME                                               111
+     XI THE MYSTERY                                                  129
+    XII IMBRIE                                                       139
+   XIII THE RESCUE                                                   154
+    XIV PURSUIT                                                      172
+     XV UPS AND DOWNS                                                192
+    XVI THE LAST STAGE ON SWAN RIVER                                 212
+   XVII THE HEARING                                                  243
+  XVIII A LETTER FROM MAJOR EGERTON TO HIS FRIEND ARTHUR
+        DONCOURT, ESQ.                                               256
+        EPILOGUE                                                     264
+
+
+
+
+THE WOMAN FROM OUTSIDE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE WHITE MEDICINE MAN
+
+
+On a January afternoon, as darkness was beginning to gather, the "gang"
+sat around the stove in the Company store at Fort Enterprise discussing
+that inexhaustible question, the probable arrival of the mail. The big
+lofty store, with its glass front, its electric lights, its stock of
+expensive goods set forth on varnished shelves, suggested a city
+emporium rather than the Company's most north-westerly post, nearly a
+thousand miles from civilization; but human energy accomplishes seeming
+miracles in the North as elsewhere, and John Gaviller the trader was
+above all an energetic man. Throughout the entire North they point with
+pride to Gaviller's flour mill, his big steamboat, his great yellow
+clap-boarded house--two storeys and attic, and a fence of palings around
+it! Why, at Fort Enterprise they even have a sidewalk, the only one
+north of fifty-five!
+
+"I don't see why Hairy Ben can't come down," said Doc Giddings--Doc was
+the grouch of the post--"the ice on the river has been fit for
+travelling for a month now."
+
+"Ben can't start from the Crossing until the mail comes through from
+the Landing," said Gaviller. "It can't start from the Landing until the
+ice is secure on the Big River, the Little River, and across Caribou
+Lake." Gaviller was a handsome man of middle life, who took exceeding
+good care of himself, and ruled his principality with an amiable
+relentlessness. They called him the "Czar," and it did not displease
+him.
+
+"Everybody knows Caribou Lake freezes over first," grumbled the doctor.
+
+"But the rivers down there are swift, and it's six hundred miles south
+of here. Give them time."
+
+"The trouble is, they wait until the horse-road is made over the ice
+before starting the mail in. If the Government had the enterprise of a
+ground-hog they'd send in dogs ahead."
+
+"Nobody uses dogs down there any more."
+
+"Well, I say 'tain't right to ask human beings to wait three months for
+their mail. Who knows what may have happened since the freeze-up last
+October?"
+
+"What's happened has happened," said Father Goussard mildly, "and
+knowing about it can't change it."
+
+The doctor ignored the proffered consolation. "What we need is a new
+mail-man," he went on bitterly. "I know Hairy Ben! I'll bet he's had the
+mail at the Crossing for a week, and puts off starting every day for
+fear of snow."
+
+"Well, 'tain't a job as I'd envy any man," put in Captain Stinson of the
+steamboat _Spirit River_, now hauled out on the shore. "Breaking a road
+for three hundred and fifty mile, and not a stopping-house the whole way
+till he gets to the Beaver Indians at Carcajou Point."
+
+The doctor addressed himself to the policeman, who was mending a
+snowshoe in the background. "Stonor, you've got the best dogs in the
+post; why don't you go up after him?"
+
+The young sergeant raised his head with a grin. He was a good-looking,
+long-limbed youth with a notable blue eye, and a glance of mirthful
+sobriety. "No, thanks," he drawled. The others gathered from his tone
+that a joke was coming, and pricked up their ears accordingly. "No,
+thanks. You forget that Sarge Lambert up at the Crossing is my senior.
+When I drove up he'd say: 'What the hell are you doing up here?' And
+when I told him he'd come back with his well-known embellishments of
+language: 'Has the R.N.W.M.P. nothing better to do than tote Doc
+Giddings' love-letters?'"
+
+A great laugh greeted this sally: they are so grateful for the smallest
+of jokes on winter afternoons up North.
+
+Doc Giddings subsided, but the discussion went on without him.
+
+"Well, he'll have easy going in from Carcajou; the Indians coming in and
+out have beaten a good trail."
+
+"Oh, when he gets to Carcajou he's here."
+
+"If it don't snow. That bit over the prairie drifts badly."
+
+"The barometer's falling."
+
+And so on. And so on. They made the small change of conversation go far.
+
+In the midst of it they were electrified by a shout from the land trail
+and the sound of bells.
+
+"Here he is!" they cried, jumping up to a man, and making for the door.
+
+Ben Causton, conscious of his importance, made a dramatic entrance with
+the mail-bags over his shoulder, and cast them magnificently on the
+counter. Even up north, where every man cultivates his own peculiarities
+unhindered, Ben was considered a "character." He was a short, thick man
+of enormous physical strength, and he sported a beard like a quickset
+hedge, hence his nickname. He was clad in an entire suit of fur like an
+Eskimo, with a gaudy red worsted sash about his ample middle.
+
+"Hello, Ben! Gee! but you're slow!"
+
+"Hello, fellows! Keep your hair on! If you want to send out for
+catalogues in the middle of winter you're lucky if I get here at all.
+Next month, if the second class bag's as heavy as this, I'll drop it
+through an air-hole--I swear I will! So now you're warned! I got somepin
+better to do than tote catalogues. When I die and go to hell, I only
+hope I meet the man who invented mail-order catalogues there, that's
+all."
+
+"You're getting feeble, Ben!"
+
+"I got strength enough left to put your head in chancery!"
+
+"What's the news of the world, Ben?"
+
+"Sarge Lambert's got a bone felon. Ally Stiff lost a sow and a whole
+litter through the ice up there. Mahooly of the French outfit at the
+Settlement's gone out to get him a set of chiny teeth. Says he's going
+to get blue ones to dazzle the Indians. Oh, and I almost forgot; down at
+Ottawa the Grits are out and the Tories in."
+
+"Bully!"
+
+"God help Canada!"
+
+While Gaviller unlocked the bags, Ben went out to tie up his dogs and
+feed them. The trader handed out letters to the eager, extended hands,
+that trembled a little. Brightening eyes pounced on the superscriptions.
+Gaviller himself had a daughter outside being "finished," the apple of
+his eye: Captain Stinson had a wife, and Mathews the engineer, an
+elderly sweetheart. The dark-skinned Gordon Strange, Gaviller's clerk,
+carried on an extensive correspondence, the purport of which was unknown
+to the others, and Father Goussard was happy in the receipt of many
+letters from his confreres. Even young Stonor was excited, who had no
+one in the world to write to him but a married sister who sent him
+long, dutiful chronicles of small beer. But it was from "home."
+
+The second-class bag with the papers was scarcely less exciting. To
+oblige Ben they only took one newspaper between them, and passed it
+around, but in this mail three months' numbers had accumulated. As the
+contents of the bag cascaded out on the counter, Stonor picked up an
+unfamiliar-looking magazine.
+
+"Hello, what's this?" he cried, reading the label in surprise. "Doctor
+Ernest Imbrie. Who the deuce is he?"
+
+"Must have come here by mistake," said Gaviller.
+
+"Not a bit of it! Here's the whole story: Doctor Ernest Imbrie, Fort
+Enterprise, Spirit River, Athabasca."
+
+It passed around from hand to hand. A new name was something to catch
+the attention at Fort Enterprise.
+
+"Why, here's another!" cried Gaviller in excitement. "And another! Blest
+if half the bag isn't for him! And all addressed just so!"
+
+They looked at each other a little blankly. All this evidence had the
+effect of creating an apparition there in their midst. There was an
+appreciable silence.
+
+"Must be somebody who started in last year and never got through," said
+Mathews. He spoke with an air of relief at discovering so reasonable an
+explanation.
+
+"But we hear about everybody who comes north of the Landing," objected
+Gaviller. "I would have been advised if he had a credit here."
+
+"Another doctor!" said Doc Giddings bitterly. "If he expects to share my
+practice he's welcome!"
+
+At another time they would have laughed at this, but the mystery teased
+them. They resented the fact that some rank outsider claimed Fort
+Enterprise for his post-office, without first having made himself
+known.
+
+"If he went back outside, he'd stop all this stuff coming in, you'd
+think."
+
+"Maybe somebody's just putting up a joke on us."
+
+"Funny kind of joke! Subscriptions to these magazines cost money."
+
+Stonor read off the titles of the magazines: "_The Medical Record_; _The
+American Medical Journal_; _The Physician's and Surgeon's Bulletin_."
+
+"Quite a scientific guy," said Doctor Giddings, with curling lip.
+
+"Strange, he gets so many papers and not a single letter!" remarked
+Father Goussard. "A friendless man!"
+
+Gaviller picked up a round tin, one of several packed and addressed
+alike. He read the business card of a well-known tobacconist. "Smoking
+tobacco!" he said indignantly. "If the Company's Dominion Mixture isn't
+good enough for any man I'd like to know it! He has a cheek, if you ask
+me, bringing in tobacco under my very nose!"
+
+"Tobacco!" cried Stonor. "It's all very well about papers, but no man
+would waste good tobacco! It must be somebody who started in before
+Ben!"
+
+Their own mail matter, that they had looked forward to so impatiently,
+was forgotten now.
+
+When Ben Causton came back they bombarded him with questions. But this
+bag had come through locked all the way from Miwasa Landing, and Ben,
+even Ben, the great purveyor of gossip in the North, had heard nothing
+of any Doctor Imbrie on his way in. Ben was more excited and more
+indignant than any of them. Somebody had got ahead of him in spreading a
+sensation!
+
+"It's a hoe-axe," said Ben. "It's them fellows down at the Landing
+trying to get a rise out of me. Or if it ain't that, it's some guy
+comin' in next spring, and sendin' in his outfit piecemeal ahead of him.
+And me powerless to protect myself! Ain't that an outrage! But when I
+meet him on the trail I'll put it to him!"
+
+"There are newspapers here, too," Stonor pointed out. "No man coming in
+next spring would send himself last year's papers."
+
+"Where is he, then?" they asked.
+
+The question was unanswerable.
+
+"Well, I'd like to see any lily-handed doctor guy from the outside face
+the river trail in the winter," said Ben bitterly. "If he'll do that,
+I'll carry his outfit for him. But he'll need more than his diploma to
+fit him for it."
+
+At any rate they had a brand-new subject for conversation at the post.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+About a week later, when Hairy Ben had started back up the river, the
+routine at the post was broken by the arrival of a small party of Kakisa
+Indians from the Kakisa or Swan River, a large unexplored stream off to
+the north-west. The Kakisas, an uncivilized and shy race, rarely
+appeared at Enterprise, and in order to get their trade Gaviller had
+formerly sent out a half-breed clerk to the Swan River every winter. But
+this man had lately died, and now the trade threatened to lapse for the
+lack of an interpreter. None of the Kakisas could speak English, and
+there was no company employee who could speak their uncouth tongue
+except Gordon Strange the bookkeeper, who could not be spared from the
+post.
+
+Wherefore Gaviller welcomed these six, in the hope that they might prove
+to be the vanguard of the main body. They were a wild and ragged lot,
+under the leadership of a withered elder called Mahtsonza. They were
+discovered by accident camping under cover of a poplar bluff across the
+river. No one knew how long they had been there, and Gordon Strange had
+a time persuading them to come the rest of the way. It was dusk when
+they entered the store, and Gaviller, by pre-arrangement with Mathews,
+clapped his hands and the electric lights went on. The effect surpassed
+his expectations. The Kakisas, with a gasp of terror, fled, and could
+not be tempted to return until daylight.
+
+They brought a good little bundle of fur, including two silver fox
+skins, the finest seen at Enterprise that season. They laid their fur on
+the counter, and sidled about the store silent and abashed, like
+children in a strange house. With perfectly wooden faces they took in
+all the wonders out of the corners of their eyes; the scales, the stove,
+the pictures on the canned goods, the show-cases of jewellery and candy.
+Candy they recognized, and, again like children, they discussed the
+respective merits of the different varieties in their own tongue.
+Gaviller, warned by his first mistake, affected to take no notice of
+them.
+
+The Kakisas had been in the store above an hour when Mahtsonza, without
+warning, produced a note from the inner folds of his dingy capote, and,
+handling it gingerly between thumb and forefinger, silently offered it
+to Gaviller. The trader's eyes almost started out of his head.
+
+"A letter!" he cried stupidly. "Where the hell did you get that?--Boys!
+Look here! A note from Swan River! Who in thunder at Swan River can
+write a white man's hand?"
+
+Stonor, Doc Giddings, Strange, and Mathews, who were in the store,
+hastened to him.
+
+"Who's it addressed to?" asked the policeman.
+
+"Just to the Company. Whoever wrote it didn't have the politeness to put
+my name down."
+
+"Maybe he doesn't know you."
+
+"How could that be?" asked Gaviller, with raised eyebrows.
+
+"Open it! Open it!" said Doc Giddings irritably.
+
+Gaviller did so, and his face expressed a still greater degree of
+astonishment. "Ha! Here's our man!" he cried.
+
+"Imbrie!" they exclaimed in unison.
+
+"Listen!" He read from the note.
+
+    "GENTLEMEN--I am sending you two silver fox skins, for which
+    please give me credit. I enclose an order for supplies, to be
+    sent by bearer. Also be good enough to hand the bearer any mail
+    matter which may be waiting for me.
+
+                         "Yours truly,
+                                   "ERNEST IMBRIE."
+
+The silence of stupefaction descended on them. The only gateway to the
+Swan River lay through Enterprise. How could a man have got there
+without their knowing it? Stupefaction was succeeded by resentment.
+
+"Will I be good enough to hand over his mail?" sneered Gaviller. "What
+kind of elegant language is this from Swan River?"
+
+"Sounds like a regular Percy," said Strange, who always echoed his
+chief.
+
+"Funny place for a Percy to set up," said Stonor drily.
+
+"He orders flour, sugar, beans, rice, coffee, tea, baking-powder, salt,
+and dried fruit," said Gaviller, as if that were a fresh cause of
+offence.
+
+"He has an appetite, then," said Stonor, "he's no ghost."
+
+Suddenly they fell upon Mahtsonza with a bombardment of questions,
+forgetting that the Indian could speak no English. He shrank back
+affrighted.
+
+"Wait a minute," said Strange. "Let me talk to him."
+
+He conferred for awhile with Mahtsonza in the strange, clicking tongue
+of the Kakisas. Gaviller soon became impatient.
+
+"Tell us as he goes along," he said. "Never mind waiting for the end of
+the story."
+
+"They can't tell you anything directly," said Strange deprecatingly;
+"there's nothing to do but let them tell a story in their own way. He's
+telling me now that Etzooah, a man with much hair, who hunts down the
+Swan River near the beginning of the swift water, came up to the village
+at the end of the horse-track on snowshoes and dragging a little sled.
+Etzooah had the letter for Gaviller, but he was tired out, so he handed
+it to Mahtsonza, who had dogs, to bring it the rest of the way, and gave
+Mahtsonza a mink-skin for his trouble."
+
+"Never mind all that," said Gaviller impatiently. "What about the white
+man?"
+
+Strange conferred again with Mahtsonza, while Gaviller bit his nails.
+
+"Mahtsonza says," he reported, "that Imbrie is a great White Medicine
+Man who has done honour to the Kakisa people by coming among them to
+heal the sick and do good. Mahtsonza says he has not seen Imbrie
+himself, because when he came among the Indians last fall Mahtsonza was
+off hunting on the upper Swan, but all the people talk about him and
+what strong medicine he makes."
+
+"Conjure tricks!" muttered Doc Giddings.
+
+"Where does he live?" demanded Gaviller.
+
+Strange asked the question and reported the answer. "He has built
+himself a shack beside the Great Falls of the Swan River. Mahtsonza says
+that the people know his medicine is strong because he is not afraid to
+live with the voice of the Great Falls."
+
+Stonor asked the next question. "What sort of man is he?"
+
+Strange, after putting the question, said: "Mahtsonza says he's very
+good-looking, or, as he puts it, a pretty man. He says he looks young,
+but he may be as old as the world, because with such strong medicine he
+could make himself look like anything he wanted. He says that the White
+Medicine Man talks much with dried words in covers--I suppose he means
+books."
+
+"Ask him what proof he has given them that his medicine is strong,"
+suggested Stonor.
+
+Strange translated Mahtsonza's answer as follows: "Last year when the
+bush berries were ripe (that's August) all the Indians down the river
+got sick. Water came out of their eyes and nose; their skin got as red
+as sumach and burned like fire."
+
+"Measles," said Gaviller. "The Beavers had it, too. They take it hard."
+
+Strange continued: "Mahtsonza says many of them died. They just lay down
+and gave up hope. Etzooah was the only Kakisa who had seen the White
+Medicine Man up to that time, and he went to him and asked him to make
+medicine to cure the sick. So the White Medicine Man came back with
+Etzooah to the village down the river. He had good words and a soft hand
+to the sick. He made medicine, and, behold! the sick arose and were
+well!"
+
+"Faith cure!" muttered Doc Giddings.
+
+"How long has Imbrie been down there by the Falls?" asked Gaviller.
+
+"Mahtsonza says he came last summer when the ground berries were ripe.
+That would be about July."
+
+"Did he come down the river from the mountains?"
+
+"Mahtsonza says no. Nobody on the river saw him go down."
+
+"Where did he come from, then?"
+
+"Mahtsonza says he doesn't know. Nobody knows. Some say he came from
+under the falls where the white bones lie. Some say it is the voice of
+the falls that comes among men in the shape of a man."
+
+"Rubbish! A ghost doesn't subscribe to medical journals!" said Doc
+Giddings.
+
+"He orders flour, sugar, beans," said Gaviller.
+
+When this was explained to Mahtsonza the Indian shrugged. Strange said:
+"Mahtsonza says if he takes a man's shape he's got to feed it."
+
+"Pshaw!" said Gaviller impatiently. "He must have come up the river. It
+is known that the Swan River empties into Great Buffalo Lake. The Lake
+can't be more than a hundred miles below the falls. No white man has
+ever been through that way, but somebody's got to be the first."
+
+"But we know every white man who ever went down to Great Buffalo Lake,"
+said Doc Giddings. "Certainly there never was a doctor there except the
+police doctor who makes the round with the treaty outfit every summer."
+
+"Well, it's got me beat!" said Gaviller, scratching his head.
+
+"Maybe it's someone wanted by the police outside," suggested Gordon
+Strange, "who managed to sneak into the country without attracting
+notice."
+
+"He's picked out a bad place to hide," said Stonor grimly. "He'll be
+well advertised up here."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor had a room in the "quarters," a long, low barrack of logs on the
+side of the quadrangle facing the river. It had been the trader's
+residence before the days of the big clap-boarded villa. Stonor, tiring
+of the conversation around the stove, frequently spent the evenings in
+front of his own fire, and here he sometimes had a visitor, to wit, Tole
+Grampierre, youngest son of Simon, the French half-breed farmer up the
+river. Tole came of good, self-respecting native stock, and was in his
+own person a comely, sensible youngster a few years younger than the
+trooper. Tole was the nearest thing to a young friend that Stonor
+possessed in the post. They were both young enough to have some
+illusions left. They talked of things they would have blushed to expose
+to the cynicism of the older men.
+
+Stonor sat in his barrel chair that he had made himself, and Tole sat on
+the floor nursing his knees. Both were smoking Dominion mixture.
+
+Said Tole: "Stonor, what you make of this Swan River mystery?"
+
+"Oh, anything can be a mystery until you learn the answer. I don't see
+why a man shouldn't settle out on Swan River if he has a mind to."
+
+"Why do all the white men talk against him?"
+
+"Don't ask me. I doubt if they could tell you themselves. When men talk
+in a crowd they get started on a certain line and go on from bad to
+worse without thinking what they mean by it."
+
+"Our people just the same that way, I guess," said Tole.
+
+"I'm no better," said Stonor. "I don't know how it is, but fellows in a
+crowd seem to be obliged to talk more foolishly than they think in
+private."
+
+"You don't talk against him, Stonor."
+
+The policeman laughed. "No, I stick up for him. It gets the others
+going. As a matter of fact, I'd like to know this Imbrie. For one thing,
+he's young like ourselves, Tole. And he must be a decent sort, to cure
+the Indians, and all that. They're a filthy lot, what we've seen of
+them."
+
+"Gaviller says he's going to send an outfit next spring to rout him out
+of his hole. Gaviller says he's a cash trader."
+
+Stonor chuckled. "Gaviller hates a cash trader worse than a devil with
+horns. It's nonsense anyway. What would the Kakisas do with cash? This
+talk of sending in an expedition will all blow over before spring."
+
+"Stonor, what for do you think he lives like that by himself?"
+
+"I don't know. Some yarn behind it, I suppose. Very likely a woman at
+the bottom of it. He's young. Young men do foolish things. Perhaps he'd
+be thankful for a friend now."
+
+"White men got funny ideas about women, I think."
+
+"I suppose it seems so. But where did you get that idea?"
+
+"Not from the talk at the store. I have read books. Love-stories.
+Pringle the missionary lend me a book call _Family Herald_ with many
+love-stories in it. From that I see that white men always go crazy about
+women."
+
+Stonor laughed aloud.
+
+"Stonor, were you ever real crazy about a woman?"
+
+The trooper shook his head--almost regretfully, one might have said.
+"The right one never came my way, Tole."
+
+"You don't like the girls around here."
+
+"Yes, I do. Nice girls. Pretty, too. But well, you see, they're not the
+same colour as me."
+
+"Just the same, they are crazy about you."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"Yes, they are. Call you 'Gold-piece.' Us fellows got no chance if you
+want them."
+
+"Tell me about the stories you read, Tole."
+
+Tole refused to be diverted from his subject. "Stonor, I think you would
+like to be real crazy about a woman."
+
+"Maybe," said the other dreamily. "Perhaps life would seem less empty
+then."
+
+"Would you go bury yourself among the Indians for a woman?"
+
+"I hardly think so," said Stonor, smiling. "Though you never can tell
+what you might do. But if I got turned down, I suppose I'd want to be as
+busy as possible to help forget it."
+
+"Well, I think that Imbrie is crazy for sure."
+
+"It takes all kinds to make a world. If I can get permission I'm going
+out to see him next summer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+HOOLIAM
+
+
+When the spring days came around, Stonor, whose business it was to keep
+watch on such things, began to perceive an undercurrent of waywardness
+among the Indians and breeds of the post. Teachers know how an epidemic
+of naughtiness will sweep a class; this was much the same thing. There
+was no actual outbreak; it was chiefly evinced in defiant looks and an
+impudent swagger. It was difficult to trace back, for the red people
+hang together solidly; a man with even a trace of red blood will rarely
+admit a white man into the secrets of the race. Under questioning they
+maintain a bland front that it is almost impossible to break down.
+Stonor had long ago learned the folly of trying to get at what he wanted
+by direct questioning.
+
+He finally, as he thought, succeeded in locating the source of the
+infection at Carcajou Point. Parties from the post rode up there with
+suspicious frequency, and came back with a noticeably lowered moral
+tone, licking their lips, so to speak. All the signs pointed to whisky.
+
+At dawn of a morning in May, Stonor, without having advertised his
+intention, set off for Carcajou on horseback. The land trail cut across
+a wide sweep of the river, and on horseback one could make it in a day,
+whereas it was a three days' paddle up-stream. Unfortunately he couldn't
+take them by surprise, for Carcajou was on the other side of the river
+from Enterprise, and Stonor must wait on the shore until they came over
+after him.
+
+As soon as he left the buildings of the post behind him Stonor's heart
+was greatly lifted up. It was his first long ride of the season. The
+trail led him through the poplar bush back to the bench, thence in a
+bee-line across the prairie. The sun rose as he climbed the bench. The
+prairie was not the "bald-headed" so dear to those who know it, but was
+diversified with poplar bluffs, clumps of willow, and wild-rose-scrub in
+the hollows. The crocuses were in bloom, the poplar trees hanging out
+millions of emerald pendants, and the sky showed that exquisite, tender
+luminousness that only the northern sky knows when the sun travels
+towards the north. Only singing-birds were lacking to complete the idyl
+of spring. Stonor, all alone in a beautiful world, lifted up his voice
+to supply the missing praise.
+
+Towards sunset he approached the shore of the river opposite Carcajou
+Point, but as he didn't wish to arrive at night, he camped within
+shelter of the woods. In the morning he signalled for a boat. They came
+after him in a dug-out, and he swam his horse across.
+
+A preliminary survey of the place revealed nothing out of the way. The
+people who called themselves Beaver Indians were in reality the
+scourings of half the tribes in the country, and it is doubtful if there
+was an individual of pure red race among them. Physically they were a
+sad lot, for Nature revenges herself swiftly on the offspring of
+hybrids. Quaint ethnological differences were exhibited in the same
+family; one brother would have a French physiognomy, another a Scottish
+cast of feature, and a third the thick lips and flattened nose of a
+negro. Their village was no less nondescript than its inhabitants,
+merely a straggling row of shacks, thrown together anyhow, and roofed
+with sods, now putting forth a brave growth of weeds. These houses were
+intended for a winter residence only. In summer they "pitched around."
+At present they were putting their dug-outs and canoes in order for a
+migration.
+
+Stonor was received on the beach by Shose (Joseph) Cardinal, a fine,
+up-standing ancient of better physique than his sons and grandsons. In a
+community of hairless men he was further distinguished by a straggling
+grey beard. His wits were beginning to fail, but not yet his cunning. He
+was extremely anxious to learn the reason for the policeman's coming.
+For Stonor to tell him would have been to defeat his object; to lie
+would have been to lower himself in their eyes; so Stonor took refuge in
+an inscrutability as polite as the old man's own.
+
+Stonor made a house-to-house canvass of the village, inquiring as to the
+health and well-being of each household, as is the custom of his
+service, and keeping his eyes open on his own account. He satisfied
+himself that if there had been whisky there, it was drunk up by now.
+Some of the men showed the sullen depressed air that follows on a
+prolonged spree, but all were sober at present.
+
+He was in one of the last houses of the village, when, out of the tail
+of his eye, he saw a man quietly issue from the house next in order,
+and, covered by the crowd around the door, make his way back to a house
+already visited. Stonor, without saying anything, went back to that
+house and found himself face to face with a young white man, a stranger,
+who greeted him with an insolent grin.
+
+"Who are you?" demanded the policeman.
+
+"Hooliam."
+
+"You have a white man's name. What is it?"
+
+"Smith"--this with inimitable insolence, and a look around that bid for
+the applause of the natives.
+
+Stonor's lip curled at the spectacle of a white man's thus lowering
+himself. "Come outside," he said sternly. "I want to talk to you."
+
+He led the way to a place apart on the river bank, and the other, not
+daring to defy him openly, followed with a swagger. With a stern glance
+Stonor kept the tatterdemalion crowd at bay. Stonor coolly surveyed his
+man in the sunlight and saw that he was not white, as he had supposed,
+but a quarter or eighth breed. He was an uncommonly good-looking young
+fellow in the hey-day of his youth, say, twenty-six. With his clear
+olive skin, straight features and curly dark hair he looked not so much
+like a breed as a man of one of the darker peoples of the Caucasian
+race, an Italian or a Greek. There was a falcon-like quality in the
+poise of his head, in his gaze, but the effect was marred by the
+consciousness of evil, the irreconcilable look in the fine eyes.
+
+"Bad clear through!" was Stonor's instinctive verdict.
+
+"Where did you come from?" he demanded.
+
+"Up river," was the casual reply. The man's English was as good as
+Stonor's own.
+
+"Answer me fully."
+
+"From Sah-ko-da-tah prairie, if you know where that is. I came into that
+country by way of Grande Prairie. I came from Winnipeg."
+
+Stonor didn't believe a word of this, but had no means of confuting the
+man on the spot. "How long have you been here?" he asked.
+
+"A week or so. I didn't keep track."
+
+"What is your business here?"
+
+"I'm looking for a job."
+
+"Among the Beavers? Why didn't you come to the trading-post?"
+
+"I was coming, but they tell me John Gaviller's a hard man to work fer.
+Thought I better keep clear of him."
+
+"Gaviller's the only employer of labour hereabouts. If you don't like
+him you'll have to look elsewhere."
+
+"I can take up land, can't I?"
+
+"Not here. This is treaty land. Plenty of good surveyed homesteads
+around the post."
+
+"Thanks. I prefer to pick my own location."
+
+"I'll give you your choice. You can either come down to the post where I
+can keep an eye on your doings, or go back up the river where you came
+from."
+
+"Do you call this a free country?"
+
+"Never mind that. You're getting off easy. If you'd rather, I'll put you
+under arrest and carry you down to the post for trial."
+
+"On what charge?"
+
+"Furnishing whisky to the Indians."
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the man, hoping to provoke Stonor into revealing the
+extent of his information.
+
+But the policeman shrugged, and remained mum.
+
+The other suddenly changed his front. "All right, I'll go if I have to,"
+he said, with a conciliatory air. "To-morrow."
+
+"You'll leave within an hour," said Stonor, consulting his watch. "I'll
+see you off. Better get your things together."
+
+The man still lingered, and Stonor saw an unspoken question in his eye,
+a desire to ingratiate himself. Now Stonor, under his stern port as an
+officer of the law, was intensely curious about the fellow. With his
+good looks, his impudent assurance, his command of English, he was a
+notable figure in that remote district. The policeman permitted himself
+to unbend a little.
+
+"What are you travelling in?" he asked.
+
+"Dug-out." Encouraged by the policeman's altered manner, the self-styled
+Hooliam went on, with an air of taking Stonor into his confidence:
+"These niggers here are a funny lot, aren't they? Still believe in
+magic."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Why, they're always talking about a White Medicine Man who lives beside
+a river off to the north-west. Ernest Imbrie they call him. Do you know
+him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"He's been to the post, hasn't he?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, how did he get into the country?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"These people say he works magic."
+
+"Well, if anyone wants to believe that--!"
+
+"What do they say about him down at the post?"
+
+"Plenty of foolishness."
+
+"But what?"
+
+"You don't expect me to repeat foolish gossip, do you?"
+
+"No, but what do you think about him?"
+
+"I don't think."
+
+"They say that Gaviller's lodged a complaint against him, and you're
+going out there to arrest him as soon as it's fit to travel."
+
+"That's a lie. There's no complaint against the man."
+
+"But you are going out there, aren't you?"
+
+"I can't discuss my movements with you."
+
+"That means you are going. Is it true he sent in a whole bale of silver
+foxes to the post?"
+
+"Say, what's your interest in this man, anyway?" said Stonor, losing
+patience.
+
+"Nothing at all," said the breed carelessly. "These Indians are always
+talking about him. It roused my curiosity, that's all."
+
+"Suppose you satisfy my curiosity about yourself," suggested Stonor
+meaningly.
+
+The old light of impudent mockery returned to the comely dark face. "Me?
+Oh, I'm only a no-account hobo," he said. "I'll have to be getting ready
+now."
+
+And so Stonor's curiosity remained unsatisfied. To have questioned the
+man further would only have been to lower his dignity. True, he might
+have arrested him, and forced him to give an account of himself, but the
+processes of justice are difficult and expensive so far north, and the
+policemen are instructed not to make arrests except when unavoidable. At
+the moment it did not occur to Stonor but that the man's questions about
+Imbrie were actuated by an idle curiosity.
+
+When the hour was up, the entire population of Carcajou Point gathered
+on the shore to witness Hooliam's departure. Stonor was there, too, of
+course, standing grimly apart from the rabble. Of what they thought of
+this summary deportation he could not be sure, but he suspected that if
+the whisky were all gone, they would not care much one way or the other.
+Hooliam was throwing his belongings in a dug-out of a different style
+from that used by the Beavers. It was ornamented with a curved prow and
+stern, such as Stonor had not before seen.
+
+"Where did you get that boat?" he asked.
+
+"I didn't steal it," answered Hooliam impudently. "Traded my horse for
+it and some grub at Fort Cardigan."
+
+Cardigan was a Company post on the Spirit a hundred miles or so above
+the Crossing. Stonor saw that Hooliam was well provided with blankets,
+grub, ammunition, etc., and that it was not Company goods.
+
+When Hooliam was ready to embark, he addressed the crowd in an Indian
+tongue which strongly resembled Beaver, which Stonor spoke, but had
+different inflections. Freely translated, his words were:
+
+"I go, men. The moose-berry (_i. e._, red-coat) wills it. I don't like
+moose-berries. Little juice and much stone. To eat moose-berries draws a
+man's mouth up like a tobacco-bag when the string is pulled."
+
+They laughed, with deprecatory side-glances at the policeman. They were
+not aware that he spoke their tongue. Stonor had no intention of letting
+them know it, and kept an inscrutable face. They pushed off the dug-out,
+and Hooliam, with a derisive wave of the hand, headed up river. All
+remained on the shore, and Stonor, seeing that they expected something
+more of Hooliam, remained also.
+
+He had gone about a third of a mile when Stonor saw him bring the
+dug-out around and ground her on the beach. He made no move to get out,
+but a woman appeared from out of the shrubbery and got in. She was too
+far away for Stonor to distinguish anything of her features; her figure
+looked matronly.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked sharply.
+
+Several voices answered. "Hooliam's woman. Hooliam got old woman for his
+woman"--with scornful laughter. Now that Hooliam was gone, they were
+prepared to curry favour with the policeman.
+
+Stonor was careful not to show the uneasiness he felt. This was his
+first intimation that Hooliam had a companion. He considered following
+him in another dug-out, but finally decided against it. The fact that he
+had taken the woman aboard in plain sight smacked merely of bravado. A
+long experience of the red race had taught Stonor that they love to
+shroud their movements in mystery from the whites, and that in their
+most mysterious acts there is not necessarily any significance.
+
+Hooliam, with a wave of his paddle, resumed his journey, and presently
+disappeared around a bend. Stonor turned on his heel and left the beach,
+followed by the people. They awaited his next move somewhat
+apprehensively, displaying an anxiety to please which suggested bad
+consciences. Stonor, however, contented himself with offering some
+private admonitions to Shose Cardinal, who seemed to take them in good
+part. He then prepared to return to the post. The people speeded his
+departure with relieved faces.
+
+That night Stonor camped on the prairie half-way home. As he lay wooing
+sleep under the stars, his horse cropping companionably near by, a new
+thought caused him to sit up suddenly in his blankets.
+
+"He mentioned the name Ernest Imbrie. The Indians never call him
+anything but the White Medicine Man. And even if they had picked up the
+name Imbrie at the post, they never speak of a man by his Christian
+name. If they had heard the name Ernest I doubt if they could pronounce
+it. Sounds as if he knew the name beforehand. Queer if there should be
+any connection there. I wish I hadn't let him go so easily.--Oh, well,
+it's too late to worry about it now. The steamboat will get to the
+Crossing before he does. I'll drop a line to Lambert to keep an eye on
+him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR
+
+
+At Fort Enterprise a busy time followed. The big steamboat ("big" of
+course only for lack of anything bigger than a launch to compare with)
+had to be put in the water and outfitted, and the season's catch of fur
+inventoried, baled and put aboard. By Victoria Day all was ready. They
+took the day off to celebrate with games and oratory (chiefly for the
+benefit of the helpless natives) followed by a big bonfire and dance at
+Simon Grampierre's up the river.
+
+Next morning the steamboat departed up-stream, taking Captain Stinson,
+Mathews, and most of the native employees of the post in her crew. Doc
+Giddings and Stonor watched her go, each with a little pain at the
+breast; she was bound towards the great busy world, world of infinite
+delight, of white women, lights, music, laughter and delicate feasting;
+in short, to them the world of romance. They envied the very bales of
+fur aboard that were bound for the world's great market-places. On the
+other hand, John Gaviller watched the steamboat go with high
+satisfaction. To him she represented Profit. He never knew homesickness,
+because he was at home. For him the world revolved around Fort
+Enterprise. As for Gordon Strange, the remaining member of the quartette
+who watched her go, no one ever really knew what he thought.
+
+The days that followed were the dullest in the whole year. The natives
+had departed for their summer camps, and there was no one left around
+the post but the few breed farmers. To Stonor, who was twenty-seven
+years old, these days were filled with a strange unrest; for the coming
+of summer with its universal blossoming was answered by a surge in his
+own youthful blood--and he had no safety-valve. A healthy instinct urged
+him to a ceaseless activity; he made a garden behind his quarters; he
+built a canoe (none of your clumsy dug-outs, but a well-turned
+Peterboro' model sheathed with bass-wood); he broke the colts of the
+year. Each day he tired himself out and knew no satisfaction in his
+work, and each morning he faced the shining world with a kind of groan.
+Just now he had not even Tole Grampierre to talk to, for Tole, following
+the universal law, was sitting up with Berta Thomas.
+
+The steamboat's itinerary took her first to Spirit River Crossing, the
+point of departure for "outside" where she discharged her fur and took
+on supplies for the posts further up-stream. Proceeding up to Cardigan
+and Fort Cheever, she got their fur and brought it back to the Crossing.
+Then, putting on supplies for Fort Enterprise, she hustled down home
+with the current. It took her twelve days to mount the stream and six to
+return. Gaviller was immensely proud of the fact that she was the only
+thing in the North that ran on a pre-arranged schedule. He even sent out
+a timetable to the city for the benefit of intending tourists. She was
+due back at Enterprise on June 15th.
+
+When the morning of that day broke a delightful excitement filled the
+breasts of those left at the post. As in most Company establishments, on
+the most prominent point of the river-bank stood a tall flagstaff, with
+a little brass cannon at its foot. The flag was run up and the cannon
+loaded, and every five minutes during the day some one would be running
+out to gaze up the river. Only Gaviller affected to be calm.
+
+"You're wasting your time," he would say. "Stinson tied up at Tar Island
+last night. If he comes right down he'll be here at three forty-five;
+and if he has to land at Carcajou for wood it will be near supper-time."
+
+The coming of the steamboat always held the potentialities of a dramatic
+surprise, for they had no telegraph to warn them of whom or what she was
+bringing. This year they expected quite a crowd. In addition to their
+regular visitors, Duncan Seton, the Company inspector, and Bishop
+Trudeau on his rounds, the government was sending in a party of
+surveyors to lay off homesteads across the river, and Mr. Pringle, the
+Episcopal missionary, was returning to resume his duties. An added spice
+of anticipation was lent by the fact that the latter was expected to
+bring his sister to keep house for him. There had been no white woman at
+Fort Enterprise since the death of Mrs. Gaviller many years before. But,
+as Miss Pringle was known to be forty years old, the excitement on her
+account was not undue. Her mark would be Gaviller, the younger men said,
+affecting not to notice the trader's annoyance.
+
+Gaviller had put a big boat's whistle on his darling _Spirit River_, and
+the mellow boom of it brought them on a run out of the store before she
+hove in sight around the islands in front of Grampierre's. Gaviller had
+his binoculars. He could no longer keep up his pretence of calmness.
+
+"Three twenty-eight!" he cried, excitedly. "Didn't I tell you! Who says
+we can't keep time up here! She'll run her plank ashore at three
+forty-five to the dot!"
+
+"There she is!" they cried, as she poked her nose around the islands.
+
+"Good old tub!"
+
+"By God! she's a pretty sight--white as a swan!"
+
+"And floats like one!"
+
+"Some class to that craft, sir!"
+
+Meanwhile Gaviller was nervously focussing his binoculars. "By Golly!
+there's a big crowd on deck!" he cried. "Must be ten or twelve beside
+the crew!"
+
+"Can you see the petticoat?" asked Doc Giddings. "Gee! I hope she can
+cook!"
+
+"Wait a minute! Yes--there she is!--Hello! By God, boys, there's two of
+them!"
+
+"Two!"
+
+"Go on, you're stringing us!"
+
+"The other must be a breed."
+
+"No, sir, she's got a white woman's hat on, a stylish hat. And now I can
+see her white face!"
+
+"John, for the lova Mike let me look!"
+
+But the trader held him off obdurately. "I believe she's young. She's a
+little woman beside the other. I believe she's good-looking! All the men
+are crowding around her."
+
+Stonor's heart set up an unaccountable beating. "Ah, it'll be the wife
+of one of the surveyors," he said, with the instinct of guarding against
+a disappointment.
+
+"No, sir! If her husband was aboard the other men wouldn't be crowding
+around like that."
+
+"No single woman under forty would dare venture up here. She'd be
+mobbed."
+
+"Might be a pleasant sort of experience for her."
+
+Doc Giddings had at last secured possession of the glasses. "She _is_
+good-looking!" he cried. "Glory be, she's a peach! I can see her smile!"
+
+The boat was soon close enough for the binoculars to be dispensed with.
+To Stonor the whole picture was blurred, save for the one slender,
+fragile figure clad in the well-considered dress of a lady, perfect in
+detail. Of her features he was aware at first only of a beaming, wistful
+smile that plucked at his heartstrings with a strange sharpness. Even at
+that distance she gave out something that changed him for ever, and he
+knew it. He gazed, entirely self-forgetful, with rapt eyes and parted
+lips that would have caused the other men to shout with laughter--had
+they not been gazing, too. The man who dwells in a world full of
+charming women never knows what they may mean to a man. Let him be
+exiled, and he'll find out. In that moment the smouldering uneasiness
+which had made Stonor a burden to himself of late burst into flame, and
+he knew what was the matter. He beheld his desire.
+
+As the steamboat swept by below them, Stonor automatically dipped the
+flag, and Gaviller touched off the old muzzle-loader, which vented a
+magnificent roar for its size. The whistle replied. The _Spirit River_
+waltzed gracefully around in the stream, and, coming back against the
+current, pushed her nose softly into the mud of the strand. They ran
+down to meet her. Hawsers were passed ashore and made fast, and the
+plank run out.
+
+Gaviller and the others went aboard, and first greetings were exchanged
+on the forward deck of the steamboat. Stonor, afflicted with a sudden
+diffidence, hung in the background. He wished to approach her by
+degrees. Meanwhile he was taking her in. He scarcely dared look at her
+directly, but his gaze thirstily drank in her outlying details, so to
+speak. Her small, well-shod feet were marvellous to him; likewise her
+exquisite silken ankles. He observed that she walked with stiff, short,
+delicate steps, like a high-bred filly. He was enchanted with the
+slight, graceful gesticulation of her gloved hand. When he finally
+brought himself to look at her eyes he was not disappointed; deep blue
+were they, steady, benignant, and of a heart-disquieting wistfulness.
+Other items, by the way, were a little straight nose, absurd and
+lovable, and lips fresh and bright as a child's. All the men were
+standing about her with deferential bared heads, and the finest thing
+(in Stonor's mind) was that she displayed no self-consciousness in this
+trying situation; none of the cooings, the gurglings, the flirtatious
+flutterings that bring the sex into disrepute. Her back was as straight
+as a plucky boy's and her chin up like the same.
+
+When Stonor saw that his turn was approaching to be introduced, he was
+seized outright with panic. He slipped inside the vessel and made his
+way back to where the engineer was wiping his rods. He greeted Mathews
+with a solicitude that surprised the dour Scotchman. He stood there
+making conversation until he heard everybody in the bow go ashore.
+Afterwards he was seized with fresh panic upon realizing that delaying
+the inevitable introduction could not but have the effect of singling
+him out and making him more conspicuous when it came about.
+
+John Gaviller carried Miss Pringle and the charming unknown up to the
+clap-boarded villa until the humble shack attached to the English
+mission could be made fit to receive them. Stonor went for a long walk
+to cool his fevered blood. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself. By
+his timidity, not to use a stronger word, he had lost precious hours;
+indeed, now that he had missed his first opportunity, he might be
+overlooked altogether. The other men would not be likely to help him out
+at all. A cold chill struck to his breast at the thought. He resolved to
+march right up to the guns of her eyes on his return. But he made a
+score of conflicting resolutions in the course of his walk. Meanwhile he
+didn't yet know whether she were Miss or Mrs., or what was her errand at
+Fort Enterprise. True, he could have gone back and asked any of the men
+who came on the boat, but nothing in the world could have induced him to
+speak of her to anyone just then.
+
+When he got back, it was to find the post in a fever of preparation.
+John Gaviller had asked every white man to his house to dinner to meet
+the ladies. It was to be a real "outside" dinner party, and there was a
+sudden, frantic demand for collars, cravats and presentable foot-wear.
+Nobody at the post had a dress-suit but Gaviller himself.
+
+Of them all only Stonor had no sartorial problems; his new uniform and
+his Strathcona boots polished according to regulations were all he had
+and all he needed. He surveyed the finished product in his little mirror
+with strong dissatisfaction. "Ornery-looking cuss," he thought. But a
+man is no judge of his own looks. A disinterested observer might have
+given a different verdict. A young man less well favoured by nature
+would have gazed at Stonor's long-limbed ease with helpless envy. He had
+that rare type of figure that never becomes encumbered with fat. The
+grace of youth and the strength of maturity met there. He would make a
+pattern colonel if he lived. Under the simple lines of his uniform one
+apprehended the ripple and play of unclogged muscles. If all men were
+like Stonor the tailor's task would be a sinecure.
+
+As to his face, mention has already been made of the sober gaze
+lightened by a suggestion of sly mirthfulness. In a company where
+sprightliness was the great desideratum, Stonor, no doubt, would have
+been considered slow. Men with strong reserves are necessarily a little
+slow in coming into action; they are apt, too, as a decent cover for
+their feelings, to affect more slowness than they feel. A woman can
+rarely look at that kind of man without feeling a secret desire to rouse
+him; there is so clearly something to rouse. It was Stonor's hair which
+had given rise to the quaint name the native maidens had applied to him,
+the "Gold-piece." It was not yellow hair, as we call it, but a shiny
+light brown, and under the savage attack of his brushes the shine was
+accentuated.
+
+The guests were received in the drawing-room of Enterprise House, which
+was rarely opened nowadays. It had a charming air of slightly
+old-fashioned gentility, just as its dead mistress had left it, and the
+rough Northerners came in with an abashed air. John Gaviller,
+resplendent in the dress-suit, stood by the piano, with the little lady
+on one hand and the large lady on the other, and one after another the
+men marched up and made their obeisances. The actual introduction proved
+to be not so terrible an ordeal as Stonor had feared--or perhaps it is
+more proper to say, that it was so terrible he was numbed and felt
+nothing. It was all over in a minute. "Miss Starling!" the name rang
+through his consciousness like the sound of silver bells.
+
+Face to face Stonor saw her but dimly through the mist of too much
+feeling. She treated him exactly the same as the others, that is to say,
+she was kind, smiling, interested, and personally inscrutable. Stonor
+was glad that there was another man pressing close at his heels, for he
+felt that he could stand no more just then. He was passed on to Miss
+Pringle. Of this lady it need only be said that she was a large-size
+clergyman's sister, a good soul, pious and kindly. She has little to do
+with this tale.
+
+In Stonor's eyes she proved to have a great merit, for she was disposed
+to talk exclusively about Miss Starling. Stonor's ears were long for
+that. From her talk he gathered three main facts: (a) that Miss
+Starling's given name was Clare (enchanting syllable!); (b) that the two
+ladies had become acquainted for the first time on the way into the
+country; (c) that Miss Starling was going back with the steamboat. "Of
+course!" thought Stonor, with his heart sinking slowly like a
+water-logged branch.
+
+"Isn't she plucky!" said Miss Pringle enthusiastically.
+
+"She looks it," said Stonor, with a sidelong glance at the object of her
+encomium.
+
+"To make this trip, I mean, all by herself."
+
+"Is it just to see the country?" asked Stonor diffidently.
+
+"Oh, don't you know? She's on the staff of the _Winnipeg News-Herald_,
+and is writing up the trip for her paper."
+
+Stonor instantly made up his mind to spend his next leave in Winnipeg.
+His relief was due in October.
+
+John Gaviller could do things in good style when he was moved to it. The
+table was gay with silver under candle-light. Down the centre were
+placed great bowls of painter's brush, the rose of the prairies. And
+with the smiling ladies to grace the head of the board, it was like a
+glimpse of a fairer world to the men of the North. Miss Pringle was on
+Gaviller's right, Miss Starling on his left. Stonor was about half-way
+down the table, and fortunately on the side opposite the younger lady,
+where he could gaze his fill.
+
+She was wearing a pink evening dress trimmed with silver, that to
+Stonor's unaccustomed eyes seemed like gossamer and moonshine. He was
+entranced by her throat and by the appealing loveliness of her thin
+arms. "How could I ever have thought a fat woman beautiful!" he asked
+himself. She talked with her arms and her delightfully restless
+shoulders. Stonor had heard somewhere that this was a sign of a warm
+heart. For the first time he had a view of her hair; it was dark and
+warm and plentiful, and most cunningly arranged.
+
+Stonor was totally unaware of what he was eating. From others, later, he
+learned of the triumph of the kitchen--and all at three hours' notice.
+Fortunately for him, everybody down the table was hanging on the talk at
+the head, so that no efforts in that direction were required of him. He
+was free to listen and dream.
+
+"Somewhere in the world there is a man who will be privileged some day
+to sit across the table from her at every meal! Not in a crowd like
+this, but at their own table in their own house. Probably quite an
+ordinary fellow, too, certainly not worthy of his luck. With her eyes
+for him alone, and her lovely white arms!--While other men are batching
+it alone. Things are not evenly divided in this world, for sure! If that
+man went to hell afterwards it wouldn't any more than square things."
+
+In answer to a question he heard her say: "Oh, don't ask me about
+Winnipeg! All cities are so ordinary and usual! I want to hear about
+your country. Tell me stories about the fascinating silent places."
+
+"Well, as it happens," said Gaviller, speaking slowly to give his words
+a proper effect, "we have a first-class mystery on hand just at
+present."
+
+"Oh, tell me all about it!" she said, as he meant her to.
+
+"A fellow, a white man, has appeared from nowhere at all, and set
+himself up beside the Swan River, an unexplored stream away to the
+north-west of here. There he is, and no one knows how he got there.
+We've never laid eyes on him, but the Indians bring us marvellous tales
+of his 'strong medicine,' meaning magic, you know. They say he first
+appeared from under the great falls of the Swan River. They describe him
+as a sort of embodiment of the voice of the Falls, but we suspect there
+is a more natural explanation, because he sends into the post for the
+food of common humans, and gets a bundle of magazines and papers by
+every mail. They come addressed to Doctor Ernest Imbrie. Our poor Doc
+here is as jealous as a cat of his reputation as a healer!"
+
+Gaviller was rewarded with a general laugh, in which her silvery tones
+were heard.
+
+"Oh, tell me more about him!" she cried.
+
+Of all the men who were watching her there was not one who observed any
+change in her face. Afterwards they remembered this with wonder. Yet
+there was something in her voice, her manner, the way she kept her chin
+up perhaps, that caused each man to think as her essential quality:
+
+"She's game!"
+
+The whole story of Imbrie as they knew it was told, with all the
+embroidery that had been unconsciously added during the past months.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+MORE ABOUT CLARE
+
+
+Determined to make the most of their rare feminine visitation at Fort
+Enterprise, on the following day the fellows got up a chicken hunt on
+the river bottom east of the post, to be followed by an _al fresco_
+supper at which broiled chicken was to be the _piece de resistance_. The
+ladies didn't shoot any prairie chicken, but they stimulated the hunters
+with their presence, and afterwards condescended to partake of the
+delicate flesh.
+
+Stonor, though he was largely instrumental in getting the thing up, and
+though he worked like a Trojan to make the affair go, still kept himself
+personally in the background. He consorted with Captain Stinson and
+Mathews, middle-aged individuals who were considered out of the running.
+It was not so much shyness now, as an instinct of self-preservation.
+"She'll be gone in a week," he told himself. "You mustn't let this thing
+get too strong a hold on you, or life here after she has gone will be
+hellish. You've got to put her out of your mind, my son--or just keep
+her as a lovely dream not to be taken in earnest. Hardly likely, after
+seeing the world, that she'd look twice at a sergeant of police!"
+
+In his innocence Stonor adopted the best possible way of attracting her
+attention to himself. More than once, when he was not looking, her eyes
+sought him out curiously. In answer to her questions of the other men it
+appeared that it was Stonor who had sent the natives out in advance to
+drive the game past them: it was Stonor who surprised them with a cloth
+already spread under a poplar tree: it was Stonor who cooked the birds
+so deliciously. She was neither vain nor silly, but at the same time in
+a company where every man lay down at her feet, so to speak, and begged
+her to tread on him, it could not but seem peculiar to her that the
+best-looking man of them all should so studiously avoid her.
+
+Next day they all crossed the river and rode up to Simon Grampierre's
+place, where the half-breeds repeated the Victoria Day games for the
+amusement of the visitors. (These days are still talked of at Fort
+Enterprise.) Stonor was finally induced to give an exhibition of
+high-school riding as taught to the police recruits, and thereby threw
+all the other events in the shade. But their plaudits overwhelmed him.
+He disappeared and was seen no more that day.
+
+Sunday followed. Mr. Pringle and his sister had got the little church in
+order, and services were held there for the first time in many months.
+The mission was half a mile east of the Company buildings, and after
+church they walked home beside the fields of sprouting grain, in a
+comfortable Sabbath peace that was much the same at Enterprise as
+elsewhere in the world.
+
+The procession travelled in the following order: First, four surveyors
+marching with their heads over their shoulders, at imminent risk of an
+undignified stumble in the trail; next, Clare Starling, flanked on one
+side by Gaviller, on the other by Doc Giddings, with two more surveyors
+on the outlying wings, peering forward to get a glimpse of her; then
+Captain Stinson, Mathews, and Sergeant Stonor in a line, talking about
+the state of the crops, and making believe to pay no attention to what
+was going on ahead; lastly, Mr. Pringle and his sister hurrying to catch
+up.
+
+Half-way home Miss Starling, _a propos_ of nothing, suddenly stopped and
+turned her head. "Sergeant Stonor," she said. He stepped to her side.
+Since she clearly showed in her manner that she intended holding
+converse with the policeman, there was nothing for Gaviller _et al._ to
+do but proceed, which they did with none too good a grace. This left
+Stonor and the girl walking together in the middle of the procession.
+Stinson and Mathews, who were supposed to be out of it anyway, winked at
+each other portentously.
+
+"I wanted to ask you about that horse you rode yesterday, a beautiful
+animal. What do you call him?"
+
+"Miles Aroon," said Stonor, like a wooden man. He dreaded that she meant
+to go on and enlarge on his riding tricks. In his modesty he now
+regarded that he had made an awful ass of himself the day before. But
+she stuck to horse-flesh.
+
+"He's a beauty! Would he let me ride him?"
+
+"Oh, yes! He has no bad tricks. I broke him myself. But of course he
+knows nothing of side-saddles."
+
+"I ride astride."
+
+"I believe we're all going for a twilight ride to-night. I'll bring him
+for you."
+
+As a result of this Stonor's praiseworthy resolutions to keep out of
+harm's way were much weakened. Indeed, late that night in his little
+room in quarters he gave himself up to the most outrageous dreams of a
+possible future happiness. Stonor was quite unversed in the ways of
+modern ladies; all his information on the subject had been gleaned from
+romances, which, as everybody knows, are always behind the times in such
+matters, and it is possible that he banked too much on the simple fact
+of her singling him out on the walk home.
+
+There was a great obstacle in his way; the force sets its face against
+matrimony during the term of service. Stonor in his single-mindedness
+never thought that there were other careers. "I shall have to get a
+commission," he thought. "An inspectorship is little enough to offer
+her. But what an ornament she'd be to a post! And she'd love the life;
+she loves horses. But Lord! it's difficult nowadays, with nothing going
+on. If an Indian war would only break out!"--He was quite ready to
+sacrifice the unfortunate red race.
+
+On Monday night he was again bidden to dine at Enterprise House. As
+Gaviller since the day before had been no more than decently polite,
+Stonor ventured to hope that the invitation might have been instigated
+by her. At any rate he was placed by her side this time, where he sat a
+little dizzy with happiness, and totally oblivious to food. At the same
+time it should be understood that the young lady had no veiled glances
+or hidden meanings for him alone; she treated him, as she did all the
+others, to perfect candour.
+
+After dinner they had music in the drawing-room. The piano was
+grotesquely out of tune, but what cared they for that? She touched it
+and their souls were drawn out of their bodies. Probably the performer
+suffered, but she played on with a smile. They listened entranced until
+darkness fell, and when it is dark at Enterprise in June it is high time
+to go to bed.
+
+They all accompanied Stonor to the door. The long-drawn summer dusk of
+the North is an ever fresh wonder to newcomers. At sight of the
+exquisite half-light and the stars an exclamation of pleasure broke from
+Clare.
+
+"Much too fine a night to go to bed!" she cried. "Sergeant Stonor, take
+me out to the bench beside the flagstaff for a few minutes."
+
+As they sat down she said: "Don't you want to smoke?"
+
+"Don't feel the need of it," he said. His voice was husky with feeling.
+Would a man want to smoke in Paradise?
+
+By glancing down and sideways he could take her in as far up as her neck
+without appearing to stare rudely. She was sitting with her feet crossed
+and her hands in her lap like a well-bred little girl. When he dared
+glance at her eyes he saw that there was no consciousness of him there.
+They were regarding something very far away. In the dusk the wistfulness
+which hid behind a smile in daylight looked forth fully and broodingly.
+
+Yet when she spoke the matter was ordinary enough. "All the men here
+tell me about the mysterious stranger who lives on the Swan River. They
+can't keep away from the subject. And the funny part of it is, they all
+seem to be angry at him. Yet they know nothing of him. Why is that?"
+
+"It means nothing," said Stonor, smiling. "You see, all the men pride
+themselves on knowing every little thing that happens in the country.
+It's all they have to talk about. In a way the whole country is like a
+village. Well, it's only because this man has succeeded in defying their
+curiosity that they're sore. It's a joke!"
+
+"They tell me that you stand up for him," she said, with a peculiar
+warmth in her voice.
+
+"Oh, just to make the argument interesting," said Stonor lightly.
+
+"Is that all?" she said, chilled.
+
+"No, to tell the truth, I was attracted to the man from the first," he
+said more honestly. "By what the Indians said about his healing the sick
+and so on. And they said he was young. I have no friend of my own age up
+here--I mean no real friend. So I thought--well, I would like to know
+him."
+
+"I like that," she said simply.
+
+There was a silence.
+
+"Why don't you--sometime--go to him?" she said, with what seemed almost
+like a breathless air.
+
+"I am going," said Stonor simply. "I received permission in the last
+mail. The government wants me to look over the Kakisa Indians to see if
+they are ready for a treaty. The policy is to leave the Indians alone as
+long as they are able to maintain themselves under natural conditions.
+But as soon as they need help the government takes charge; limits them
+to a reservation; pays an annuity, furnishes medical attention, and so
+on. This is called taking treaty. The Kakisas are one of the last wild
+tribes left."
+
+She seemed scarcely to hear him. "When are you going?" she asked with
+the same air of breathlessness.
+
+"As soon as the steamboat goes back."
+
+"How far is it to Swan River?"
+
+"Something under a hundred and fifty miles. Three days' hard riding or
+four days' easy."
+
+"And how far down to the great falls?"
+
+"Accounts differ. From the known features of the map I should say about
+two hundred miles. They say the river's as crooked as a ram's horn."
+
+There was another silence. She was busy with her own thoughts, and
+Stonor was content not to talk if he might look at her.
+
+With her next speech she seemed to strike off at a tangent. She spoke
+with a lightness that appeared to conceal a hint of pain. "They say the
+mounted police are the guides, philosophers and friends of the people up
+North. They say you have to do everything, from feeding babies to
+reading the burial service."
+
+"I'm afraid there's a good bit of romancing about the police," said
+Stonor modestly.
+
+"But they do make good friends, don't they?" she insisted.
+
+"I hope so."
+
+She gave him the full of her deep, starry eyes. It was not an
+intoxicating glance, but one that moved him to the depths. "Will you be
+my friend?" she asked simply.
+
+Poor Stonor! With too great a need for speech, speech itself was
+foundered. No words ever coined seemed strong enough to carry the weight
+of his desire to assure her. He could only look at her, imploring her to
+believe in him. In the end only two little words came; to him
+wretchedly inadequate; but it is doubtful if they could have been
+bettered.
+
+"Try me!"
+
+His look satisfied her. She lowered her eyes. The height of emotion was
+too great to be maintained. She cast round in her mind for something to
+let them down. "How far to the north the sunset glow is now."
+
+Stonor understood. He answered in the same tone: "At this season it
+doesn't fade out all night. The sun is such a little way below the rim
+there, that the light just travels around the northern horizon, and
+becomes the dawn in a little while."
+
+For a while they talked of indifferent matters.
+
+By and by she said casually: "When you go out to Swan River, take me
+with you."
+
+He thought she was joking. "I say, that would be a lark!"
+
+She laughed a little nervously.
+
+He tried to keep it up, though his heart set up a furious beating at the
+bare idea of such a trip. "Can you bake bannock?"
+
+"I can make good biscuits."
+
+"What would we do for a chaperon?"
+
+"Nobody has chaperons nowadays."
+
+"You don't know what a moral community this is!"
+
+"I meant it," she said suddenly, in a tone there was no mistaking.
+
+All his jokes deserted him, and left him trembling a little. Indeed he
+was scandalized, too, being less advanced, probably, in his ideas than
+she. "It's--it's impossible!" he stammered at last.
+
+"Why?" she asked calmly.
+
+He could not give the real reason, of course. "To take the trail, you!
+To ride all day and sleep on the hard ground! And the river trip, an
+unknown river with Heaven knows what rapids and other difficulties! A
+fragile little thing like you!"
+
+Opposition stimulated her. "What you call my fragility is more apparent
+than real," she said with spirit. "As a matter of fact I have more
+endurance than most big women. I have less to carry. I am accustomed to
+living and travelling in the open. I can ride all day--or walk if need
+be."
+
+"It's impossible!" he repeated. It was the policeman who spoke. The
+man's blood was leaping, and his imagination painting the most alluring
+pictures. How often on his lonely journeys had he not dreamed of the
+wild delights of such companionship!
+
+"What is your real reason?" she asked.
+
+"Well, how could you go--with me, you know?" he said, blushing into the
+dusk.
+
+"I'm not afraid," she answered instantly. "Anyway, that's my look-out,
+isn't it?"
+
+"No," he said, "I have to think of it. The responsibility would be
+mine." Here the man broke through--"Oh, I talk like a prig!" he cried.
+"But don't you see, I'm not up here on my own. I can't do what I would
+like. A policeman has got to be proper, hasn't he?"
+
+She smiled at his _naivete_. "But if I have business out there?"
+
+This sounded heartless to Stonor. It was the first and last time that he
+ventured to criticize her. "Oh," he objected, "I don't know what reasons
+the poor fellow has for burying himself--they must be good reasons, for
+it's no joke to live alone! It doesn't seem quite fair, does it, to dig
+him out and write him up in the papers?"
+
+"Oh, what must you think of me!" she murmured in a quick, hurt tone.
+
+He saw that he had made a mistake. "I--I beg your pardon," he stammered
+contritely. "I thought that was what you meant by business."
+
+"I'm not a reporter," she said.
+
+"But they told me----"
+
+"Yes, I know, I lied. I'm not apologizing for that. It was necessary to
+lie to protect myself from vulgar curiosity."
+
+He looked his question.
+
+She was not quite ready to answer it yet. "Suppose I had the best of
+reasons for going," she said, hurriedly, "a reason that Mrs. Grundy
+would approve of; it would be your duty as a policeman, wouldn't it, to
+help me?"
+
+"Yes--but----?"
+
+She turned imploring eyes on him, and unconsciously clasped her hands.
+"I'm sure you're generous and steadfast," she said quickly. "I can trust
+you, can't I, not to give me away? The gossip, the curious stares--it
+would be more than I could bear! Promise me, whatever you may think of
+it all, to respect my secret."
+
+"I promise," he said a little stiffly. It hurt him that he was required
+to protest his good faith. "The first thing we learn in the force is to
+keep our mouths shut."
+
+"Ah, now you're offended with me because I made you promise!"
+
+"It doesn't matter. It's over now. What is your reason for wanting to go
+out to Swan River?"
+
+She answered low: "I am Ernest Imbrie's wife."
+
+"Oh!" said Stonor in a flat tone. A sick disappointment filled him--yet
+in the back of his mind he had expected something of the kind. An inner
+voice whispered to him: "Not for you! It was too much to hope for!"
+
+Presently she went on: "I injured him cruelly. That's why he buried
+himself so far away."
+
+Stonor turned horror-stricken eyes on her.
+
+"Oh, not that," she said proudly and indifferently. "The injury I did
+him was to his spirit; that is worse." Stonor turned hot for his
+momentary suspicion.
+
+"I can repair it by going to him," she went on. "I _must_ go to him. I
+can never know peace until I have tried to make up to him a little of
+what I have made him suffer."
+
+She paused to give Stonor a chance to speak--but he was dumb.
+
+Naturally she misunderstood. "Isn't that enough?" she cried painfully.
+"I have told you the essential truth. Must I go into particulars? I
+can't bear to speak of these things!"
+
+"No! No!" he said, horrified. "It's not that. I don't want to hear any
+more."
+
+"Then you'll help me?"
+
+"I will take you to him."
+
+She began to cry in a pitiful shaken way.
+
+"Ah, don't!" murmured Stonor. "I can't stand seeing you."
+
+"It's--just from relief," she whispered.... "I've been under a
+strain.... I think I should have gone out of my mind--if I had been
+prevented from expiating the wrong I did.... I wish I could tell
+you--he's the bravest man in the world, I think--and the most
+unhappy!... And I heaped unhappiness on his head!"
+
+This was hard for Stonor to listen to, but it was so obviously a relief
+to her to speak, that he made no attempt to stop her.
+
+She soon quieted down. "I shan't try to thank you," she said. "I'll show
+you."
+
+Stonor foresaw that the proposed journey would be attended with
+difficulties.
+
+"Would it be possible," she asked meekly, "for you to plan to leave a
+day in advance of the steamboat, and say nothing about taking me?"
+
+"You mean for us to leave the post secretly?" he said, a little aghast.
+
+"When the truth came out it would be all right," she urged. "And it
+would save me from becoming the object of general talk and commiseration
+here. Why, if Mr. Gaviller knew in advance, he'd probably insist on
+sending a regular expedition."
+
+"Perhaps he would."
+
+"And they'd all try to dissuade me. I'd have to talk them over one by
+one--I haven't the strength of mind left for that. They'd say I ought to
+wait here and send for him----"
+
+"Well, wouldn't that be better?"
+
+"No! No! Not the same thing at all. I doubt if he'd come. And what would
+I be doing here--waiting--without news. I couldn't endure it. I must go
+to him."
+
+Stonor thought hard. Youth was pulling him one way, and his sense of
+responsibility the other. Moreover, this kind of case was not provided
+for in regulations. Finally he said:
+
+"Couldn't you announce your intention of remaining over for one trip of
+the steamboat? Miss Pringle would be glad to have you, I'm sure."
+
+"I could do that. But you're not going to delay the start?"
+
+"We can leave the day after the boat goes, as planned. But if we were
+missed before the boat left she'd carry out some great scandalous tale
+that we might never be able to correct. For if scandal gets a big enough
+start you can never overtake it."
+
+"You are right, of course. I never thought of that."
+
+"Then I see no objection to leaving the post secretly, provided you are
+willing to tell one reliable person in advance--say Pringle or his
+sister, of our intention. You see we must leave someone behind us to
+still the storm of gossip that will be let loose."
+
+"You think of everything!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE FIRST STAGE
+
+
+For two days Stonor went about his preparations with an air of dogged
+determination. It seemed to him that all the light had gone out of his
+life, and hope was dead. He told himself that the proposed trip could
+not be otherwise than the stiffest kind of an ordeal to a man in his
+position, an ordeal calling for well-nigh superhuman self-control. How
+gladly would he have given it up, had he not given his word.
+
+And then on the third day his spirits unaccountably began to rise. As a
+matter of fact youthful spirits must seek their natural level no less
+surely than water, but Stonor was angry with himself, accusing himself
+of lightheadedness, inconstancy and what not. His spirits continued to
+rise just the same. There was a delight in providing everything possible
+for her comfort. The mere thought of going away with her, under any
+circumstances whatsoever, made his heart sing.
+
+John Gaviller was astonished by the size and variety of his requisition
+for supplies. Besides the customary rations Stonor included all the
+luxuries the store afforded: viz., tinned fish, vegetables and fruit;
+condensed milk, marmalade and cocoa. And in quantities double what he
+would ordinarily have taken.
+
+"Getting luxurious in your old age, aren't you?" said the trader.
+
+"Oh, I'm tired of an unrelieved diet of bannock and beans," said Stonor,
+with a carelessness so apparent, they ought to have been warned; but of
+course they never dreamed of anything so preposterous as the truth.
+
+Stonor had two horses of his own. He engaged three more from Simon
+Grampierre, horses that he knew, and from Tole Grampierre purchased a
+fine rabbit-skin robe for Clare's bed on the trail. Tole, who had
+secretly hoped to be taken on this expedition, was much disappointed
+when no invitation was forthcoming. Stonor arranged with Tole to ride to
+meet him with additional supplies on the date when he might expect to be
+returning. Tole was to leave Enterprise on July 12th.
+
+From Father Goussard Stonor borrowed a mosquito tent on the plea that
+his own was torn. He smuggled a folding camp-cot into his outfit. Clare
+fortunately had brought suitable clothes for the most part. How well
+Stonor was to know that little suit cut like a boy's with Norfolk jacket
+and divided skirt! What additional articles she needed Miss Pringle
+bought at the store for a mythical destitute Indian boy. They had soon
+found it necessary to take Miss Pringle into their confidence. She went
+about charged with the secret like a soda-water-bottle with the cork
+wired down.
+
+Beside Gordon Strange, the only person around the post who could speak
+the Kakisa tongue was a woman, Mary Moosa, herself a Kakisa who had
+married a Cree. Her husband was a deck-hand on the steamboat. Stonor had
+already engaged Mary Moosa to take this trip with him as interpreter,
+and Mary, who had her own notions of propriety, had stipulated that her
+oldest boy be taken along. Mary herself promised to be a godsend on the
+trip; for she was just the comfortable dependable soul to look after
+Clare, but the boy now became a problem, for the dug-out that Stonor
+designed to use on the Swan River would only carry three persons
+comfortably, with the necessary outfit. Yet Stonor could not speak to
+Mary in advance about leaving the boy at home.
+
+Such was Stonor's assiduity that everything was ready for the start two
+days ahead of time--an unheard-of thing up North. Everybody at the post
+gave up a morning to seeing the steamboat off. She carried with her a
+report from Stonor to his inspector, telling of the proposed trip. Clare
+was among those who waved to her from the shore. No surprise had been
+occasioned by the announcement of her decision to remain over a trip.
+Gaviller was already planning further entertainments. She had by this
+time moved down to the Mission with the Pringles.
+
+On the afternoon of that day Stonor transported his goods and swam his
+horses across the river, to be ready for the start from the other side.
+Mary Moosa and her son met him there, and camped beside the outfit for
+the night. Stonor returned to Enterprise House for dinner. He had tried
+to get out of it, knowing that the fact of this dinner would rankle in
+the trader's breast afterwards, but Gaviller had insisted on giving him
+a send-off. It was not a happy affair, for three of the guests were
+wretchedly nervous. They could not help but see in their mind's eye
+Gaviller's expression of indignant astonishment when the news should be
+brought him next day.
+
+Gaviller further insisted on taking everybody down to the shore to see
+Stonor off, thus obliging the trooper to make an extra trip across the
+river and back in order to maintain the fiction. Stonor slept in his own
+camp for an hour, and then rowed down-stream and across, to land in
+front of the Mission.
+
+It is never perfectly dark at this season, and already day was beginning
+to break. Stonor climbed the bank, and showed himself at the top,
+knowing that they would be on the watch from within. The little grey log
+mission-house crouched in its neglected garden behind a fence of broken
+palings. But a touch of regeneration was already visible in Miss
+Pringle's geranium slips in the windows, and her bits of white curtain.
+
+The door was silently opened, and the two women kissed in the entry.
+Stonor was never to forget that picture in the still grey light. Clare,
+clad in the little Norfolk suit and the boy's stout boots and hat,
+crossed the yard with the little mincing steps so characteristic of her,
+and therefore so charming to the man who waited. Her face was pale, her
+eyes bright. Miss Pringle stood in the doorway, massive and tearful, a
+hand pressed to her mouth.
+
+Stonor's breast received a surprising wrench. "It's like an elopement!"
+he thought. "Ah, if she _were_ coming to me!"
+
+She smiled at him without speaking, and handed over her bag. Stonor
+closed the gate softly, and they made their way down the bank, and got
+in the boat.
+
+It was a good, stiff pull back against the current. They spoke little.
+Clare studied his grim face with some concern.
+
+"Regrets?" she asked.
+
+He rested on his oars for a moment and his face softened. He smiled at
+her frankly--and ruefully. "No regrets," he said, "but a certain amount
+of anxiety."
+
+His glance conveyed a good deal more than that--in spite of him. "I love
+you with all my heart. Of course I clearly understand that you have
+nothing for me. I am prepared to see this thing through, no matter what
+the end means to me.--But be merciful!" All this was in his look.
+Whether she got it or not, no man could have told. She looked away and
+dabbled her hand in the water.
+
+Mary Moosa was a self-respecting squaw who lived in a house with tables
+and chairs and went to church and washed her children with soap. In her
+plain black cotton dress, the skirt cut very full to allow her to ride
+astride, her new moccasins and her black straw hat she made a figure of
+matronly tidiness if not of beauty. She was cooking when they arrived.
+Her inward astonishment, at beholding Stonor returning with the white
+girl who had created such a sensation at the post, can be guessed; but,
+true to her traditions, she betrayed nothing of it to the whites. After
+a single glance in their direction her gaze returned to the frying-pan.
+
+It was Stonor who was put out of countenance, "Miss Starling is going
+with us," he said, with a heavy scowl.
+
+Mary made no comment on the situation, but continued gravely frying the
+flap-jacks to a delicate golden shade. Her son, aged about fourteen, who
+had less command over his countenance, stood in the background staring,
+with open eyes and mouth. It was a trying moment for Stonor and Clare.
+They discussed the prospects of a good day for the journey in rather
+strained voices.
+
+However, it proved that Mary's silence had neither an unfriendly nor a
+censorious intention. She merely required time to get her breath, so to
+speak. She transferred the flap-jacks from the pan to a plate, and,
+putting them in the ashes to keep hot, arose and came to Clare with
+extended hand.
+
+"How," she said, as she had been taught was manners to all.
+
+Clare took her hand with a right good will.
+
+It suddenly occurred to Mary that there was now no occasion for the boy
+to accompany them. Mary was a woman of few words. "You go home," she
+said calmly.
+
+The boy broke into a howl of grief, proving that the delights of the
+road are much the same to boys, red or white.
+
+"Poor little fellow!" said Clare.
+
+"Too young for travel," said Mary, impassively. "More trouble than
+help."
+
+Clare wished to intercede for him with Stonor, but the trooper shook his
+head.
+
+"No room in the dug-out," he said.
+
+Toma Moosa departed along the shore with his arm over his eyes.
+
+Mary was as good as a man on a trip. While Stonor and Clare ate she
+packed the horses, and Stonor had only to throw the hitch and draw it
+taut. Clare watched this operation with interest.
+
+"They swell up just like babies when you're putting their bands on," she
+remarked.
+
+They were on the move shortly after sunrise, that is to say half-past
+three. As they rode away over the flat, each took a last look at the
+buildings of the post across the river, gilded by the horizontal rays,
+each wondering privately what fortune had in store for them before they
+should see the spot again.
+
+They passed the last little shack and the last patch of grain before
+anybody was astir. When they rode out into the open country everybody's
+spirits rose. There is nothing like taking the trail to lift up the
+heart--and on a June morning in the north! Troubles, heart-aches and
+anxieties were left behind with the houses. Even Mary Moosa beamed in
+her inscrutable way.
+
+Stonor experienced a fresh access of confidence, and proceeded to
+deceive himself all over again. "I'm cured!" he thought. "There's
+nothing to mope about. She's my friend. Anything else is out of the
+question, and I will not think of it again. We'll just be good pals like
+two fellows. You can be a pal with the right kind of girl, and she is
+that.--But better than any fellow, she's so damn good to look at!"
+
+It was a lovely park-like country with graceful, white-stemmed poplars
+standing about on the sward, and dark spruces in the hollows. The grass
+was starred with flowers. When Nature sets out to make a park her style
+has a charming abandon that no landscape-gardener can ever hope to
+capture. After they mounted the low bench the country rolled shallowly,
+flat in the prospect, with a single, long, low eminence, blue athwart
+the horizon ahead.
+
+"That's the divide between the Spirit and the Swan," said Stonor. "We'll
+cross it to-morrow. From here it looks like quite a mountain, but the
+ascent is so gradual we won't know we're over it until we see the water
+flowing the other way."
+
+Clare rode Miles Aroon, Stonor's sorrel gelding, and Stonor rode the
+other police horse, a fine dark bay. These two animals fretted a good
+deal at the necessity of accommodating their pace to the humble pack
+animals. These latter had a stolid inscrutable look like their native
+masters. One in particular looked so respectable and matter-of-fact that
+Clare promptly christened her Lizzie.
+
+Lizzie proved to be a horse of a strong, bourgeois character. If her
+pack was not adjusted exactly to her liking, she calmly sat on her
+haunches in the trail until it was fixed. Furthermore, she insisted on
+bringing up the rear of the cavalcade. If she was put in the middle, she
+simply fell out until the others had passed. In her chosen place she
+proceeded to fall asleep, with her head hanging ever lower and feet
+dragging, while the others went on. Stonor, who knew the horse, let her
+have her way. There was no danger of losing her. When she awoke and
+found herself alone, she would come tearing down the trail, screaming
+for her beloved companions.
+
+Stonor rode at the head of his little company with a leg athwart his
+saddle, so he could hold converse with Clare behind.
+
+Pointing to the trail stretching ahead of them like an endless brown
+ribbon over prairie and through bush, he said: "I suppose trails are the
+oldest things in America. Once thoroughly made they can never be
+effaced--except by the plough. You see, they never can run quite
+straight, though the country may be as flat as your hand, but the width
+never varies; three and a half hands."
+
+Travelling with horses is not all picnicking. Three times a day they
+have to be unpacked and turned out to _graze_, and three times _caught_
+and _packed again_; this in addition to the regular camp routine of
+pitching tents, rustling wood, cooking, etc. Clare announced her
+intention of taking over the cooking, but she found that baking biscuits
+over an open fire in a drizzle of rain, offered a new set of problems to
+the civilized cook, and Mary had to come to her rescue.
+
+During this, their first spell by the trail, Stonor was highly amused to
+watch Clare's way with Mary. She simply ignored Mary's discouraging
+red-skin stolidity, and assumed that they were sisters under their
+skins. She pretended that it was necessary for them to take sides
+against Stonor in order to keep the man in his place. It was not long
+before Mary was grinning broadly. Finally at some low-voiced sally of
+Clare's she laughed outright. Stonor had never heard her laugh before.
+Thereafter she was Clare's. Realizing that the wonderful white girl
+really wished to make friends, Mary offered her a doglike devotion that
+never faltered throughout the difficult days that followed.
+
+They slept throughout the middle part of the day, and later, the sky
+clearing, they rode until near sun-down in order to make a good
+water-hole that Mary knew of. When they had supped and made all snug for
+the night, Stonor let fall the piece of information that Mary was well
+known as a teller of tales at the Post. Clare gave her no peace then
+till she consented to tell a story. They sat in a row behind Stonor's
+little mosquito-bar, for the insects were abroad, with the fire burning
+before them, and Mary began.
+
+"I tell you now how the people got the first medicine-pipe. This story
+is about Thunder. Thunder is everywhere. He roar in the mountains, he
+shout far out on the prairie. He strike the high rocks and they fall. He
+hit a tree and split it like with a big axe. He strike people and they
+die. He is bad. He like to strike down the tall things that stand. He is
+ver' powerful. He is the most strong one. Sometimes he steals women.
+
+"Long tam ago, almost in the beginning, a man and his wife sit in their
+lodge when Thunder come and strike them. The man was not killed. At
+first he is lak dead, but bam-bye he rise up again and look around him.
+His wife not there. He say: 'Oh well, she gone to get wood or water,'
+and he sit awhile. But when the sun had gone under, he go out and ask
+the people where she go. Nobody see her. He look all over camp, but not
+find her. Then he know Thunder steal her, and he go out alone on the
+hills and mak' sorrow.
+
+"When morning come he get up and go far away, and he ask all the animals
+he meet where Thunder live. They laugh and not tell him. Wolf say: 'W'at
+you think! We want go look for the one we fear? He is our danger. From
+others we can run away. From him there is no running. He strike and
+there we lie! Turn back! Go home! Do not look for the place of the
+feared one.'
+
+"But the man travel on. Travel very far. Now he come to a lodge, a funny
+lodge, all made of stone. Here live the raven chief. The man go in.
+
+"Raven chief say: 'Welcome, friend. Sit down. Sit down.' And food was
+put before him.
+
+"When he finish eating, Raven say: 'Why you come here?'
+
+"Man say: 'Thunder steal my wife away. I want find his place so I get
+her back.'
+
+"Raven say: 'I think you be too scare to go in the lodge of that feared
+one. It is close by here. His lodge is made of stone like this, and
+hanging up inside are eyes--all the eyes of those he kill or steal away.
+He take out their eyes and hang them in his lodge. Now, will you enter?'
+
+"Man say: 'No. I am afraid. What man could look on such things of fear
+and live?'
+
+"Raven say: 'No common man can. There is only one old Thunder fears.
+There is only one he cannot kill. It is I, the Raven. Now I will give
+you medicine and he can't harm you. You go enter there, and look among
+those eyes for your wife's eyes, and if you find them, tell that Thunder
+why you come, and make him give them to you. Here now is a raven's wing.
+You point it to him, and he jomp back quick. But if that is not strong
+enough, take this. It is an arrow, and the stick is made of elk-horn.
+Take it, I say, and shoot it through his lodge.'
+
+"Man say: 'Why make a fool of me? My heart is sad. I am crying.' And he
+cover up his head with his blanket and cry.
+
+"Raven say: 'Wah! You do not believe me! Come out, come out, and I make
+you believe!' When they stand outside Raven ask: 'Is the home of your
+people far?'
+
+"Man say: 'Very far!'
+
+"'How many days' journey?'
+
+"Man say: 'My heart is sad. I not count the days. The berries grow and
+get ripe since I leave my lodge.'
+
+"Raven say: 'Can you see your camp from here?'
+
+"Man think that is foolish question and say nothing.
+
+"Then the Raven rub some medicine on his eyes and say: 'Look!' The man
+look and see his own camp. It was close. He see the people. He see the
+smoke rising from the lodges. And at that wonderful thing the man
+believe in the Raven's medicine.
+
+"Then Raven say: 'Now take the wing and the arrow and go get your
+wife.'
+
+"So the man take those things and go to Thunder's lodge. He go in and
+sit down by the door. Thunder sit inside and look at him with eyes of
+lightning. But the man look up and see those many pairs of eyes hanging
+up. And the eyes of his wife look at him, and he know them among all
+those others.
+
+"Thunder ask in a voice that shake the ground: 'Why you come here?'
+
+"Man say: 'I looking for my wife that you steal from me. There hang her
+eyes!'
+
+"Thunder say: 'No man can enter my lodge and live!' He get up to strike
+him. But the man point the raven's wing at him, and Thunder fall back on
+his bed and shiver. But soon he is better, and get up again. Then the
+man put the elk-horn arrow to his bow, and shoot it through the lodge of
+rock. Right through that lodge of rock it make a crooked hole and let
+the sunlight in.
+
+"Thunder cry out: 'Stop! You are stronger! You have the great medicine.
+You can have your wife. Take down her eyes.' So the man cut the string
+that held them, and right away his wife stand beside him.
+
+"Thunder say: 'Now you know me. I have great power. I live here in
+summer, but when winter come I go far south where there is no winter.
+Here is my pipe. It is medicine. Take it and keep it. When I come in
+spring you fill and light this pipe, and you pray to me, you and all the
+people. Because I bring the rain which make the berries big and ripe. I
+bring the rain which make all things grow. So you must pray to me, you
+and all the people.'
+
+"That is how the people got the first medicine-pipe. It was long ago."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mary went to her own little tent, and presently they heard her peaceful
+snoring. The sound had the effect of giving body to the immensity of
+stillness that surrounded them and held them. Sitting beside Clare,
+looking out at the fire through the netting, Stonor felt his safeguards
+slipping fast. There they were, the two of them, to all intents alone in
+the world! How natural for them to draw close, and, while her head
+dropped on his shoulder, for his arm to slip around her slender form and
+hold her tight! He trembled a little, and his mouth went dry. If he had
+been visiting her he could have got out, but he couldn't put her out.
+There was nothing to do but sit tight and fight the thing. Moistening
+his lips, he said:
+
+"It's been a good day on the whole."
+
+"Ah, splendid!" she said. "If one could only hit the trail for ever
+without being obliged to arrive at a destination, and take up the
+burdens of a stationary life!"
+
+Stonor pondered on this answer. It sounded almost as if she dreaded
+coming to the end of her journey.
+
+Out of the breathless dusk came a long-drawn and inexpressibly mournful
+ululation. Clare involuntarily drew a little closer to Stonor. Ah, but
+it was hard to keep from seizing her then!
+
+"Wolves?" she asked in an awe-struck tone.
+
+He shook his head. "Only the wolf's little mongrel brother, coyote," he
+said.
+
+"All my travelling has been done in the mountains," she explained. She
+shivered delicately. "The first night out is always a little terrible,
+isn't it?"
+
+"You're not afraid?" he asked anxiously.
+
+"Not exactly afraid. Just a little quivery."
+
+She got up, and he held up the mosquito-netting for her to pass. Outside
+they instinctively lifted up their faces to the pale stars.
+
+"It's safer and cleaner than a city," said Stonor simply.
+
+"I know." She still lingered for a moment. "What's your name?" she asked
+abruptly.
+
+"Martin."
+
+"Good-night, Martin."
+
+"Good-night!"
+
+Later, rolling on his hard bed, he thought: "She might have given me her
+hand when she said it.--No, you fool! She did right not to! You've got
+to get a grip on yourself. This is only the first day! If you begin like
+this----!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE KAKISAS
+
+
+On the afternoon of the fourth day they suddenly issued out of big
+timber to find themselves at the edge of a plateau overlooking a shallow
+green valley, bare of trees in this place, and bisected by a
+smoothly-flowing brown river bordered with willows. The flat contained
+an Indian village.
+
+"Here we are!" said Stonor, reining up.
+
+"The unexplored river!" cried Clare. "How exciting! But how pretty and
+peaceful it looks, just like an ordinary river. I suppose it doesn't
+realize it's unexplored."
+
+On the other side there was a bold point with a picturesque clump of
+pines shading a number of the odd little gabled structures with which
+the Indians cover the graves of their dead. On the nearer side from off
+to left appeared a smaller stream which wound across the meadow and
+emptied into the Swan. At intervals during the day their trail had
+bordered this little river, which Clare had christened the Meander.
+
+The tepees of the Indian village were strung along its banks, and the
+stream itself was filled with canoes. On a grassy mound to the right
+stood a little log shack which had a curiously impertinent look there in
+the midst of Nature untouched. On the other hand the tepees sprang from
+the ground as naturally as trees.
+
+Their coming naturally had the effect of a thunderclap on the village.
+They had scarcely shown themselves from among the trees when their
+presence was discovered. A chorus of sharp cries was raised, and there
+was much aimless running about like ants when the hill is disturbed. The
+cries did not suggest a welcome, but excitement purely. Men, women, and
+children gathered in a dense little crowd beside the trail where they
+must pass. None wished to put themselves forward. Those who lived on the
+other side of the little stream paddled frantically across to be in time
+for a close view.
+
+As they approached, absolute silence fell on the Indians, the silence of
+breathless excitement. The red-coat they had heard of, and in a general
+way they knew what he signified; but a white woman to them was as
+fabulous a creature as a mermaid or a hamadryad. Their eyes were saved
+for Clare. They fixed on her as hard, bright, and unwinking as jet
+buttons. They conveyed nothing but an animal curiosity. Clare nodded and
+smiled to them in her own way, but no muscle of any face relaxed.
+
+"Their manners will bear improving," muttered Stonor.
+
+"Oh, give them a chance," said Clare. "We've dropped on them out of a
+clear sky."
+
+Some of the tepees were still made of tanned skins decorated with rude
+pictures; they saw bows and arrows and bark-canoes, things which have
+almost passed from America. The dress of the inhabitants was less
+picturesque; some of the older men still wore their picturesque blanket
+capotes, but the younger were clad in machine-made shirts and pants from
+the store, and the women in cotton dresses. They were a pure race, and
+as such presented for the most part fine, characteristic faces; but in
+body they were undersized and weedy, showing that their stock was
+running out.
+
+Stonor led the way across the flat and up a grassy rise to the little
+shack that has been mentioned. It had been built for the Company clerk
+who had formerly traded with the Kakisas, and Stonor designed it to
+accommodate Clare for the night. They dismounted at the door. The
+Indians followed them to within a distance of ten paces, where they
+squatted on their heels or stood still, staring immovably. Stonor
+resented their curiosity. Good manners are much the same the world over,
+and a self-respecting people would not have acted so, he told himself.
+None offered to stir hand or foot to assist them to unpack.
+
+Stonor somewhat haughtily desired the head man to show himself. When one
+stepped forward, he received him sitting in magisterial state on a box
+at the door. Personally the most modest of men, he felt for the moment
+that Authority had to be upheld in him. So the Indian was required to
+stand.
+
+His name was Ahchoogah (as near as a white man could get it) and he was
+about forty years old. Though small and slight like all the Kakisas, he
+had a comely face that somehow suggested race. He was better dressed
+than the majority, in expensive "moleskin" trousers from the store, a
+clean blue gingham shirt, a gaudy red sash, and an antique
+gold-embroidered waistcoat that had originated Heaven knows where. On
+his feet were fine white moccasins lavishly embroidered in coloured
+silks.
+
+"How," he said, the one universal English word. He added a more
+elaborate greeting in his own tongue.
+
+Mary translated. "Ahchoogah say he glad to see the red-coat, like he
+glad to see the river run again after the winter. Where the red-coats
+come there is peace and good feeling among all. No man does bad to
+another man. Ahchoogah hope the red-coat come often to Swan River."
+
+Stonor watched the man's face while he was speaking, and apprehended
+hostility behind the smooth words. He was at a loss to account for it,
+for the police are accustomed to being well received. "There's been some
+bad influence at work here," he thought.
+
+He said grimly to Mary: "Tell him that I hear his good words, but I do
+not see from the faces of his people that we are welcome here."
+
+This was repeated to Ahchoogah, who turned and objurgated his people
+with every appearance of anger.
+
+"What's he saying to them?" Stonor quietly asked Mary.
+
+"Call bad names," said Mary. "Swear Kakisa swears. Tell them go back to
+the tepees and not look like they never saw nothing before."
+
+And sure enough the surrounding circle broke up and slunk away.
+
+Ahchoogah turned a bland face back to the policeman, and through Mary
+politely enquired what had brought him to Swan River.
+
+"I will tell you," said Stonor. "I come bearing a message from the
+mighty White Father across the great water to his Kakisa children. The
+White Father sends a greeting and desires to know if it is the wish of
+the Kakisas to take treaty like the Crees, the Beavers, and other
+peoples to the East. If it is so, I will send word, and my officers and
+the doctor will come next summer with the papers to be signed."
+
+Ahchoogah replied in diplomatic language that so far as his particular
+Kakisas were concerned they thought themselves better off as they were.
+They had plenty to eat most years, and they didn't want to give up the
+right to come and go as they chose. No bad white men coveted their lands
+as yet, and they needed no protection from them. However, he would send
+messengers to his brothers up and down the river, and all would be
+guided by the wishes of the greatest number.
+
+At the beginning of this talk Clare had gone inside to escape the
+piercing stares. While he talked, Ahchoogah was continually trying to
+peer around Stonor to get a glimpse of her. When the diplomatic
+formalities were over, he said (according to Mary):
+
+"I not know you got white wife. Nobody tell me that. She is very
+pretty."
+
+"Tell him she is not my wife," said Stonor, with a portentous scowl to
+hide his blushes. "Tell him--Oh, the devil! he wouldn't understand. Tell
+him her name is Miss Clare Starling."
+
+"What she come for?" Ahchoogah coolly asked.
+
+"Tell him she travels to please herself," said Stonor, letting him make
+what he would of that.
+
+"Ahchoogah say he want shake her by the hand."
+
+Stonor was in a quandary. The thought of the grimy hand touching Clare's
+was detestable yet, if the request had been made in innocence it seemed
+churlish to object. Clare, who overheard, settled the question for him,
+by coming out and offering her hand to the Indian with a smile.
+
+To Mary she said: "Tell him to tell the women of his people that the
+white woman wishes to be their sister."
+
+Ahchoogah stared at her with a queer mixture of feelings. He was much
+taken aback by her outspoken, unafraid air. He had expected to despise
+her, as he had been taught to despise all women, but somehow she struck
+respect into his soul. He resented it: he had taken pleasure in the
+prospect of despising something white.
+
+Clare went back into the shack. Ahchoogah, with a shrug, dismissed her
+from his mind. He spoke again with his courteous air; meanwhile (or at
+any rate so Stonor thought) his black eyes glittered with hostility.
+
+Mary translated: "Ahchoogah say all very glad you come. He say to-morrow
+night he going to give big tea-dance. He send for the Swan Lake people
+to come. A man will ride all night to bring them in time. He say it will
+be a big time."
+
+"Say we thank him for the big time just as if we had had it," said
+Stonor, not to be outdone in politeness. "But we must go on down the
+river to-morrow morning."
+
+When this was translated to Ahchoogah, he lost his self-possession for a
+moment, and scowled blackly at Stonor. Quickly recovering himself, he
+began suavely to protest.
+
+"Ahchoogah say the messenger of the Great White Father mustn't go up and
+down the river to the Kakisas and ask like a poor man for them to take
+treaty. Let him stay here, and let the poor Kakisas come to him and make
+respect."
+
+"My instructions are to visit the people where they live," said Stonor
+curtly. "I shall want the dug-out that the Company man left here last
+Spring."
+
+Ahchoogah scowled again. Mary translated: "Ahchoogah say, why you want
+heavy dug-out when he got plenty nice light bark-canoes."
+
+"I can't use bark-canoes in the rapids."
+
+A startled look shot out of the Indian's eyes. Mary translated: "What
+for you want go down rapids? No Kakisas live below the rapids."
+
+"I'm going to visit the white man at the Great Falls."
+
+When Ahchoogah got this he bent the look of a pure savage on Stonor,
+walled and inscrutable. He sullenly muttered something that Mary
+repeated as: "No can go."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Nobody ever go down there."
+
+"Well, somebody's got to be the first to go."
+
+"Rapids down there no boat can pass."
+
+"The white man came up to the Indians when they were sick last fall. If
+he can come up I can go down."
+
+"He got plenty strong medicine."
+
+Stonor laughed. "Well, I venture to say that my medicine is as strong as
+his--in the rapids."
+
+Ahchoogah raised a whole cloud of objections. "Plenty white-face bear
+down there. Big as a horse. Kill man while he sleeps. Wolf down there.
+Run in packs as many as all the Kakisas. Him starving this year."
+
+"Women's talk!" said Stonor contemptuously.
+
+"You get carry over those falls. Behind those falls is a great pile of
+white bones. It is the bones of all the men and beasts that were carried
+over in the past. Those falls have no voice to warn you above. The water
+slip over so smooth and soft you not know there is any falls till you go
+over."
+
+"Tell Ahchoogah he cannot scare white men with such tales. Tell him to
+bring me the dug-out to the river-shore below here."
+
+Ahchoogah muttered sulkily. Mary translated: "Ahchoogah say got no
+dug-out. Man take it up to Swan Lake."
+
+"Very well, then; I'll take two bark-canoes and carry around the
+rapids."
+
+He still objected. "If you take our canoes, how we going to hunt and
+fish for our families?"
+
+"You offered me the canoes!" cried Stonor wrathfully.
+
+"I forget then that every man got only one canoe."
+
+Stonor stood up in his majesty; Ahchoogah was like a pigmy before him.
+"Tell him to go!" cried the policeman. "His mouth is full of lies and
+bad talk. Tell him to have the dug-out or the two canoes here by
+to-morrow morning or I'll come and take them!"
+
+The Indian now changed his tone, and endeavoured to soften the
+policeman's anger, but Stonor turned on his heel and entered the shack.
+Ahchoogah went away down-hill with a crestfallen air.
+
+"What do you make of it all?" Clare asked anxiously.
+
+Stonor spoke lightly. "Well, it's clear they don't want us to go down
+the river, but what their reasons are I couldn't pretend to say. They
+may have some sort of idea that for us to explode the mystery of the
+river and the white medicine man whom they regard as their own would be
+to lower their prestige as a tribe. It's hard to say. It's almost
+impossible to get at their real reasons, and when you do, they generally
+seem childish to us. I don't think it's anything we need bother our
+heads about."
+
+"I was watching him," said Clare. "He didn't seem to me like a bad man
+so much as like a child who's got some wrong idea in his head."
+
+"That's my idea too," said Stonor. "One feels somehow that there's been
+a bad influence at work lately. But what influence could reach away out
+here? It beats me! Their White Medicine Man ought to have done them
+good."
+
+"He couldn't do them otherwise than good--so far as they would listen to
+him," she said quickly.
+
+They hastily steered away from this uncomfortable subject.
+
+"Maybe Mary can help us," said Stonor. "Mary, go among your people and
+talk to them. Give them good talk. Let them understand that we have no
+object but to be their friends. If there is a good reason why we
+shouldn't go down the river let them speak it plainly. But this talk of
+danger and magic simply makes white men laugh."
+
+Mary dutifully took her way down to the tepees. She returned in time to
+get supper--but threw no further light on the mystery.
+
+"What about it, Mary?" asked Stonor.
+
+"Don't go down the river," she said earnestly. "Plenty bad trip, I
+think. I 'fraid for her. She can't paddle a canoe in the rapids nor
+track up-stream. What if we capsize and lose our grub? Don't go!"
+
+"Didn't the Kakisas give you any better reasons than that?"
+
+Mary was doggedly silent.
+
+"Ah, have they won you away from us too?"
+
+This touched the red woman. Her face worked painfully. She did her best
+to explain. "Kakisas my people," she said. "Maybe you think they foolish
+people. All right. Maybe they are not a wise and strong people like the
+old days. But they my people just the same. I can't tell white men their
+things."
+
+"She's right," put in Clare quickly. "Don't ask her any more."
+
+"Well, what do you think?" he asked. "Do you not wish to go any
+further?"
+
+"Yes! Yes!" she cried. "I must go on!"
+
+"Very good," he said grimly. "We'll start to-morrow."
+
+"I not go," said Mary stolidly. "My people mad at me if I go."
+
+Here was a difficulty! Stonor and Clare looked at each other blankly.
+
+"What the devil----!" began the policeman.
+
+"Hush! leave her to me," said Clare, urging him out of the shack.
+
+By and by she rejoined him outside. "She'll come," she said briefly.
+
+"What magic did you use?"
+
+"No magic. Just woman talk."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ON THE RIVER
+
+
+Next morning they saw the dug-out pulled up on the shore below their
+camp.
+
+"The difference between a red man and a white man," said Stonor grimly,
+"is that a red man doesn't mind being caught in a lie after the occasion
+for it has passed, but a white man will spend half the rest of his life
+trying to justify himself."
+
+He regarded the craft dubiously. It was an antique affair, grey as an
+old badger, warped and seamed by the sun and rotten in the bottom. But
+it had a thin skin of sound wood on the outside, and on the whole it
+seemed better suited to their purpose than the bark-canoes used by the
+Kakisas.
+
+As they carried their goods down and made ready to start the Indians
+gathered around and watched with glum faces. None offered to help. It
+must have been a trying situation for Mary Moosa. When Stonor was out of
+hearing they did not spare her. She bore it with her customary stoicism.
+Ahchoogah, less honest than the rank and file, sought to commend himself
+to the policeman by a pretence of friendliness. Stonor, beyond telling
+him that he would hold him responsible for the safety of the horses
+during his absence, ignored him.
+
+Having stowed their outfit, they gingerly got in. Their boat, though
+over twenty feet long, was only about fifteen inches beam, and of the
+log out of which she had been fashioned she still retained the tendency
+to roll over. Mary took the bow paddle, and Stonor the stern; Clare sat
+amidships facing the policeman.
+
+"If we can only keep on top until we get around the first bend we'll
+save our dignity, anyhow," said Stonor.
+
+They pushed off without farewells. When they rounded the first point of
+willows and passed out of sight of the crowd of lowering, dark faces,
+they felt relieved. Stonor was able to drop the port of august
+policeman.
+
+Said he: "I'm going to call this craft the Serpent. She's got a fair
+twist on her. Her head is pointed to port and her tail to starboard. It
+takes a mathematical deduction to figure out which way she's going."
+
+Clare was less ready than usual to answer his jokes. She was pale, and
+there was a hint of strain in her eyes.
+
+"You're not bothered about Ahchoogah's imaginary terrors, are you?" he
+asked.
+
+She shook her head. "Not that."
+
+He wondered what it was then, but did not like to ask directly. It
+suddenly struck him that she had been steadily losing tone since the
+first day on the trail.
+
+Her next words showed the direction her thoughts were taking. "You said
+it was two hundred miles down the river. How long do you think it will
+take us to make it?"
+
+"Three days and a bit, if my guess as to the distance is right. We have
+the current to help us, and now we don't have to stop for the horses to
+graze."
+
+"They will be hard days to put in," she said simply.
+
+Stonor pondered for a long time on what she meant by this. Was she so
+consumed by impatience to arrive that the dragging hours were a torture
+to her? or was it simply the uncertainty of what awaited her, and a
+longing to have it over with? That she had been eager for the journey
+was clear, but it had not seemed like a joyful eagerness. He was aware
+that there was something here he did not understand. Women had
+unfathomable souls anyway.
+
+As far as he was concerned he frankly dreaded the outcome of the
+journey. How was he to bear himself at the meeting of this divided
+couple? He could not avoid being a witness of it. He must hand her over
+with a smile, he supposed, and make a graceful get-away. But suppose he
+were prevented from leaving immediately. Or suppose, as was quite
+likely, that they wished to return with him! He ground his teeth at the
+thought of such an ordeal. Would he be able to carry it off? He must!
+
+"What's the matter?" Clare asked suddenly. She had been studying his
+face.
+
+"Why did you ask?"
+
+"You looked as if you had a sudden pain."
+
+"I had," he said, with a rueful smile. "My knees. It's so long since I
+paddled that they're not limbered up yet."
+
+She appeared not altogether satisfied with this explanation.
+
+This part of the river showed a succession of long smooth reaches with
+low banks of a uniform height bordered with picturesque ragged
+jack-pines, tall, thin, and sharply pointed. Here and there, where the
+composition seemed to require it, a perfect island was planted in the
+brown flood. At the foot of the pines along the edge of each bank grew
+rows of berry bushes as regularly as if set out by a gardener. Already
+the water was receding as a result of the summer drouth, but, as fast as
+it fell, the muddy beach left at the foot of each bank was mantled with
+the tender green of goose-grass, a diminutive cousin of the tropical
+bamboo. Mile after mile the character of the stream showed no variance.
+It was like a noble corridor through the pines.
+
+At intervals during the day they met a few Kakisas, singly or in pairs,
+in their beautifully-made little birch-bark canoes. These individuals,
+when they came upon them suddenly, almost capsized in their astonishment
+at beholding pale-faces on their river. No doubt, in the tepees behind
+the willows, the coming of the whites had long been foretold as a
+portent of dreadful things.
+
+They displayed their feelings according to their various natures. The
+first they met, a solitary youth, was frankly terrified. He hastened
+ashore, the water fairly cascading from his paddle, and, squatting
+behind the bushes, peered through at them like an animal. The next pair
+stood their ground, clinging to an overhanging willow--too startled to
+escape perhaps--where they stared with goggling eyes, and visibly
+trembled. It gave Stonor and Clare a queer sense of power thus to have
+their mere appearance create so great an excitement. Nothing could be
+got out of these two; they would not even answer questions from Mary in
+their own tongue.
+
+The fourth Kakisa, however, an incredibly ragged and dirty old man with
+a dingy cotton fillet around his snaky locks, hailed them with wild
+shouts of laughter, paddled to meet them, and clung to the dug-out,
+fondly stroking Stonor's sleeve. The sight of Clare caused him to go off
+into fresh shrieks of good-natured merriment. His name, he informed
+them, was Lookoovar, or so they understood it. He had a stomach-ache, he
+said, and wished for some of the white man's wonderful stomach-warming
+medicine of which he had heard.
+
+"It seems that our principal claim to fame up here is whisky," said
+Stonor.
+
+He gave the old man a pill. Lookoovar swallowed it eagerly, but looked
+disappointed at the absence of immediate results.
+
+All these men were hunting their dinners. Close to the shore they
+paddled softly against the current, or drifted silently down, searching
+the bushes with their keen flat eyes for the least stir. Since
+everything had to come down to the river sooner or later to drink, they
+could have had no better point of vantage. Every man had a gun in his
+canoe, but ammunition is expensive on the Swan River, and for small fry,
+musk-rat, duck, fool-hen, or rabbit, they still used the prehistoric bow
+and arrow.
+
+"The Swan River is like the Kakisas' Main Street," said Stonor. "All day
+they mosey up and down looking in the shop-windows for bargains in
+feathers and furs."
+
+They camped for the night on a cleared point occupied by the bare poles
+of several tepees. The Indians left these poles standing at all the best
+sites along the river, ready to use the next time they should spell that
+way. They frequently left their caches too, that is to say, spare gear,
+food and what-not, trustfully hanging from near-by branches in
+birch-bark containers. The Kakisas even tote water in bark pails.
+
+Next day the character of the river changed. It now eddied around
+innumerable short bends right and left with an invariable regularity,
+each bend so like the last they lost all track of the distance they had
+come. Its course was as regularly crooked as a crimping-iron. On each
+bend it ate under the bank on the outside, and deposited a bar on the
+inside. On one side the pines toppled into the water as their footing
+was undermined, while poplars sprang up on the other side in the
+newly-made ground.
+
+On the afternoon of this day they suddenly came upon the village of
+which they had been told. It fronted on a little lagoon behind one of
+the sand-bars. This was the village where Imbrie was said to have cured
+the Kakisas of measles. At present most of the inhabitants were pitching
+off up and down the river, and there were only half a dozen covered
+tepees in sight, but the bare poles of many others showed the normal
+extent of the village.
+
+The usual furore of excitement was caused by their unheralded appearance
+around the bend. For a moment the Indians completely lost their heads,
+and there was a mad scurry for the tepees. Some mothers dragged their
+screaming offspring into the bush for better shelter. Only one or two of
+the bravest among the men dared show themselves. But with true savage
+volatility they recovered from their panic as suddenly as they had been
+seized. One by one they stole to the edge of the bank, where they stood
+staring down at the travellers, with their shoe-button eyes empty of all
+human expression.
+
+Stonor had no intention of landing here. He waited with the nose of the
+Serpent resting in the mud until the excitement died down. Then, through
+Mary, he requested speech with the head man.
+
+A bent old man tottered down the bank with the aid of a staff. He wore a
+dirty blanket capote--and a bicycle cap! He faced them, his head wagging
+with incipient palsy, and his dim eyes looking out bleared, indifferent,
+and jaded. Sparse grey hairs decorated his chin. It was a picture of age
+without reverence.
+
+"How dreadful to grow old in a tepee!" murmured Clare.
+
+The old man was accompanied by a comely youth with bold eyes, his
+grandson, according to Mary. The elder's name was Ahcunazie, the boy's
+Ahteeah.
+
+Stonor, in the name of the Great White Father, harangued the chief in a
+style similar to that he had used with Ahchoogah. Ahcunazie appeared
+dazed and incapable of replying, so Stonor said:
+
+"Talk with your people and find out what all desire. I will return in a
+week for your answer."
+
+When this was translated the young man spoke up sharply. Mary said:
+"Ahteeah say, What for you want go down the river?"
+
+Stonor said: "To see the white man," and watched close to see how they
+would take it.
+
+The scene in the other village was almost exactly repeated. Ahteeah
+brought up all the reasons he could think of that would be likely to
+dissuade Stonor. Other men, hearing what was going forward, came down to
+support the boy. Stonor's boat was rotten, they pointed out, and the
+waves in the rapids ran as high as a man. With vivid gestures they
+illustrated what would happen to the dug-out in the rapids. If he
+escaped the rapids he would surely be carried over the Falls; and if he
+wasn't, how did he expect to get back up the rapids? And so on.
+
+Old Ahcunazie stood through it all uncomprehending and indifferent. He
+was too old even to betray any interest in the phenomenon of the white
+woman.
+
+One thing new the whites marked: "White Medicine Man don' like white
+men. He say if white men come he goin' away." This suggested a possible
+reason for the Indian's opposition.
+
+Stonor still remaining unmoved, Ahteeah brought out as a clincher:
+"White Medicine Man not home now."
+
+Stonor and Clare looked at each other startled. This would be a calamity
+after having travelled all that way. "Where is he?" Stonor demanded.
+
+The young Indian, delighted at his apparent success, answered glibly:
+"He say he goin' down to Great Buffalo Lake this summer."
+
+An instant's reflection satisfied Stonor that if this were true it would
+have been brought out first instead of last. "Oh, well, since we've come
+as far as this we'll go the rest of the way to make sure," he said
+calmly.
+
+Ahteeah looked disappointed. They pushed off. The Indians watched them
+go in sullen silence.
+
+"Certainly we are not popular in this neighbourhood," said Stonor
+lightly. "One can't get rid of the feeling that their minds have been
+poisoned against us. Mary, can't you tell me why they give me such black
+looks?"
+
+She shook her head. "I think there is something," she said. "But they
+not tell me because I with you."
+
+"Maybe it has something to do with me?" said Clare.
+
+"How could that be? They never heard of you."
+
+"I think it is Stonor," said Mary.
+
+Clare was harder to rouse out of herself to-day. Stonor did his best not
+to show that he perceived anything amiss, and strove to cheer her with
+chaff and foolishness--likewise to keep his own heart up, but not
+altogether with success.
+
+On one occasion Clare sought to reassure him by saying, _a propos_ of
+nothing that had gone before: "The worst of having an imagination is,
+that when you have anything to go through with, it keeps presenting the
+most horrible alternatives in advance until you are almost incapable of
+facing the thing. And after all it is never so bad as your imagination
+pictures."
+
+"I understand that," said Stonor, "though I don't suppose anybody would
+accuse me of being imaginative."
+
+"'Something to go through with!'" he thought. "'Horrible alternatives!'
+'Never so bad as your imagination pictures!' What strange phrases for a
+woman to use who is going to rejoin her husband!"
+
+When they embarked after the second spell Clare asked if she might sit
+facing forward in the dug-out, so she could see better where they were
+going. But Stonor guessed this was merely an excuse to escape from
+having his solicitous eyes on her face.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next morning they overtook the last Kakisa that they were to see on the
+way down. He was drifting along close to the shore, and behind him in
+his canoe sat his little boy as still as a mouse, receiving his
+education in hunter's lore. This man was a more intelligent specimen
+than they had met hitherto. He was a comely little fellow with an
+extraordinary head of hair cut _a la_ Buster Brown, and his name, he
+said, was Etzooah. Stonor remembered having heard of him and his hair as
+far away as Fort Enterprise. His manners were good. While naturally
+astonished at their appearance, he did not on that account lose his
+self-possession. They conversed politely while drifting down side by
+side.
+
+Etzooah, in sharp contrast to all the other Kakisas, appeared to see
+nothing out of the way in their wish to visit the White Medicine Man,
+nor did he try to dissuade them.
+
+"How far is it to the Great Falls?" asked Stonor.
+
+"One sleep."
+
+"Are the rapids too bad for a boat?"
+
+"Rapids bad, but not too bad. I go down in my bark-canoe, I guess you go
+all right in dug-out. Long tam ago my fat'er tell me all the Kakisa
+people go to the Big Falls ev'ry year at the time when the berries ripe.
+By the Big Falls they meet the people from Great Buffalo Lake and make
+big talk there and make dance to do honour to the Old Man under the
+falls. And this people trade leather for fur with the people from Great
+Buffalo Lake. But now this people is scare to go there. But I am not
+scare. I go there. Three times I go there. Each time I leave a little
+present of tobacco for the Old Man so he know my heart is good towards
+him. I guess Old Man like a brave man better than a woman. No harm come
+to me since I go. My wife, my children got plenty to eat; I catch good
+fur. Bam-bye I take my boy there too. Some men say I crazy for that, but
+I say no. It is a fine sight. It make a man's heart big to see that
+sight."
+
+This was a man after Stonor's own heart. "Tell him those are good
+words," he said heartily.
+
+When they asked him about the White Man who lived beside the falls,
+Etzooah's eyes sparkled. "He say he my friend, and I proud. Since he say
+that I think more of myself. I walk straight. I am not afraid. He is
+good. He make the sick well. He give the people good talk. He tell how
+to live clean and all, so there is no more sickness. He moch like
+children. He good to my boy. Give him little face that say 'Ticky-ticky'
+and follow the sun."
+
+Etzooah issued a command to his small son, and the boy shyly exhibited a
+large cheap nickel watch.
+
+"No other Kakisa man or boy got that," said the parent proudly.
+
+"Is it true that this white man hates other white men?" asked Stonor.
+
+Etzooah made an emphatic negative. "He got no hate. He say red man white
+man all the same man."
+
+"Then he'll be glad to see us?"
+
+"I think he glad. Got good heart to all."
+
+"Is he at home now?"
+
+"He is at home. I see him go down the river three sleeps ago."
+
+Those in the dug-out exchanged looks of astonishment. "Ask him if he is
+sure?" said Stonor.
+
+Etzooah persisted in his statement. "I not speak him for cause I hiding
+in bush watchin' bear. And he is across the river. But I see good. See
+white face. I know him because he not paddle like Kakisa one side other
+side; him paddle all time same side and turn the paddle so to make go
+straight."
+
+"Where had he been?"
+
+"Up to Horse Track, I guess."
+
+Horse Track, of course, was the trail from the river to Fort Enterprise.
+The village at the end of the trail received the same designation. If
+the tale of this visit was true it might have something to do with the
+hostility they had met with above.
+
+"But we have just come from the Horse Track," said Stonor, to feel the
+man out. "Nobody told us he had been there."
+
+Etzooah shrugged. "Maybe they scare. Not know what to say to white man."
+
+But Stonor thought, if anything, they had known too well what to say.
+"How long had he been up there?" he asked.
+
+"I not know. I not know him gone up river till see him come back."
+
+"Maybe he only went a little way up."
+
+Etzooah shook his head vigorously. "His canoe was loaded heavy."
+
+Etzooah accompanied them to the point where the current began to
+increase its pace preparatory to the first rapid.
+
+"This the end my hunting-ground," he said. "Too much work to come back
+up the rapids." He saluted them courteously, and caused the little boy
+to do likewise. His parting remark was: "Tell the White Medicine Man
+Etzooah never forget he call him friend."
+
+"Well, we've found one gentleman among the Kakisas," Stonor said to
+Clare, as they paddled on.
+
+The first rapid was no great affair. There was plenty of water, and they
+were carried racing smoothly down between low rocky banks. Stonor named
+the place the Grumbler from the deep throaty sound it gave forth.
+
+In quiet water below they discussed what they had heard.
+
+"It gets thicker and thicker," said Stonor. "It seems to me that
+Imbrie's having been at the Horse Track lately must have had something
+to do with the chilly reception we received."
+
+"Why should it?" said Clare. "He has nothing to fear from the coming of
+anybody."
+
+"Then why did they say nothing about his visit?"
+
+She shook her head. "You know I cannot fathom these people."
+
+"Neither can I, for that matter. But it does seem as if he must have
+told them not to tell anybody they had seen him."
+
+"It is not like him."
+
+"Ahteeah said Imbrie hated white men; Etzooah said his heart was kind to
+all men: which is the truer description?"
+
+"Etzooah's," she said instantly. "He has a simple, kind heart. He lives
+up to the rule 'Love thy neighbour' better than any man I ever knew."
+
+"Well, we'll know to-morrow," said Stonor, making haste to drop the
+disconcerting subject. Privately he asked himself: "Why, if Imbrie is
+such a good man, does she seem to dread meeting him?" There was no
+answer forthcoming.
+
+The rapids became progressively wilder and rougher as they went on down,
+and Stonor was not without anxiety as to the coming back. Sometimes they
+came on white water unexpectedly around a bend, but the river was not so
+crooked now, and more often far ahead they saw the white rabbits dancing
+in the sunshine, causing their breasts to constrict with a foretaste of
+fear. As the current bore them inexorably closer, and they picked out
+the rocks and the great white combers awaiting them, there was always a
+moment when they longed to turn aside from their fate. But once having
+plunged into the welter, fear vanished, and a great exhilaration took
+its place. They shouted madly to each other--even stolid Mary, and were
+sorry when they came to the bottom. Between rapids the smooth stretches
+seemed insufferably tedious to pass.
+
+Stonor's endeavour was to steer a middle course between the great
+billows in the middle of the channel, which he feared might swamp the
+Serpent or break her in half, and the rocks at each side which would
+have smashed her to pieces. Luckily he had had a couple of days in which
+to learn the vagaries of his craft. In descending a swift current one
+has to bear in mind that any boat begins to answer her helm some yards
+ahead of the spot where the impulse is applied.
+
+As the day wore on he bethought himself that "one sleep" was an elastic
+term of distance, and in order to avoid the possibility of being carried
+over the falls he adopted the rule of landing at the head of each rapid,
+and walking down the shore to pick his channel, and to make sure that
+there was smooth water below. They had been told that there was no rapid
+immediately above the falls, that the water slipped over without giving
+warning, but Stonor dismissed this into the limbo of red-skin romancing.
+He did not believe it possible for a river to go over a fall without
+some preliminary disturbance.
+
+As it happened, dusk descended on them in the middle of a smooth reach,
+and they made camp for the last time on the descent, pitching the three
+tents under the pines in the form of a little square open on the river
+side. Clare was very silent during the meal, and Stonor's gaiety sounded
+hollow in his own ears. They turned in immediately after eating.
+
+Stonor awoke in the middle of the night without being able to tell what
+had awakened him. He had a sense that something was wrong. It was a
+breathless cool night. Under the pines it was very dark, but outside of
+their shadow the river gleamed wanly. Such sounds as he heard, the
+murmur of a far-off rapid, and a whisper in the topmost boughs of the
+pines, conveyed a suggestion of empty immeasurable distances. The fire
+had burned down to its last embers.
+
+Suddenly he became aware of what was the matter; Clare was weeping. It
+was the merest hint of a sound, softer than falling leaves, just a catch
+of the breath that escaped her now and then. Stonor lay listening with
+bated breath, as if terrified of losing that which tore his heartstrings
+to hear. He was afflicted with a ghastly sense of impotence. He had no
+right to intrude on her grief. Yet how could he lie supine when she was
+in trouble, and make believe not to hear? He could not lie still. He got
+up, taking no care to be quiet, and built up the fire. She could not
+know, of course, that he had heard that broken breath. Perhaps she would
+speak to him. Or, if she could not speak, perhaps she would take comfort
+from the mere fact of his waking presence outside.
+
+He heard no further sound from her tent.
+
+After a while, because it was impossible for him not to say it, he
+softly asked: "Are you asleep?"
+
+There was no answer.
+
+He sat down by the fire listening and brooding--humming a little tune
+meanwhile to assure her of the blitheness of his spirits.
+
+By and by a small voice issued from under her tent: "Please go back to
+bed,"--and he knew at once that she saw through his poor shift to
+deceive her.
+
+"Honest, I don't feel like sleeping," he said cheerfully.
+
+"Did I wake you?"
+
+"No," he lied. "Were you up?"
+
+"You were worrying about me," she said.
+
+"Nothing to speak of. I thought perhaps the silence and the solitude had
+got on your nerves a little. It's that kind of a night."
+
+"I don't mind it," she said; "with you near--and Mary," she quickly
+added. "Please go back to bed."
+
+He crept to her tent. It was purely an involuntary act. He was on his
+knees, but he did not think of that. "Ah, Clare, if I could only take
+your trouble from you!" he murmured.
+
+"Hush!" she whispered. "Put me and my troubles out of your head. It is
+nothing. It is like the rapids; one loses one's nerve when they loom up
+ahead. I shall be all right when I am in them."
+
+"Clare, let me sit here on the ground beside you--not touching you."
+
+"No--please! Go back to your tent. It will be easier for me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the morning they arose heavily, and set about the business of
+breakfasting and breaking camp with little speech. Indeed, there was
+nothing to say. Neither Stonor nor Clare could make believe now to be
+otherwise than full of dread of what the day had in store. Embarking,
+Clare took a paddle too, and all three laboured doggedly, careless alike
+of rough water and smooth.
+
+In the middle of the day they heard, for some minutes before the place
+itself hove in view, the roar of a rapid greater than any they had
+passed.
+
+"This will be something!" said Stonor.
+
+But as they swept around the bend above they never saw the rapid, for
+among the trees on the bank at the beginning of the swift water there
+stood a little new log shack. That sight struck them like a blow. There
+was no one visible outside the shack, but the door stood open.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE LOG SHACK
+
+
+It struck them as odd that no one appeared out of the shack. For a man
+living beside a river generally has his eye unconsciously on the stream,
+just as a man who dwells by a lonely road lets few pass by unseen.
+Stonor sent him a hail, as is the custom of the country--but no
+surprised glad face showed itself.
+
+"He is away," said Stonor, merely to break the racking silence between
+him and Clare.
+
+"Would he leave the door open?" she said.
+
+They landed. On the beach lay two birch-bark canoes, Kakisa-made. One
+had freshly-cut willow-branches lying in the bottom. Stonor happened to
+notice that the bow-thwart of this canoe was notched in a peculiar way.
+He was to remember it later. Ordinarily the Kakisa canoes are as like as
+peas out of the same pod.
+
+From the beach the shack was invisible by reason of the low bank
+between. Stonor accompanied Clare half-way up the bank. "Mary and I will
+wait here," he said.
+
+She looked at him deeply without speaking. It had the effect of a
+farewell. Stonor saw that she was breathing fast, and that her lips were
+continually closing and parting again. Leaving him, she walked slowly
+and stiffly to the door of the shack. Her little hands were clenched. He
+waited, suffering torments of anxiety for her.
+
+She knocked on the door-frame, and waited. She pushed the door further
+open, and looked in. She went in, and was gone for a few seconds.
+Reappearing, she shook her head at Stonor. He went up and joined her.
+Mary, who, in spite of her stolidity, was as inquisitive as the next
+woman, followed him without being bid.
+
+They all entered the shack. Stonor sniffed.
+
+"What is that smell?" asked Clare. "I noticed it at once."
+
+"Kinni-kinnick."
+
+She looked at him enquiringly.
+
+"Native substitute for tobacco. It's made from the inner bark of the red
+willow. He must have run out of white man's tobacco."
+
+She pointed to a can standing on the table. Stonor, lifting it, found it
+nearly full.
+
+"Funny he should smoke kinni-kinnick when he has Kemble's mixture. He
+must be saving that for a last resort."
+
+Stonor looked around him with a strong curiosity. The room had a grace
+that was astonishing to find in that far-removed spot; moreover,
+everything had been contrived out of the rough materials at hand. Two
+superb black bear-skins lay on the floor. The bed which stood against
+the back wall was hidden under a beautiful robe made out of scores of
+little skins cunningly sewed together, lynx-paws with a border of
+marten. There were two workmanlike chairs fashioned out of willow; one
+with a straight back at the desk, the other, comfortable and capacious,
+before the fire. The principal piece of furniture was a birch desk or
+table, put together with infinite patience with no other tools but an
+axe and a knife, and rubbed with oil to a satiny finish. On it stood a
+pair of carved wooden candlesticks holding candles of bears' tallow, a
+wooden inkwell, and a carved frame displaying a little photograph--of
+Clare!
+
+Seeing it, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm glad I came," she murmured.
+
+Stonor turned away.
+
+A pen lay on the desk where it had been dropped, and beside it was a red
+leather note-book or diary, of which Clare possessed herself. More than
+anything else, what lent the room its air of amenity was a little shelf
+of books and magazines above the table. There was no glass in the
+window, of course, but a piece of gauze had been stretched over the
+opening to keep out the insects at night. For cold weather there was a
+heavy shutter swung on wooden hinges. The fireplace, built of stones and
+clay, was in the corner. The arch was cunningly contrived out of thin
+slabs of stone standing on edge. Stonor immediately noticed that the
+ashes were still giving out heat.
+
+The room they were in comprised only half the shack. There was a door
+communicating with the other half. Opening it, they saw that this part
+evidently served the owner as a work-room and store-room. Cut wood was
+neatly piled against one wall. Snowshoes, roughly-fashioned fur
+garments, steel traps and other winter gear were hanging from pegs.
+There was a window facing the river, this one uncovered, and under it
+was a work-bench on which lay the remains of a meal and unwashed
+dishes--humble testimony to the near presence of another fellow-creature
+in the wilderness. On the floor at one side was a heap of supplies; that
+is to say, store-grub; evidently what Imbrie had lately brought down,
+and had not yet put away. There was a door in the back wall of this
+room, the side of the shack away from the river.
+
+Stonor, looking around, said: "I suppose he used this as a sort of
+vestibule in the winter, to keep the wind and the snow out of his
+living-room."
+
+"Where can he be?" said Clare nervously.
+
+They both spoke instinctively in subdued tones, like intruders fearful
+of being overheard.
+
+"He can't have been gone long. He was smoking here just now. The
+fireplace is still warm."
+
+"He can't have intended to stay long, for he left everything open."
+
+"Well, he would hardly expect to be disturbed up here."
+
+"But animals?"
+
+"No wild thing would venture close to the fresh man smell. Still, it's
+natural to close up when you go away."
+
+"What do you think?" she asked tremulously.
+
+The sight of her wide, strained eyes, and the little teeth pressed into
+her lower lip, were inexpressibly painful to him. Clearly it was too
+much to ask of the high-strung woman, after she had nerved herself up to
+the ordeal, to go on waiting indefinitely in suspense.
+
+"There are dozens of natural explanations," he said quickly. "Very
+likely he's just gone into the bush to hunt for his dinner."
+
+Her hand involuntarily went to her breast. "I feel," she whispered, "as
+if there were something dreadfully--dreadfully wrong."
+
+Stonor went outside and lustily holloaed. He received no answer.
+
+It was impossible for them to sit still while they waited. Having seen
+everything in the house, they walked about outside. Off to the left
+Imbrie had painstakingly cleared a little garden. Strange it was to see
+the familiar potato, onion, turnip and cabbage sprouting in orderly rows
+beside the unexplored river.
+
+Time passed. From a sense of duty they prepared a meal on the shore, and
+made a pretence of eating it, each for the other's benefit. Stonor did
+his best to keep up Clare's spirits, while at the same time his own
+mystification was growing. For in circling the shack he could find no
+fresh track anywhere into the bush. Tracks there were in plenty, where
+the man had gone for wood, or to hunt perhaps, but all more than
+twenty-four hours old. To be sure, there was the river, but it was not
+likely he had still a third canoe: and if he had gone up the river, how
+could they have missed him? As for going down, no canoe could live in
+that rapid, Stonor was sure; moreover, he supposed the falls were at the
+foot of it.
+
+Another thing; both his shot-gun and his rifle were leaning against the
+fireplace. He might have another gun, but it was not likely. As the
+hours passed, and the man neither returned nor answered Stonor's
+frequent shouts, the policeman began to wonder if an accident could have
+occurred to him. But he had certainly been alive and well within a
+half-hour of their arrival, and it seemed too fortuitous a circumstance
+that anything should have happened just at that juncture. A more
+probable explanation was that the man had seen them coming, and had
+reasons of his own for wishing to keep out of the way. After all, Stonor
+had no precise knowledge of the situation existing between Imbrie and
+Clare. But if he had hidden himself, where had he hidden himself?
+
+While it was still full day Stonor persuaded Clare and Mary to remain in
+the shack for a time, while he made a more careful search for Imbrie's
+tracks. This time he thoroughly satisfied himself that that day no one
+had struck into the bush surrounding the shack. He came upon the end of
+the old carry trail around the falls, and followed it away. But it would
+have been clear to even a tyro in the bush that no one had used it
+lately. There remained the beach. It was possible to walk along the
+stony beach without leaving a visible track. Stonor searched the beach
+for half a mile in either direction without being able to find a single
+track in any wet or muddy place, and without discovering any place
+where one had struck up the bank into the bush. On the down-river side
+he was halted by a low, sheer wall of rock washed by the current. He
+made sure that no one had tried to climb around this miniature
+precipice. From this point the rapids still swept on down out of sight.
+
+He returned to the shack completely baffled, and hoping against hope to
+find Imbrie returned. But Clare still sat huddled in the chair where he
+had left her, and looked to him eagerly for news. He could only shake
+his head.
+
+Finally the sun went down.
+
+"If he is not here by dark," said Clare with a kind of desperate
+calmness, "we will know something is the matter. His hat, his
+ammunition-belt, his hunting-knife are all here. He could not have
+intended to remain away."
+
+Darkness slowly gathered. Nothing happened. At intervals Stonor
+shouted--only to be mocked by the silence. Just to be doing something he
+built a great fire outside the shack. If Imbrie should be on the way
+back it would at least warn him of the presence of visitors.
+
+Stonor was suddenly struck by the fact that Mary had not expressed
+herself as to the situation. It was impossible to tell from the smooth
+copper mask of her face of what she was thinking.
+
+"Mary, what do you make of it?" he asked.
+
+She shrugged, declining to commit herself. "All the people say Eembrie
+got ver' strong medicine," she said. "Say he make himself look like
+anything he want."
+
+Stonor and Clare exchanged a rueful smile. "I'm afraid that doesn't help
+much," said the former.
+
+Mosquitoes drove them indoors. Stonor closed the door of the shack, and
+built up the fire in the fireplace. Stonor no longer expected the man to
+return, but Clare was still tremulously on the _qui vive_ for the
+slightest sound. Mary went off to bed in the store-room. The others
+remained sitting before the fire in Imbrie's two chairs. For them sleep
+was out of the question. Each had privately determined to sit up all
+night.
+
+For a long time they remained there without speaking.
+
+Stonor had said nothing to Clare about the conclusions he had arrived at
+concerning Imbrie, but she gathered from his attitude that he was
+passing judgment against the man they had come in search of, and she
+said at last:
+
+"Did you notice that little book that I picked up off the desk?"
+
+Stonor nodded.
+
+"It was his diary. Shall I read you from it?"
+
+"If you think it is right."
+
+"Yes. Just an extract or two. To show you the kind of man he is."
+
+The book was in the side pocket of her coat. Opening it, and leaning
+forward to get the light of the fire, she read:
+
+"April 29th: The ice is preparing to go out. Great booming cracks have
+been issuing from the river all day at intervals. When the jam at the
+head of the rapids goes it will be a great sight. To-morrow I'll take a
+bite to eat with me, and go down to the falls to watch what happens.
+Thank God for the coming of Spring! I'm pretty nearly at the end of my
+resources. I've read and re-read my few books and papers until I can
+almost repeat the contents by heart. I've finished my desk, and the
+candlesticks, and the frame for Clare's picture. But now I'll be able to
+make my garden. And I can sod a little lawn in front of the house with
+buffalo-grass."
+
+Clare looked at Stonor for an expression of opinion.
+
+The policeman murmured diffidently: "A real good sort."
+
+"Wait!" she said. "Listen to this. One of the first entries." She read
+in a moved voice:
+
+"They say that a man who lives cut off from his kind is bound to
+degenerate swiftly, but, by God! I won't have it so in my case. I'll be
+on my guard against the first symptoms. I shave every day and will
+continue to do so. Shaving is a symbol. I will keep my person and my
+house as trim as if I expected her to visit me hourly. Half of each day
+I'll spend in useful manual labour of some kind, and half in reading and
+contemplation. The power is mine to build or destroy myself with my
+thoughts. Well, I choose to build!"
+
+Clare looked at Stonor again.
+
+"That is fine!" he said simply.
+
+"So you see--why I had to come," she murmured.
+
+He did not see why the one followed necessarily on the other, nor did he
+understand why she felt impelled to explain it just then. But it seemed
+better to hold his peace. This revealing of Imbrie's worthy nature
+greatly perplexed Stonor. It had been so easy to believe that the two
+must have been parted as a result of something evil in Imbrie. He could
+not believe that it had been Clare's fault, however she might accuse
+herself. He was not yet experienced enough to conceive of a situation
+where two honest souls might come to a parting of the ways without
+either being especially to blame.
+
+For another long period they sat in silence. The influence of the night
+made itself felt even through the log walls of the shack. They were
+aware of solitude as of a physical presence. The fire had burned down to
+still embers, and down the chimney floated the inexpressibly mournful
+breath of the pines. The rapids made a hoarser note beyond. Clare
+shivered, and leaned closer over the fire. Stonor made a move to put on
+more wood, but she stopped him.
+
+"Don't!" she said, with queer inconsistency. "It makes too much noise."
+
+Suddenly the awful stillness was broken by a heavy thudding sound on the
+ground outside. A gasping cry was forced from Clare. Stonor sprang up,
+knocking over his chair, and made for the door. Getting it opened, he
+ran outside. Off to his right he saw, or thought he saw, a suspicious
+shadow, and he instantly made for it. Whereupon a sudden crashing into
+the underbrush persuaded him it was no apparition.
+
+Clare's voice, sharp with terror, arrested him. "Martin, don't leave
+me!"
+
+He went back to her, suddenly realizing that to chase an unknown thing
+bare-handed through the bush at night was scarcely the part of prudence.
+He got his gun, and flung himself down across the sill of the open door,
+looking out. Nothing further was to be seen or heard. Beyond the little
+clearing the river gleamed in the faint dusk. The canoes on the beach
+were invisible from the door, being under the bank.
+
+"What do you think it was?" whispered Clare.
+
+"Something fell or jumped out of that big spruce nearest the back of the
+house." To himself he added: "A natural place to hide. What a fool I was
+not to think of that before!"
+
+"But what?" said Clare.
+
+Stonor said grimly: "There are only two tree-climbing animals in this
+country heavy enough to make the sound we heard--bears and men."
+
+"A bear?"
+
+"Maybe. But I never heard of a bear climbing a tree beside a house, and
+at night, too. Don't know what he went up for."
+
+"Oh, it couldn't be----" Clare began. She never finished.
+
+Stonor kept his vigil at the open door. He bade Clare throw ashes on the
+embers, that no light from behind might show him up. When she had done
+it she crept across the floor and sat close beside him. Mary,
+apparently, had not been awakened.
+
+Minutes passed, and they heard no sounds except the rapids and the
+pines. Clare was perfectly quiet, and Stonor could not tell how she was
+bearing the strain. He bethought himself that he had perhaps spoken his
+mind too clearly. To reassure her he said:
+
+"It must have been a bear."
+
+"You do not think so really," she said. A despairing little wail escaped
+her. "I don't understand! Oh, I don't understand! Why should he hide
+from us?"
+
+Stonor could find little of comfort to say. "Morning will make
+everything clear, I expect. We shall be laughing at our fears then."
+
+The minutes grew into hours, and they remained in the same positions.
+Nature is merciful to humans, and little by little the strain was eased.
+The sharpness of their anxiety was dulled. They were conscious only of a
+dogged longing for the dawn. At intervals Stonor suggested to Clare that
+she go lie down on the bed, but when she begged to remain beside him, he
+had not the heart to insist. In all that time they heard nothing beyond
+the natural sounds of the night; the stirrings of little furry footfalls
+among the leaves; the distant bark of a fox.
+
+And then without the slightest warning the night was shattered by a
+blood-curdling shriek of terror from Mary Moosa in the room adjoining.
+Stonor's first thought was for the effect on Clare's nerves. He jumped
+up, savagely cursing the Indian woman. He ran to the communicating door.
+Clare was close at his heels.
+
+Mary was lying on the floor, covering her head with her arms, moaning
+in an extremity of terror, and gibbering in her own tongue. For a while
+she could not tell them what was the matter. Stonor thought she was
+dreaming. Then she began to cry in English: "Door! Door!" and to point
+to it. Stonor made for the door, but Clare with a cry clung to him, and
+Mary herself, scrambling on all fours, clutched him around the knees.
+Stonor felt exquisitely foolish.
+
+"Well, let me secure it," he said gruffly.
+
+This door was fitted with a bar, which he swung into place. At the
+window across the room, he swung the shutter in, and fastened that also.
+
+"You see," he said. "No one can get in here now."
+
+They took the shaking Mary into the next room. To give them a better
+sense of security, Stonor tore the cotton out of the window and fastened
+this shutter also. There was no bar on this door. He preferred to leave
+it open, and to mount guard in the doorway.
+
+Gradually Mary calmed down sufficiently to tell them what had happened.
+"Little noise wake me. I not know what it is. I listen. Hear it again.
+Come from door. I watch. Bam-bye I see the door open so slow, so slow. I
+so scare can't cry. My tongue is froze. I see a hand pushin' the door. I
+see a head stick in and listen. Then I get my tongue again. I cry out.
+Door close. I hear somebody runnin' outside."
+
+Stonor and Clare looked at each other. "Not much doubt about the kind of
+animal now," said the former deprecatingly.
+
+Clare spread out her hands. "He must be mad," she whispered.
+
+Mary and Clare clung to each other like sisters. Stonor remained at the
+door watching the clear space between the shack and the river. Nothing
+stirred there. Stonor heard no more untoward sounds.
+
+Fortunately for the nerves of the women the nights were short. While
+they watched and prayed for the dawn, and told themselves it would never
+come, it was suddenly there. It came, and they could not see it come.
+The light stole between the trees; the leaves dressed themselves with
+colour. A little breeze came from the river, and seemed to blow the last
+of the murk away. By half-past three it was full day.
+
+"I must go out and look around," said Stonor.
+
+Clare implored him not to leave them.
+
+"It is necessary," he said firmly.
+
+"Your red coat is so conspicuous," she faltered.
+
+"It is my safeguard," he said; "that is, against humans. As for animals,
+I can protect myself." He showed them his service revolver.
+
+He left them weeping. He went first to the big spruce-tree behind the
+house. He immediately saw, as he had expected, that a man had leaped out
+of the lower branches. There were the two deep prints of moccasined
+feet; two hand-prints also where he had fallen forward. He had no doubt
+come down faster than he had intended. It was child's play after that to
+follow his headlong course through the bush. Soon Stonor saw that he had
+slackened his pace--no doubt at the moment when Stonor turned back to
+the shack. Still the track was written clear. It made a wide detour
+through the bush, and came back to the door of the room where Mary had
+been sleeping. The man had taken a couple of hours to make perhaps three
+hundred yards. He had evidently wormed himself along an inch at a time,
+to avoid giving an alarm.
+
+When Mary cried out he had taken back to the bush on the other side of
+the shack. Stonor, following the tracks, circled through the bush on
+this side, and was finally led to the edge of the river-bank. The
+instant that he pushed through the bushes he saw that one of the
+bark-canoes was missing. Running to the place where they lay, he saw
+that it was the one with the willow-bushes that was gone. No need to
+look any further. There was nothing in view for the short distance that
+he could see up-river.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE FOOT
+
+
+Stonor, returning to the shack, was hailed with joy as one who might
+have come back from Hades unscathed. He told Clare just what he had
+found.
+
+"What do you think?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Isn't it clear? He saw us coming and took to the tree. There were so
+many tracks around the base of the tree that I was put off. He must have
+been hidden there all the time we were looking for him and shouting. As
+soon as it got dark he tried to make his get-away, but his calculations
+were somewhat upset by his falling. Even after we had taken warning, he
+had to risk getting into his store-room, because all his food was there.
+No doubt he thought we would all be in the other room, and he could
+sneak in and take what he could carry. When he was scared off by Mary's
+scream he started his journey without it, that's all."
+
+"But why _should_ he run from us--from me?"
+
+Stonor shrugged helplessly.
+
+She produced the little red book again. "Read something here," she said,
+turning the pages.
+
+Under her directing finger, while she looked aside, he read: "The
+hardest thing I have to contend against is my hunger for her. Discipline
+is of little avail against that. I spend whole days wrestling with
+myself, trying to get the better of it, and think I have conquered, only
+to be awakened at night by wanting her worse than ever."
+
+"Does that sound as if he wished to escape me?" she murmured.
+
+In her distress of mind it did not occur to her, of course, that this
+was rather a cruel situation for Stonor. He did not answer for a moment;
+then said in a low tone: "I am afraid his mind is unhinged. You
+suggested it."
+
+"I know," she said quickly. "But I have been thinking it over. It can't
+be. Listen to this." She hastily turned the pages of the little book.
+"What day is this?"
+
+"The third of July."
+
+"This was written June 30th, only four days ago. It is the last entry in
+the book. Listen!" She read, while the tears started to her eyes:
+
+"I must try to get in some good books on natural history. If I could
+make better friends with the little wild things around me I need never
+be lonely. There is a young rabbit who seems disposed to hit it off with
+me. I toss him a bit of biscuit after breakfast every morning. He comes
+and waits for it now. He eats it daintily in my sight; then, with a
+flirt of his absurd tail for 'thank you,' scampers down to the river to
+wash it down."
+
+"Those are not the thoughts of a man out of his mind."
+
+"No," he admitted, "but everything you have read shows him to be of a
+sensitive, high-strung nature. On such a man the sudden shock of our
+coming----"
+
+"Oh, then I have waited too long!" she cried despairingly. "And now I
+can never repay!"
+
+"Not necessarily," said Stonor with a dogged patience. "Such cases are
+common in the North. But I never knew one to be incurable."
+
+She took this in, and it comforted her partly; but her thoughts were
+still busy with matters remote from Stonor. After a while she asked
+abruptly: "What do you think we ought to do?"
+
+"Start up the river at once," he said. "We'll hear news of him on the
+way. We'll overtake him in the end."
+
+She stared at him with troubled eyes, pondering this suggestion. At last
+she slowly shook her head. "I don't think we ought to go," she murmured.
+
+"What!" he cried, astonished. "You wish to stay here--after last night!
+Why?"
+
+"I don't know," she said helplessly.
+
+"But if the man is really not right, he needs looking after. We ought to
+hurry after him."
+
+"It seems so," she said, still with the air of those who speak what is
+strange to themselves; "but I have an intuition, a premonition--I don't
+know what to call it! Something tells me that we do not yet know the
+truth."
+
+Stonor turned away helplessly. He could not argue against a woman's
+reason like this.
+
+"Ah, don't be impatient with me," she said appealingly. "Just wait
+to-day. If nothing happens during the day to throw any light on what
+puzzles us, I will make no more objections. I'll be willing to start
+this afternoon, and camp up the river."
+
+"It will give him twelve hours' start of us."
+
+Her surprising answer was: "I don't think he's gone."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor made his way over the old portage trail. He wished to have a look
+at the Great Falls before returning up-river. Clare, waiting for what
+she could not have told, had chosen to remain at the shack, and Mary
+Moosa was not afraid to stay with her by daylight. Like Stonor, Mary
+believed that the man had undoubtedly left the neighbourhood, and that
+no further danger was to be apprehended from that quarter.
+
+Stonor went along abstractedly, climbing over the obstructions or
+cutting a way through, almost oblivious to his surroundings. His heart
+was jealous and sore. His instinct told him that the man who had
+prowled around the shack the night before was an evil-doer; yet Clare
+persisted in exalting him to the skies. In his present temper it seemed
+to Stonor as if Clare purposely made his task as hard as possible for
+him. In fact, the trooper had a grievance against the whole world.
+
+Suddenly he realized that his brain was simply chasing itself in
+circles. Stopping short, he shook himself much like a dog on issuing
+from the water. His will was to shake off the horrors of the past night
+and his dread of the future. Better sense told him that only weakness
+lay in dwelling on these things. Let things fall as they would, he would
+meet them like a man, he hoped, and no more could be asked of him. In
+the meantime he would not worry himself into a stew. He went on with a
+lighter breast.
+
+From the cutting in the trail Stonor saw that someone had travelled that
+way a while before, probably during the previous season, for the cuts on
+green wood were half-healed. It was clear, from the amount of cutting he
+had been obliged to do, that this traveller was the first that way in
+many years. Stonor further saw from the style of his axe-work that he
+was a white man; a white man chops a sapling with one stroke clean
+through: a red man makes two chops, half-way through on each side. This
+was pretty conclusive evidence that Imbrie had first come from
+down-river.
+
+This trail had not been used since, and Stonor, remembering the
+suggestion in Imbrie's diary that he frequently visited the falls,
+supposed that he had some other way of reaching there. He determined to
+see if it was practicable to make his way along the beach on the way
+back.
+
+The trail did not take him directly to the falls, but in a certain place
+he saw signs of an old side-path striking off towards the river, and,
+following this, he was brought out on a plateau of rock immediately
+above the spot where the river stepped off into space. Here he stood for
+a moment to prepare himself for the sight before looking over. His eye
+was caught by some ends of string fluttering from the branches of a bush
+beside him. He was at a loss to account for their presence until he
+remembered Etzooah and his humble offerings to the Old Man. Here Etzooah
+had tied his tobacco-bags.
+
+Approaching the brink, the river smoothed itself a little as if
+gathering its forces for the leap, and over the edge itself it slipped
+smoothly. It was true to a certain extent that the cataract muffled its
+own voice, but the earth trembled. The gorge below offered a superb
+prospect. After the invariable flatness and tameness of the shores
+above, the sudden cleft in the world impressed the beholder stunningly.
+
+Then Stonor went to the extreme edge and looked over. A deep, dull roar
+smote upon his ears; he was bewildered and satisfied. Knowing the Indian
+propensity to exaggerate, he had half expected to find merely a cascade
+wilder than anything above; or perhaps a wide straggling series of
+falls. It was neither. The entire river gathered itself up, and plunged
+sheer into deep water below. The river narrowed down at the brink, and
+the volume of water was stupendous. The drop was over one hundred feet.
+The water was of the colour of strong tea, and as it fell it drew over
+its brown sheen a lovely, creamy fleece of foam. Tight little curls of
+spray puffed out of the falling water like jets of smoke, and, spreading
+and descending, merged into the white cloud that rolled about the foot
+of the falls. This cloud itself billowed up in successive undulations
+like full draperies, only to spread out and vanish in the sunshine.
+
+Stonor had the solemn feeling that comes to the man who knows himself to
+be among the first of his race to gaze on a great natural wonder. He
+and Imbrie alone had seen this sight. What of the riddle of Imbrie?
+Doctor, magician, skulker in the night, madman perhaps--and Clare's
+husband! Must he be haunted by him all his life? But the noble spectacle
+before Stonor's eyes calmed his nerves. All will be clear in the end, he
+told himself. And nothing could destroy his thought of Clare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He would liked to have remained for hours, but everything drew him back
+to the shack. He started back along the beach. On the whole it was
+easier going than by the encumbered trail. There were no obstacles
+except the low precipice that has been mentioned, and that proved to be
+no great matter to climb around. Meanwhile every foot of the rapid
+offered a fascinating study to the river-man. This rapid seemed to go
+against all the customary rules for rapids. Nowhere in all its torn
+expanse could Stonor pick a channel; the rocks stuck up everywhere. He
+noticed that one could have returned in a canoe in safety from the very
+brink of the falls by means of the back-waters that crept up the shore.
+
+His attention was caught by a log-jam out in the rapid. He had scarcely
+noticed it the day before while searching for tracks. Two great rocks,
+that stuck out of the water close together where the current ran
+swiftest, had at some time caught an immense fallen tree squarely on
+their shoulders, and the pressure of the current held it there. Another
+tree had caught on the obstruction, and another, and now the fantastic
+pile reared itself high out of the water.
+
+At the moment Stonor had no weightier matter on his mind than to puzzle
+how this had come about. Suddenly his blood ran cold to perceive what
+looked like a human foot sticking out of the water at the bottom of the
+pile. He violently rubbed his eyes, thinking that they deceived him.
+But there was no mistake. It _was_ a foot, clad in a moccasin of the
+ordinary style of the country. While Stonor looked it was agitated back
+and forth as in a final struggle. With a sickened breast, he
+instinctively looked around for some means of rescue. But he immediately
+realized that the owner of the foot was long past aid. The movement was
+due simply to the action of the current.
+
+His brain whirled dizzily. A foot? Whose foot? Imbrie's? There was no
+other man anywhere near. But Imbrie knew the place so well he could not
+have been carried down, unless he had chosen to end his life that way.
+And his anxiety to obtain food the night before did not suggest that he
+had any intention of putting himself out of the way. Perhaps it was an
+Indian drowned up-river and carried down. But they would surely have
+heard of the accident on the way. More likely Imbrie. If his brain was
+unhinged, who could say what wild impulse might seize him? Was this the
+reason for Clare's premonition? If it was Imbrie, how could he tell her?
+
+Stonor forced down the mounting horror that constricted his throat, and
+soberly bethought himself of what he must do. Useless to speculate on
+whose the body might be; he had to find out. He examined the place up
+and down with fresh care. The log-jam was about half-a-mile above the
+falls, and a slightly lesser distance below Imbrie's shack. It was
+nearer his side of the river than the other; say, fifty yards of torn
+white water lay between the drift-pile and the beach. To wade or swim
+out was out of the question. On the other hand, the strongest flow of
+water, the channel such as it was, set directly for the obstruction, and
+it might be possible to drop down on it from above--if one provided some
+means for getting back again. Stonor marked the position of every rock,
+every reef above, and little by little made his plan.
+
+He returned to the shack. In her present state of nerves he dared not
+tell Clare of what he had found. In any case he might be mistaken in his
+supposition as to the identity of the body. In that case she need never
+be told. He was careful to present himself with a smooth face.
+
+"Any news?" cried Clare eagerly. "You've been gone so long!"
+
+He shook his head. "Anything here?"
+
+"Nothing. I am ready to go now as soon as we have eaten."
+
+Stonor, faced with the necessity of suddenly discovering some reason for
+delaying their start, stroked his chin. "Have you slept?" he asked.
+
+"How could I sleep?"
+
+"I don't think you ought to start until you've had some sleep."
+
+"I can sleep later."
+
+"I need sleep too. And Mary."
+
+"Of course! How selfish of me! We can start towards evening, then."
+
+While Clare was setting the biscuits to the fire in the shack, and
+Stonor was chopping wood outside, Mary came out for an armful of wood.
+The opportunity of speaking to her privately was too good to be missed.
+
+"Mary," said Stonor. "There's a dead body caught in the rapids below
+here."
+
+"Wah!" she cried, letting the wood fall. "You teenk it is _him_?"
+
+"I don't know. I suppose so. I've got to find out."
+
+"Find out? In the rapids? How you goin' find out? You get carry over the
+falls!"
+
+"Not so loud! I've got it all doped out. I'm taking no unnecessary
+chances. But I'll need you to help me."
+
+"I not help you," said Mary rebelliously. "I not help you drown
+yourself--for a dead man. He's dead anyhow. If you go over the falls
+what we do? What we do?"
+
+"Easy! I told you I had a good plan. Wait and see what it is. Get her to
+sleep this afternoon, and we'll try to pull it off before she wakes. Now
+run on in, or she'll wonder what we're talking about. Don't show
+anything in your face."
+
+Mary's prime accomplishment lay in hiding her feelings. She picked up
+her wood, and went stolidly into the shack.
+
+Stonor, searching among Imbrie's things, was much reassured to find a
+tracking-line. This, added to his own line, would give him six hundred
+feet of rope, which he judged ample for his purpose. He spliced the two
+while the meal was preparing.
+
+"What's that for?" Clare asked.
+
+"To help us up-stream."
+
+As soon as he had eaten he went back to the beach. His movements here
+were invisible to those in the shack. He carried the remaining
+bark-canoe on his back down the beach to a point about a hundred and
+fifty yards above the log-jam. This was to be his point of departure. He
+took a fresh survey of the rapids, and went over and over in his mind
+the course he meant to take.
+
+After cutting off several short lengths that he required for various
+purposes, Stonor fastened the end of the line to a tree on the edge of
+the bank; the other end he made fast to the stern of the canoe--not to
+the point of the stern, but to the stern-thwart where it joined the
+gunwale. This was designed to hold the canoe at an angle against the
+current that would keep her out in the stream. The slack of the line was
+coiled neatly on the beach.
+
+With one of the short lengths Stonor then made an offset from this line
+near where it was fastened to the thwart, and passed it around his own
+body under the arms. Thus, if the canoe smashed on the rocks or
+swamped, by cutting the line at the thwart the strain would be
+transferred to Stonor's body, and the canoe could be left to its fate.
+Another short length with a loop at the end was made fast at the other
+end of the thwart. This was for the purpose of making fast to the
+log-jam while Stonor worked to free the body. A third piece of line he
+carried around his neck. This was to secure the body.
+
+During the course of these preparations Mary joined him. She reported
+that Clare was fast asleep. Stonor made a little prayer that she might
+not awaken till this business was over.
+
+He explained to Mary what he was about, and showed her her part. She
+listened sullenly, but, seeing that his mind was made up, shrugged at
+the uselessness of opposing his will. Mary was to pay out the rope
+according to certain instructions, and afterwards to haul him in.
+
+Finally, after reassuring himself of the security of all his knots, he
+divested himself of hat, tunic, and boots and stepped into the canoe. He
+shook hands with Mary, took his knife between his teeth, and pushed off.
+He made as much as he could out of the back-water alongshore, and then,
+heading diagonally up-stream, shot out into the turmoil, paddling like a
+man possessed in order to make sure of getting far enough out before the
+current swept him abreast of his destination. Mary, according to
+instructions, paid out the rope freely. Before starting he had marked
+every rock in his course, and he avoided them now by instinct. His
+thinking had been done beforehand. He worked like a machine.
+
+He saw that he was going to make it, with something to spare. When he
+had the log-jam safely under his quarter, he stopped paddling, and,
+bringing the canoe around, drifted down on it. There was plenty of
+water out here. He held up a hand to Mary, and according to
+pre-arrangement she gradually took up the strain on the line. The canoe
+slowed up, and the current began to race past.
+
+So far so good. The line held the canoe slightly broached to the
+current, thus the pressure of the current itself kept him from edging
+ashore. The log-pile loomed up squarely ahead of him. Mary let him down
+on it hand over hand. He manoeuvred himself abreast an immense log
+pointing up and down river, alongside of which the current slipped
+silkily. Casting his loop over the stump of a branch, he was held fast
+and the strain was taken off Mary's arms.
+
+The moccasined foot protruded from the water at the bow of his canoe. He
+soon saw the impossibility of attempting to work from the frail canoe,
+so he untied the rope which bound him to it, and pulled himself out on
+the logs. The rope from the shore was still around his body in case of a
+slip. He was taking no unnecessary chances.
+
+The body was caught in some way under the same great log that his canoe
+was fastened to. The current tore at the projecting foot with a snarl.
+The foot oscillated continually under the pull, and sometimes
+disappeared altogether, only to spring back into sight with a ghastly
+life-like motion. Stonor cautiously straddled the log, and groped
+beneath it. His principal anxiety was that log and all might come away
+from the jam and be carried down, but there was little danger that his
+insignificant weight would disturb so great a bulk.
+
+The body was caught in the fork of a branch underneath. He succeeded in
+freeing the other foot. He guessed that a smart pull up-stream would
+liberate the whole, but in that case the current would almost surely
+snatch it from his grasp. He saw that it would be an impossible task
+from his insecure perch to drag the body out on the log, and in turn
+load it into the fragile canoe. His only chance lay in towing it ashore.
+
+So, with the piece of line he had brought for the purpose, he lashed the
+feet together, and made the other end fast to the bow-thwart of the
+canoe. Then he got in and adjusted his stern-line as before--it became
+the bow-line for the return journey. In case it should become necessary
+to cut adrift from the canoe, he took the precaution of passing a line
+direct from his body to that which he meant to tow. When all was ready
+he signalled to Mary to haul in.
+
+Now began the most difficult half of his journey. On the strength of
+Mary's arms depended the freeing of the body. It came away slowly.
+Stonor had an instant's glimpse of the ghastly tow bobbing astern,
+before settling down to the business in hand. For awhile all went well,
+though the added pull of the submerged body put a terrific strain on
+Mary. Fortunately she was as strong as a man. Stonor aided her all he
+could with his paddle, but that was little. He was kept busy fending his
+egg-shell craft off the rocks. He had instructed Mary, as the slack
+accumulated, to walk gradually up the beach. This was to avoid the
+danger of the canoe's broaching too far to the current. But Mary could
+not do it under the increased load. The best she could manage was to
+brace her body against the stones, and pull in hand over hand.
+
+As the line shortened Stonor saw that he was going to have trouble.
+Instead of working in-shore, the canoe was edging further into the
+stream, and ever presenting a more dangerous angle to the tearing
+current. Mary had pulled in about a third of the line, when suddenly the
+canoe, getting the current under her dead rise, darted out into
+mid-stream like a fish at the end of a line, and hung there canting
+dangerously. The current snarled along the gunwale like an animal
+preparing to crush its prey.
+
+The strain on Mary was frightful. She was extended at full length with
+her legs braced against an outcrop of rock. Stonor could see her
+agonized expression. He shouted to her to slack off the line, but of
+course the roar of the water drowned his puny voice. In dumb-play he
+tried desperately to show her what to do, but Mary was possessed of but
+one idea, to hang on until her arms were pulled out.
+
+The canoe tipped inch by inch, and the boiling water crept up its
+freeboard. Finally it swept in, and Stonor saw that all was over with
+the canoe. With a single stroke of his knife he severed the rope at the
+thwart behind him; with another stroke the rope in front. When the tug
+came on his body he was jerked clean out of the canoe. It passed out of
+his reckoning. By the drag behind him, he knew he still had the dead
+body safe.
+
+He instinctively struck out, but the tearing water, mocking his feeble
+efforts, buffeted him this way and that as with the swing of giant arms.
+Sometimes he was spun helplessly on the end of his line like a
+trolling-spoon. He was flung sideways around a boulder and pressed there
+by the hands of the current until it seemed the breath was slowly
+leaving his body. Dazed, blinded, gasping, he somehow managed to
+struggle over it, and was cast further in-shore. The tendency of the
+current was to sweep him in now. If he could only keep alive! The stones
+were thicker in-shore. He was beaten first on one side, then the other.
+All his conscious efforts were reduced to protecting his head from the
+rocks with his arms.
+
+The water may have been but a foot or two deep, but of course he could
+gain no footing. He still dragged his leaden burden. All the breath was
+knocked out of him under the continual blows, but he was conscious of no
+pain. The last few moments were a blank. He found himself in the
+back-water, and expended his last ounce of strength in crawling out on
+hands and knees on the beach. He cast himself flat, sobbing for breath.
+
+Mary came running to his aid. He was able to nod to her reassuringly,
+and in the ecstasy of her relief, she sat down suddenly, and wept like a
+white woman. Stonor gathered himself together and sat up groaning. The
+onset of pain was well-nigh unendurable. He felt literally as if his
+flesh all over had been pounded to a jelly. But all his limbs,
+fortunately, responded to their functions.
+
+"Lie still," Mary begged of him.
+
+He shook his head. "I must keep moving, or I'll become as helpless as a
+log."
+
+The nameless thing was floating in the back-water. Together they dragged
+it out on the stones. It was Stonor's first sight of that which had cost
+him such pains to secure. He nerved himself to bear it. Mary was no fine
+lady, but she turned her head away. The man's face was totally
+unrecognizable by reason of the battering it had received on the rocks;
+his clothes were partly in ribbons; there was a gaping wound in the
+breast.
+
+For the rest, as far as Stonor could judge, it was the body of a young
+man, and a comely one. His skin was dark like that of an Italian, or a
+white man with a quarter or eighth strain of Indian blood in his veins.
+Stonor was astonished by this fact; nothing that he had heard had
+suggested that Imbrie was not as white as himself. This put a new look
+on affairs. For an instant Stonor doubted. But the man's hand was
+well-formed and well-kept; and in what remained of his clothes one could
+still see the good materials and the neatness. In fact, it could be none
+other than Imbrie.
+
+He was roused from his contemplation of the gruesome object by a sharp
+exclamation from Mary. Looking up, he saw Clare a quarter of a mile
+away, hastening to them along the beach. His heart sank.
+
+"Go to her," he said quickly. "Keep her from coming here."
+
+Mary hastened away. Stonor followed more slowly, disguising his soreness
+as best he could. For him it was cruel going over the stones--yet all
+the way he was oddly conscious of the beauty of the wild cascade,
+sweeping down between its green shores.
+
+As he had feared, Clare refused to be halted by Mary. Thrusting the
+Indian woman aside, she came on to Stonor.
+
+"What's the matter?" she cried stormily. "Why did you both leave me? Why
+does she try to stop me?--Why! you're all wet! Where's your tunic, your
+boots? You're in pain!"
+
+"Come to the house," he said. "I'll tell you."
+
+She would not be put off. "What has happened? I insist on knowing now!
+What is there down there I mustn't see?"
+
+"Be guided by me," he pleaded. "Come away, and I'll tell you
+everything."
+
+"I _will_ see!" she cried. "Do you wish to put me out of my mind with
+suspense?"
+
+He saw that it was perhaps kinder not to oppose her. "I have found a
+body in the river," he said. "Do not look at it. Let me tell you."
+
+She broke away from him. "I must know the worst," she muttered.
+
+He let her go. She ran on down the beach, and he hobbled after. She
+stopped beside the body, and looked down with wide, wild eyes. One
+dreadful low cry escaped her.
+
+"Ernest!"
+
+She collapsed. Stonor caught her sagging body. Her head fell limply back
+over his arm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE START HOME
+
+
+Stonor, refusing aid from Mary, painfully carried his burden all the way
+back to the shack. He laid her on the bed. There was no sign of
+returning animation. Mary loosened her clothing, chafed her hands, and
+did what other offices her experience suggested. After what seemed like
+an age to the watchers, she stirred and sighed. Stonor dreaded then what
+recollection would bring to her awakening. But there was neither grief
+nor terror in the quiet look she bent first on one then the other; only
+a kind of annoyed perplexity. She closed her eyes again without
+speaking, and presently her deepened breathing told them that she slept.
+
+"Thank God!" whispered Stonor. "It's the best thing for her."
+
+Mary followed him out of the shack. "Watch her close," he charged her.
+"If you want me for anything come down to the beach and hail."
+
+Stonor procured another knife and returned to the body. In the light of
+Clare's identification he could have no further doubt that this was
+indeed the remains of the unhappy Imbrie. She had her own means of
+identification, he supposed. The man, undoubtedly deranged, must have
+pushed off in his canoe and let the current carry him to his death.
+Stonor, however, thinking of the report he must make to his commanding
+officer, knew that his speculations were not sufficient. Much as he
+disliked the necessity, it was incumbent on him to perform an autopsy.
+
+This developed three surprising facts in this order: (a) there was no
+water in the dead man's lungs, proving that he was already dead when his
+body entered the water: (b) there was a bullet-hole through his heart:
+(c) the bullet itself was lodged in his spine.
+
+For a moment Stonor thought of murder--but only for a moment. A
+glance showed him that the bullet was of thirty-eight calibre, a
+revolver-bullet. Revolvers are unknown to the Indians. Stonor knew
+that there were no revolvers in all the country round except his own,
+Gaviller's forty-four, and one that the dead man himself might have
+possessed. Consequently he saw no reason to change his original theory
+of suicide. Imbrie, faced by that terrible drop, had merely hastened
+the end by putting a bullet through his heart.
+
+Stonor kept the bullet as possible evidence. He then looked about for a
+suitable burial-place. His instinct was to provide the poor fellow with
+a fair spot for his last long rest. Up on top of the low precipice of
+rock that has been mentioned, there was a fine point of vantage visible
+up-river beyond the head of the rapids. At no small pains Stonor dragged
+the body up here, and with his knife dug him a shallow grave between the
+roots of a conspicuous pine. It was a long, hard task. He covered him
+with brush in lieu of a coffin, and, throwing the earth back, heaped a
+cairn of stones on top. Placing a flat stone in the centre, he scratched
+the man's name on it and the date. He spoke no articulate prayer, but
+thought one perhaps.
+
+"Sleep well, old fellow. It seems I was never to know you, though you
+haunted me--and may perhaps haunt me still."
+
+Dragging himself wearily back to the shack, Stonor found that Clare
+still slept.
+
+"Fine!" he said with clearing face. "There's no doctor like sleep!"
+
+His secret dread was that she might become seriously ill. What would he
+do in that case, so far away from help?
+
+He sat himself down to watch beside Clare while Mary prepared the
+evening meal. There were still some three hours more of daylight, and he
+decided to be guided as to their start up-river by Clare's condition
+when she awoke. If she had a horror of the place they could start at
+once, provided she were able to travel, and sleep under canvas.
+Otherwise it would be well to wait until morning, for he was pretty
+nearly all in himself. Indeed, while he waited with the keenest anxiety
+for Clare's eyes to open, his own closed. He slept with his head fallen
+forward on his breast.
+
+He awoke to find Clare's wide-open eyes wonderingly fixed on him.
+
+"Who are you?" she asked.
+
+It struck a chill to his breast. Was she mad? This was a more dreadful
+horror than he had foreseen. Yet there was nothing distraught in her
+gaze, merely that same look of perplexed annoyance. It was an
+appreciable moment before he could collect his wits sufficiently to
+answer.
+
+"Your friend," he said, forcing himself to smile.
+
+"Yes, I think you are," she said slowly. "But it's funny I don't quite
+know you."
+
+"You soon will."
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Martin Stonor."
+
+"And that uniform you are wearing?"
+
+"Mounted police."
+
+She raised herself a little, and looked around. The puzzled expression
+deepened. "What a strange-looking room! What am I doing in such a
+place?"
+
+To Stonor it was like a conversation in a dream. It struck awe to his
+breast. Yet he forced himself to answer lightly and cheerfully. "This
+is a shack in the woods where we are camping temporarily. We'll start
+for home as soon as you are able."
+
+"Home? Where is that?" she cried like a lost child.
+
+A great hard lump rose in Stonor's throat. He could not speak.
+
+After a while she said: "I feel all right. I could eat."
+
+"That's fine!" he cried from the heart. "That's the main thing. Supper
+will soon be ready."
+
+The next question was asked with visible embarrassment. "You are not my
+brother, are you, or any relation?"
+
+"No, only your friend," he said, smiling.
+
+She was troubled like a child, biting her lip, and turning her face from
+him to hide the threatening tears. There was evidently some question she
+could not bring herself to ask. He could not guess what it was.
+Certainly not the one she did ask.
+
+"What time is it?"
+
+"Past seven o'clock."
+
+"That means nothing to me," she burst out bitterly. "It's like the first
+hour to me. It's so foolish to be asking such questions! I don't know
+what's the matter with me! I don't even know my own name!"
+
+That was it! "Your name is Clare Starling," he said steadily.
+
+"What am I doing in a shack in the woods?"
+
+He hesitated before answering this. His first fright had passed. He had
+heard of people losing their memories, and knew that it was not
+necessarily a dangerous state. Indeed, now, this wiping-out of
+recollection seemed like a merciful dispensation, and he dreaded the
+word that would bring the agony back.
+
+"Don't ask any more questions now," he begged her. "Just rest up for the
+moment, and take things as they come."
+
+"Something terrible has happened!" she said agitatedly. "That is why I
+am like this. You're afraid to tell me what it is. But I must know.
+Nothing could be so bad as not knowing anything. It is unendurable not
+to have any identity. Don't you understand? I am empty inside here. The
+me is gone!"
+
+He arose and stood beside her bed. "I ask you to trust me," he said
+gravely. "I am the only doctor available. If you excite yourself like
+this only harm can come of it. Everything is all right now. You have
+nothing to fear. People who lose their memories always get them back
+again. If you do not remember of yourself I promise to tell you
+everything that has happened."
+
+"I will try to be patient," she said dutifully.
+
+Presently she asked: "Is there no one here but us? I thought I
+remembered a woman--or did I dream it?"
+
+Stonor called Mary in and introduced her. Clare's eyes widened. "An
+Indian woman!" their expression said.
+
+Stonor said, as if speaking of the most everyday matter: "Mary, Miss
+Starling's memory is gone. It will soon return, of course, and in the
+meantime plenty of food and sleep are the best things for her. She has
+promised me not to ask any more questions for the present."
+
+Mary paled slightly. To her, loss of memory smacked of insanity of which
+she was terribly in awe--like all her race. However, under Stonor's
+stern eye she kept her face pretty well.
+
+Clare said: "I'd like to get up now," and Stonor left the shack.
+
+Nothing further happened that night. Clare ate a good supper, and a bit
+of colour returned to her cheeks. Stonor had no reason to be anxious
+concerning her physical condition. She asked no more questions.
+Immediately after eating he sent her and Mary to bed. Shortly
+afterwards Mary reported that Clare had fallen asleep again.
+
+Stonor slept in the store-room. He was up at dawn, and by sunrise he had
+everything ready for the start up-river.
+
+It was an entirely self-possessed Clare that issued from the shack after
+breakfast, yet there was something inaccessible about her. Though she
+was anxious to be friends with Stonor and Mary, she was cut off from
+them. They had to begin all over again with her. There was something
+piteous in the sight of the little figure so alone even among her
+friends; but she was bearing it pluckily.
+
+She looked around her eagerly. The river was very lovely, with the sun
+drinking up the light mist from its surface.
+
+"What river is this?" she asked.
+
+Stonor told her.
+
+"It is not altogether strange to me," she said. "I feel as if I might
+have known it in a previous existence. There is a fall below, isn't
+there?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How do you suppose I knew that?"
+
+He shrugged, smiling.
+
+"And the--the catastrophe happened down there," she said diffidently. He
+nodded.
+
+"I feel it like a numb place inside me. But I don't want to go down
+there. I feel differently from yesterday. Some day soon, of course, I
+must turn back the dreadful pages, but not quite yet. I want a little
+sunshine and laziness and sleep first; a little vacation from trouble."
+
+"That's just as it should be," said Stonor, much relieved.
+
+"Isn't it funny, I can't remember anything that ever happened to me, yet
+I haven't forgotten everything I knew. I know the meaning of things. I
+still seem to talk like a grown-up person. Words come to me when I need
+them. How do you explain that?"
+
+"Well, I suppose it's because just one little department of your brain
+has stopped working for a while."
+
+"Well, I'm not going to worry. The world is beautiful."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The journey up-stream was a toilsome affair. Though the current between
+the rapids was not especially swift, it made a great difference when
+what had been added to their rate of paddling on the way down, was
+deducted on the way back. Stonor foresaw that it would take them close
+on ten days to make the Horse-Track. He and Mary took turns tracking the
+canoe from the bank, while the other rested. Clare steered. Ascending
+the rapids presented no new problems to a river-man, but it was
+downright hard work. All hands joined in pulling and pushing, careless
+of how they got wet.
+
+The passing days brought no change in Clare's mental state, and in
+Stonor the momentary dread of some thought or word that might bring
+recollection crashing back, was gradually lulled. Physically she showed
+an astonishing improvement, rejoicing in the hard work in the rapids,
+eating and sleeping like a growing boy. To Stonor it was enchanting to
+see the rosy blood mantle her pale cheeks and the sparkle of bodily
+well-being enhance her eyes. With this new tide of health came a stouter
+resistance to imaginative terrors. Away with doubts and questionings!
+For the moment the physical side of her was uppermost. It was Nature's
+own way of effecting a cure. Towards Stonor, in this new character of
+hers, she displayed a hint of laughing boldness that enraptured him.
+
+At first he would not let himself believe what he read in her new gaze;
+that the natural woman who had sloughed off the burdens of an unhappy
+past was disposed to love him. But of course he could not really resist
+so sweet a suggestion. Let him tell himself all he liked that he was
+living in a fool's paradise; that when recollection returned, as it must
+in the end, she would think no more of him; nevertheless, when she
+looked at him like that, he could not help being happy. The journey took
+on a thousand new delights for him; such delights as his solitary youth
+had never known. At least, he told himself, there was no sin in it, for
+the only man who had a better claim on her was dead and buried.
+
+One night they were camped beside some bare tepee poles on a point of
+the bank. Mary had gone off to set a night-line in an eddy; Stonor lay
+on his back in the grass smoking, and Clare sat near, nursing her knees.
+
+"You've forbidden me to ask questions about myself," said she; "but how
+about you?"
+
+"Oh, there's nothing to tell about me."
+
+She affected to study him with a disinterested air. "I don't believe you
+have a wife," she said wickedly. "You haven't a married look."
+
+"What kind of a look is that?"
+
+"Oh, a sort of apologetic look."
+
+"Well, as a matter of fact, I'm not married," he said, grinning.
+
+"Have you a sweetheart?" she asked in her abrupt way, so like a boy's.
+
+Stonor regarded his pipe-bowl attentively, but did not thereby succeed
+in masking his blushes.
+
+"Aha! You have!" she cried. "No need to answer."
+
+"That depends on what you mean," he said, determined not to let her
+outface him. "If you mean a regular cut and dried affair, no."
+
+"But you're in love."
+
+"Some might say so."
+
+"Don't you say so?"
+
+"I don't know. I've had no instruction on the subject."
+
+"Pshaw! It's a poor kind of man that needs instruction!"
+
+"I daresay."
+
+"Tell me, and maybe I can instruct you."
+
+"How can you tell the untellable?"
+
+"Well, for instance, do you like to be with her?"
+
+Stonor affected to study the matter. "No," he said.
+
+She gave him so comical a look of rebuke that he laughed outright. "I
+mean I'm uncomfortable whether I'm with her or away from her," he
+explained.
+
+"There may be something in that," she admitted. "Have you ever told
+her?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why don't you tell her like a man?"
+
+"Things are not as simple as all that."
+
+"Obstacles, eh?"
+
+"Rather!"
+
+A close observer might have perceived under Clare's scornful chaffing
+the suggestion of a serious and anxious purpose. "Bless me! this is
+getting exciting!" she said. "Maybe the lady has a husband?"
+
+"No, not that."
+
+A glint of relief showed under her lowered lids. "What's the trouble,
+then?"
+
+"Oh, just my general unworthiness, I guess."
+
+"I don't think you can love her very much," she said, with pretended
+scorn.
+
+"Perhaps not," he said, refusing to be drawn.
+
+She allowed the subject to drop. It was characteristic of Clare in her
+lighter moments that her conversation skipped from subject to subject
+like a chamois on the heights. Those who knew her well, though, began to
+suspect in the end that there was often a method in her skipping. She
+now talked of the day's journey, of the weather, of Mary's good
+cooking, of a dozen minor matters. After a long time, when he might
+naturally be supposed to have forgotten what they had started with, she
+said offhand:
+
+"Do you mind if I ask one question about myself?"
+
+"Fire away."
+
+"You told me my name was Miss Clare Starling."
+
+"Do you suspect otherwise?"
+
+"What am I doing with a wedding-ring?"
+
+It took him unawares. He stared at her a little clownishly. "I--I never
+noticed it," he stammered.
+
+"It's hanging on a string around my neck."
+
+"Your husband is dead," he said bluntly.
+
+She cast down her eyes. "Was that--the catastrophe that happened up
+here?"
+
+While he wished to keep the information from her as long as possible, he
+could not lie to her. "Yes," he said. "Don't ask any more."
+
+She bowed as one who acknowledges the receipt of information not
+personally important. "One more question; was he a good man, a man you
+respected?"
+
+"Oh, yes," he said quickly.
+
+She looked puzzled. "Strange I should feel no sense of loss," she
+murmured.
+
+"You had been parted from him for a long time."
+
+They fell silent. The charming spell that had bound them was effectually
+broken. She shivered delicately, and announced her intention of going to
+bed.
+
+But in the morning she showed him a shining morning face. To arise
+refreshed from sleep, hungry for one's breakfast, and eager for the
+day's journey, was enough for her just now. She was living in her
+instincts. Her instinct told her that Stonor loved her, and that
+sufficed her. The dreadful things might wait.
+
+Having ascended the last rapid, they found they could make better time
+by paddling the dug-out, keeping close under the shore as the Kakisas
+did, and cutting across from side to side on the inside of each bend to
+keep out of the strongest of the current. The seating arrangement was
+the same as at their start; Mary in the bow, Stonor in the stern, and
+Clare facing Stonor. Thus all day long their eyes were free to dwell on
+each other, nor did they tire. They had reached that perfect stage where
+the eyes confess what the tongue dares not name; that charming stage of
+folly when lovers tell themselves they are still safe because nothing
+has been spoken. As a matter of fact it is with words that the way to
+misunderstanding is opened. One cannot misunderstand happy eyes.
+Meanwhile they were satisfied with chaffing each other.
+
+"Martin, I wonder how old I am."
+
+He studied her gravely. "I shouldn't say more than thirty-three or
+four."
+
+"You wretch! I'll get square with you for that! I can start with any age
+I want. I'll be eighteen."
+
+"That's all right, if you can get away with it. If I could keep you up
+here awhile maybe you could knock off a little more."
+
+"Oh, Martin, if one could only travel on this river for ever! It's so
+blessed not to have to think of things!"
+
+"Suit me all right. But I suppose Mary wants to see her kids."
+
+"Let her go."
+
+Her eyes fell under the rapt look that involuntarily leapt up in his. "I
+mean we could get somebody else," she murmured.
+
+Stonor pulled himself up short. "Unfortunately there's the force," he
+said lightly. "If I don't go back and report they'll come after me."
+
+"What is this place we are going to, Martin?"
+
+"Fort Enterprise."
+
+"I am like a person hanging suspended in space. I neither know where I
+came from, nor where I am going. What is Fort Enterprise like?"
+
+"A trading-post."
+
+"Your home?"
+
+"Such as it is."
+
+"Why 'such as it is'?"
+
+"Well, it's a bit of a hole."
+
+"No society?"
+
+"Society!" He laughed grimly.
+
+"Aren't there any girls there?"
+
+"Devil a one!--except Miss Pringle, the parson's sister, and she's
+considerable oldish."
+
+"Don't you know any real girls, Martin?"
+
+"None but you, Clare."
+
+She bent an odd, happy glance on him. It meant: "Is it possible that I
+am the first with him?"
+
+"Why do you look at me like that?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, you're rather nice to look at," she said airily.
+
+"Thanks," he said, blushing. He was modest, but that sort of thing
+doesn't exactly hurt the most modest of men. "Same to you!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They camped that night on a little plateau of sweet grass, and after
+supper Mary told tales by the fire. Mary, bland and uncensorious, was a
+perfect chaperon. What she thought of the present situation Stonor never
+knew. He left it to Clare to come to an understanding with her. That
+they shared many a secret from which he was excluded, he knew. Mary had
+soon recovered from her terror of Clare's seeming illness.
+
+"This the story of the Wolf-Man," she began. "Once on a tam there was a
+man had two bad wives. They had no shame. That man think maybe if he go
+away where there were no other people he can teach those women to be
+good, so he move his lodge away off on the prairie. Near where they camp
+was a high hill, and every evenin' when the sun go under the man go up
+on top of the hill, and look all over the country to see where the
+buffalo was feeding, and see if any enemies come. There was a
+buffalo-skull on that hill which he sit on.
+
+"In the daytime while he hunt the women talk. 'This is ver' lonesome,'
+one say. 'We got nobody talk to, nobody to visit.'
+
+"Other woman say: 'Let us kill our husband. Then we go back to our
+relations, and have good time.'
+
+"Early in the morning the man go out to hunt. When he gone his wives go
+up the hill. Dig deep pit, and cover it with sticks and grass and dirt.
+And put buffalo-skull on top.
+
+"When the shadows grow long they see their husband coming home all bent
+over with the meat he kill. So they mak' haste to cook for him. After he
+done eating he go up on the hill and sit down on the skull. Wah! the
+sticks break, and he fall in pit. His wives are watching him. When he
+fall in they take down the lodge, pack everything, and travel to the
+main camp of their people. When they get near the big camp they begin to
+cry loud and tear their clothes.
+
+"The people come out. Say: 'Why is this? Why you cry? Where is your
+husband?'
+
+"Women say: 'He dead. Five sleeps ago go out to hunt. Never come back.'
+And they cry and tear their clothes some more.
+
+"When that man fall in the pit he was hurt. Hurt so bad can't climb out.
+Bam-bye wolf traveling along come by the pit and see him. Wolf feel
+sorry. 'Ah-h-woo-o-o! Ah-h-woo-o-o!' he howl. Other wolves hear. All
+come running. Coyotes, badgers, foxes come too.
+
+"Wolf say: 'In this hole is my find. It is a man trapped. We dig him out
+and have him for our brother.'
+
+"All think wolf speak well. All begin to dig. Soon they dig a hole
+close to the man. Then the wolf say: 'Wait! I want to say something.'
+All the animals listen. Wolf say: 'We all have this man for our brother,
+but I find him, so I say he come live with the big wolves.' The others
+say this is well, so the wolf tear down the dirt and drag the man out.
+He is almost dead. They give him a kidney to eat and take him to the
+lodge of the big wolves. Here there is one old blind wolf got very
+strong medicine. Him make that man well, and give him head and hands
+like wolf.
+
+"In those days long ago the people make little holes in the walls of the
+cache where they keep meat, and set snares. When wolves and other
+animals come to steal meat they get caught by the neck. One night wolves
+all go to the cache to steal meat. When they come close man-wolf say:
+'Wait here little while, I go down and fix place so you not get caught.'
+So he go and spring all the snares. Then he go back and get wolves,
+coyotes, badgers and foxes, and all go in the cache and make feast and
+carry meat home.
+
+"In the morning the people much surprise' find meat gone and snares
+sprung. All say, how was that done? For many nights the meat is stolen
+and the snares sprung. But one night when the wolves go there to steal
+find only meat of a tough buffalo-bull. So the man-wolf was angry and
+cry out:
+
+"'Bad-you-give-us-ooo! Bad-you-give-us-ooo!'
+
+"The people hear and say: 'It is a man-wolf who has done all this. We
+catch him now!' So they put nice back-fat and tongue in the cache, and
+hide close by. After dark the wolves come. When the man-wolf see that
+good food he run to it and eat. Then the people run in and catch him
+with ropes and take him to a lodge. Inside in the light of the fire they
+see who it is. They say: 'This is the man who was lost!'
+
+"Man say: 'No. I not lost. My wives try to kill me.' And he tell them
+how it was. He say: 'The wolves take pity on me or I die there.'
+
+"When the people hear this they angry at those bad women, and they tell
+the man to do something about it.
+
+"Man say: 'You say well. I give them to the Bull-Band, the Punishers of
+Wrong.'
+
+"After that night those two women were never seen again."
+
+Mary Moosa, when one of her stories went well, with the true instinct of
+a story-teller could seldom be persuaded to follow it with another,
+fearing an anti-climax perhaps. She turned in under her little tent, and
+soon thereafter trumpeted to the world that she slept.
+
+Stonor and Clare were left together with self-conscious, downcast eyes.
+All day they had longed for this moment, and now that it had come they
+were full of dread. Their moods had changed; chaffing was for sunny
+mornings on the river; in the exquisite, brooding dusk they hungered for
+each other. Yet both still told themselves that the secret was safe from
+the other. Finally Clare with elaborate yawns bade Stonor good-night and
+disappeared under her tent.
+
+An instinct that he could not have analysed told him she would be out
+again. Half-way down the bank in a little grassy hollow he made a nest
+for her with his blankets. When she did appear over the top of the bank
+she surveyed these preparations with a touch of haughty surprise. She
+had a cup in her hand.
+
+"Were you going to spend the night here?" she asked.
+
+"No," he said, much confused.
+
+"What is this for, then?"
+
+"I just hoped that you might come out and sit for a while."
+
+"What reason had you to think that?"
+
+"No reason. I just hoped it."
+
+"Oh! I thought you were in bed. I just came out to get a drink."
+
+Stonor, considerably dashed, took the cup and brought her water from the
+river. She sipped it and threw the rest away. He begged her to sit down.
+
+She sat in a tentative sort of way, and declined to be wrapped up. "I
+can only stay a minute."
+
+"Have you a pressing engagement?" he asked aggrievedly.
+
+"One must sleep some time," she said rebukingly.
+
+Stonor, totally unversed in the ways of women, was crushed by her
+changed air. He looked away, racking his brains to hit on what he could
+have done to offend her. She glanced at him out of the tail of her eye,
+and a wicked little dimple appeared in one cheek. He was sufficiently
+punished. She was mollified. But it was so sweet to feel her power over
+him, that she could not forbear using it just a little.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked sullenly.
+
+"Why, nothing!" she said with an indulgent smile, such as she might have
+given a small boy.
+
+An intuition told him that in a way it was like dealing with an Indian;
+to ask questions would only put him at a disadvantage. He must patiently
+wait until the truth came out of itself.
+
+In silence he chose the weapon she was least proof against. She tried to
+out-silence him, but soon began to fidget. "You're not very talkative,"
+she said at last.
+
+"I only seem to put my foot in it."
+
+"You're very stupid."
+
+"No doubt."
+
+She got up. "I'm going back to bed."
+
+"Sorry, we don't seem to be able to hit it off after supper."
+
+"I'd like to beat you!" she cried with a little gust of passion.
+
+This was more encouraging. "Why?" he asked, grinning.
+
+"You're so dense!"
+
+At last he understood, and a great peace filled him. "Sit down," he said
+coaxingly. "Let's be friends. We only have nine days more."
+
+This took her by surprise. She sat. "Why only nine days?"
+
+"When we get out your life will claim you. This little time will seem
+like a dream."
+
+She began to see then, and her heart warmed towards him. "Now I
+understand what's the matter with you!" she cried. "You think that I am
+not myself now; that this me which is talking to you is not the real me,
+but a kind of--what do they call it?--a kind of changeling. And that
+when we get back to the world, or some day soon, this me will be whisked
+away again, and my old self come back and take possession of my body."
+
+"Something like that," he said, with a rueful smile.
+
+"Oh, you hurt me when you talk like that!" she cried. "You are wrong,
+quite, quite wrong! This is my ownest self that speaks to you now; that
+is--that is your friend, and it will never change! Think a little. What
+I have lost is not essential. It is only memory. That is to say, the
+baggage that one gradually collects through life; what was impressed on
+your mind as a child; what you pick up from watching other people and
+from reading books; what people tell you you ought to do; outside ideas
+of every kind, mostly false. Well, I've chucked it all--or it has been
+chucked for me. Such as I am now, I am the woman I was born to be! And I
+will never change. I don't care if I never find my lost baggage. My
+heart is light without it. But if I do it can make no difference.
+Baggage is only baggage. And having once found your own heart you never
+could forget that."
+
+They both instinctively stood up. They did not touch each other.
+
+"Do you still doubt me?" she asked.
+
+"No."
+
+"You will see. I understand you better now. I shall not tease you any
+more. Good-night, Martin."
+
+"Good-night, Clare."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE MYSTERY
+
+
+Next morning, when they had been on the river for about three hours,
+they came upon their friend Etzooah, he of the famous hair, still
+hunting along shore in his canoe, but this time without the little boy.
+Stonor hailed him with pleasure; for of all the Kakisa Indians only this
+one had acted towards them like a man and a brother.
+
+But the policeman was doomed to disappointment. When they overtook
+Etzooah they saw that the red man's open, friendly look had changed. He
+turned a hard, wary eye on them, just like all the other Kakisas. Stonor
+guessed that he must have visited his people in the interim, and have
+been filled up with their nonsensical tales. Affecting to notice no
+change, Stonor said:
+
+"We are going to spell here. Will you eat with us?"
+
+No Indian was ever known to refuse a meal. Etzooah landed without a
+word, and sat apart waiting for it to be prepared. He made no offer to
+help, but merely sat watching them out of his inscrutable, beady eyes.
+Stonor, hoping to find him with better dispositions after he had filled
+up, let him alone.
+
+Throughout the meal Etzooah said nothing except to answer Stonor's
+questions in monosyllables. He denied having been up to Ahcunazie's
+village. Stonor was struck by the fact that he made no inquiry
+respecting his friend Imbrie. Stonor himself did not like to bring up
+the subject of Imbrie in Clare's hearing. Altogether baffled by the
+man's changed air, he finally said:
+
+"Mary, translate this just as I give it to you.--When the policeman come
+down the river he meet Etzooah. He is glad to see Etzooah. He say, here
+is a good man. Etzooah give the policeman good talk. They part friends.
+But when the policeman come back up the river Etzooah is changed. He is
+not glad to see the policeman. He gives him black looks. Why is that?
+Has anyone spoken evil of the policeman to Etzooah? He is ready to
+answer. He asks this in friendship."
+
+But it was all wasted on the Indian. He shrugged, and said with bland,
+unrelenting gaze: "Etzooah not changed. Etzooah glad to see the
+policeman come back."
+
+When they had finished eating, Clare, guessing that Stonor could talk
+more freely if she were out of hearing, strolled away to a little
+distance and sat down to do some mending.
+
+Stonor said to Etzooah through Mary: "I have bad news for you."
+
+The Indian said: "You not find White Medicine Man?"
+
+"He is dead."
+
+Etzooah's jaw dropped. He stared at Stonor queerly. "What for you tell
+me that?" he demanded.
+
+The style of the question nonplussed Stonor for the moment. "Why do I
+tell you? You said you were his friend."
+
+Etzooah veiled his eyes. "So--he dead," he said stolidly. "I sorry for
+that."
+
+Now it was perfectly clear to Stonor that while the man's first
+exclamation had been honest and involuntary, his later words were
+calculated. There was no trace of sorrow in his tones. It was all very
+puzzling.
+
+"I think he must have been crazy," Stonor went on. "He shoved off in his
+canoe, and let the current carry him down. Then he shot himself."
+
+Etzooah still studied Stonor like a man searching for ulterior motives.
+Clearly he did not believe what he was being told. "Why you think that?
+The falls never tell."
+
+"His body didn't go over the falls. It caught on a log-jam in the
+rapids."
+
+"I know that log-jam. How you know his body there?"
+
+"I brought it ashore. Mary helped me."
+
+Etzooah smiled in a superior way.
+
+Stonor, exasperated, turned to Mary. "Make it clear to him that I am
+telling the truth if it takes half-an-hour." He turned away and filled
+his pipe.
+
+Mary presumably found the means of convincing the doubter. Etzooah lost
+his mask. His mouth dropped open; he stared at Stonor with wild eyes; a
+yellowish tint crept into the ruddy copper of his skin. This agitation
+was wholly disproportionate to what Mary was telling him. Stonor
+wondered afresh. Etzooah stammered out a question.
+
+Mary said in her impassive way: "Etzooah say how we know that was the
+White Medicine Man's body?"
+
+"Was there any other man there?" said Stonor.
+
+When this was repeated to the Indian he clapped his hands to his head.
+"Non! Non!" he muttered.
+
+Stonor indicated Clare. "She said it was Imbrie's body. She was his
+wife."
+
+Etzooah stared stupidly at Clare.
+
+Suddenly he started to rise.
+
+Mary said: "He say he got go now."
+
+Stonor laid a heavy hand on the Indian's shoulder. "Sit down! Not until
+this matter is explained. Perhaps the man did not kill himself. Perhaps
+he was murdered."
+
+Etzooah seemed beside himself with terror.
+
+"Ask him what he's afraid of?"
+
+"He say he sick in his mind because his friend is dead."
+
+"Nonsense! This is not grief, but terror. Tell him I want the truth now.
+I asked as a friend at first: now I ask in the name of the law."
+
+Etzooah suddenly rolled away on the ground out of Stonor's reach. Then,
+springing to his feet with incredible swiftness, he cut for the water's
+edge. But Mary stuck out her leg in his path and he came to earth with a
+thud. Stonor secured him. Clare from where she sat looked up with
+startled eyes.
+
+"For the last time I ask you what you know about this matter," said
+Stonor sternly. "If you refuse to answer, I'll carry you outside and put
+you in the white man's jail."
+
+Etzooah answered sullenly.
+
+"He say he know not'ing," said Mary.
+
+"Get the tracking-line, and help me tie his hands and feet."
+
+When Etzooah saw that Stonor really meant to do what he said, he
+collapsed.
+
+"He say he tell now," said Mary.
+
+Etzooah spoke rapidly and tremblingly to Mary. Little doubt now that he
+was telling the truth, thought Stonor, watching him. The effect of his
+communication on the stolid Mary was startling in the extreme. She
+started back, and the same look of panic terror appeared in her eyes.
+She was unable to speak.
+
+"For God's sake, what's the matter with you all?" cried Stonor.
+
+Mary moistened her dry lips. She faltered: "He say--he say he so scare
+when you say you find Imbrie's body five sleeps ago because--because two
+sleeps ago Imbrie spell wit' him beside the river."
+
+It was the turn of Stonor's jaw to drop, and his eyes to stare.
+"But--but this is nonsense!" he cried.
+
+Clare could no longer contain her curiosity. "What is the matter,
+Martin?" she asked.
+
+"Some red-skin mumbo-jumbo," he answered angrily. "I'll soon get to the
+bottom of it."
+
+Lowering his voice, he said to Mary: "Have him tell me exactly what
+happened two sleeps ago."
+
+Mary translated as Etzooah spoke. "Two sleeps ago. The sun was half-way
+to the middle of the sky. I spell down river near the rapids on the
+point where the tepee-poles are. I see White Medicine Man come paddling
+up. I moch surprise see him all alone because I know you gone down to
+see him. I call to him. He come on shore to me."
+
+"What kind of a canoe?" asked Stonor.
+
+"Kakisa canoe. Got willow-branches in it, for cause Eembrie sit on his
+knees and paddle, not like Kakisa."
+
+This was a convincing detail. Little beads of perspiration sprang out on
+Stonor's brow.
+
+Etzooah went on: "We talk----"
+
+"Could he speak Kakisa?"
+
+"No. We talk by signs. He know some Kakisa words. I teach him that. I
+say to him Red-coat and White girl gone down river to see you. You not
+see them? How is that? Eembrie laugh: say: 'I see them, but they not see
+me. Red-coat want to get me I guess, so I run away.' Eembrie say: 'Don'
+you tell Red-coat you see me.' That is why I not want tell. I mean no
+harm. Eembrie is my friend. I not want police to get him."
+
+Stonor scarcely heard the last words. His world was tumbling around his
+ears. But Etzooah's and Mary's sly, scared glances in his face brought
+him to himself. "Anything more?" he asked harshly.
+
+Etzooah hastened on: "Eembrie moch in a hurry. Not want spell. Say he
+come away so quick got no grub but duck him shoot. I got not'ing but
+little rabbit, but I say, come to my camp, got plenty dry meat, dry
+fish. So we paddle up river till the sun is near gone under. Eembrie not
+talk much. Eembrie not want come to my camp. Not want my wife, my
+brot'er, my children see him. My camp little way from river. Eembrie
+wait beside the river. I go bring him dry meat, dry fish, matches and a
+hatchet. Eembrie go up river. That is all."
+
+The story had a convincing ring. So far as it went Stonor could scarcely
+doubt it, though there was much else that needed to be explained. It
+pricked the bubble of his brief happiness. How was he going to tell
+Clare? He had much ado to keep his face under the Indians' curious
+glances. They naturally were ascribing their terrors to him. This idea
+caused him to smile grimly.
+
+"What kind of a gun did Imbrie have?" he asked.
+
+Etzooah replied through Mary that he had not seen Imbrie's gun, that it
+was probably covered by his blankets.
+
+Stonor seemed to be pondering deeply on what he had heard. As a matter
+of fact, conscious only of the hurt he had received, he was incapable of
+consecutive thought. The damnable question reiterated itself. "How am I
+going to tell Clare?" Even now she was waiting with her eyes upon him
+for some word. He dared not look at her.
+
+He was roused by hearing Etzooah and Mary talking together in scared
+voices.
+
+"What does Etzooah say?" he demanded.
+
+Mary faltered: "He say Eembrie got ver' strong medicine. Him not stay
+dead."
+
+"That is nonsense. You saw the body. Could a man without a face come to
+life?"
+
+She asked Etzooah timidly if Imbrie's face was all right.
+
+"Well, what does he say?" Stonor demanded with a scornful smile.
+
+"He say Eembrie's face smooth lak a baby's," Mary replied with downcast
+eyes.
+
+"If Etzooah's story is true it was another man's body that we buried,"
+said Stonor dejectedly.
+
+He saw by the dogged expression on both red faces that they would not
+have this. They insisted on the supernatural explanation. In a way they
+loved the mystery that scared them half out of their wits.
+
+"What man's body was that?" asked Etzooah, challengingly.
+
+And Stonor could not answer. Etzooah insisted that no other man had gone
+down the river, certainly no white man. Stonor knew from the condition
+of the portage trail that no one had come up from below that season.
+There remained the possibility that Imbrie had brought in a companion
+with him, but everything in his shack had been designed for a single
+occupant; moreover the diary gave the lie to this supposition. Etzooah
+said that he had been to Imbrie's shack the previous fall, and there was
+no other man there then. There were moments when the bewildered
+policeman was almost forced to fall back on the supernatural
+explanation.
+
+It would never do for him, though, to betray bewilderment; not only the
+two Indians, but Clare, looked to him for guidance. He must not think of
+the wreck of his own hopes, but only of what must be done next. He rose
+stiffly, and gave Mary the word to pack up. At any rate his duty was
+clear. The fleeing Imbrie held the key to the mystery, and he must be
+captured--Imbrie, Clare's husband, and now a possible murderer!
+
+"Martin, tell me what's the matter," Clare said again, as he held the
+dug-out for her to get in.
+
+"I'll tell you as soon as I get rid of this Indian," he said, with as
+easy an air as he could muster.
+
+He ordered Etzooah to take him to his camp, as he wished to search it,
+and to question his family. The Indian stolidly prepared to obey.
+
+It was at no great distance up-stream. It consisted of three tepees
+hidden from the river, a Kakisa custom dating from the days when they
+had warlike enemies. The tepees were occupied by Etzooah's immediate
+family, and the households respectively of his brother and his
+brother-in-law.
+
+The search and the examination revealed but one significant fact, and
+that corroborated Etzooah's story. Two days before he had undoubtedly
+come into camp and had taken meat and fish from their slender store.
+Exerting the prerogative of the head of the family, he had declined to
+tell them what he wanted it for, and the women recited the fact to
+Stonor as a grievance. It was a vastly relieved Etzooah that Stonor left
+among his relatives. The fear of being carried off among the white men
+remained with him until he saw the policeman out of sight. Stonor had
+warned him to say nothing of what had happened down-river.
+
+Stonor rejoined Clare and Mary, and they continued up-stream. Stonor had
+now to tell Clare what he had learned. She was waiting for it. In her
+anxious face there was only solicitude for him, no suspicion that the
+affair concerned herself. He had wished to wait until night, but he saw
+that he could not travel all day in silence with her. No use beating
+about the bush either; she was an intelligent being and worthy of
+hearing the truth.
+
+"Clare," he began, avoiding her eyes, "you know I told you how I found
+your husband's body in the river, but I did not tell you--I merely
+wished to spare you something horrible--that it was much mutilated by
+being thrown against the rocks, especially the face."
+
+She paled. "How did you know then--how did we know that it was he?" she
+asked, with a catch in her breath.
+
+"You appeared to recognize it. You cried out his name before you
+fainted. I thought there must be certain marks known to you."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"It appears we were mistaken. It must have been the body of another man.
+According to the story the Indian has just told, Imbrie went up the
+river two days ago. The story is undoubtedly true. There were details he
+could not have invented."
+
+There was a silence. When he dared look at her, he saw with relief that
+she was not so greatly affected as he had feared. She was still thinking
+of him, Stonor.
+
+"Martin," she murmured, deprecatingly, "there's no use pretending. I
+don't seem to feel it much except through you. You are so distressed.
+For myself it all seems--so unreal."
+
+He nodded. "That's natural."
+
+She continued to study his face. "Martin, there's worse behind?" she
+said suddenly.
+
+He looked away.
+
+"You suspect that this man ... my husband ... whom I do not know ...
+that other man ... murder, perhaps?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+She covered her face with her hands. But only for a moment. When they
+came down she could still smile at him.
+
+"Martin, do not look so, or I shall hate myself for having brought all
+this on you."
+
+"That's silly," he said gruffly.
+
+She did not misunderstand the gruffness. "Do not torment yourself so.
+It's a horrible situation, unspeakably horrible. But it's none of our
+making. We can face it. I can, if I am sure you will always--be my
+friend--even though we are parted."
+
+He raised his head. After all she was the comforter. "You make me
+ashamed," he said. "Of course we can face it!"
+
+"Perhaps I can help you. I must try to remember now. We must work at it
+like a problem that does not concern us especially."
+
+"Have you the diary?" he asked suddenly. "That's essential now."
+
+"Did I have it?"
+
+"In the side pocket of your coat."
+
+"It's not there now. It's not among my things. I haven't seen it
+since--I came to myself."
+
+He concealed his disappointment. "Oh, well, if it was left in the shack
+it will be safe there. I'm sure no Indian would go within fifty miles of
+the spot now."
+
+"Have you any idea who the dead man could have been?"
+
+"Not the slightest. It's a black mystery."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+IMBRIE
+
+
+Stonor went ashore at Ahcunazie's village, searched every tepee, and
+questioned the inhabitants down to the very children. The result was
+nil. The Indians one and all denied that Imbrie had come back up the
+river. Stonor was convinced that they were lying. He said nothing of
+what had happened down at the falls, though the young Kakisa, Ahteeah,
+displayed no little curiosity on his own account.
+
+They went on, making the best time they could against the current. Clare
+wielded a third paddle now. The river was no less beautiful; the brown
+flood moved with the same grace between the dark pines; but they had
+changed. They scarcely noticed it. When they talked it was to discuss
+the problem that faced them in businesslike voices. Like the Kakisas
+they searched the shores now, but they were looking for two-legged game.
+What other Indians they met on the river likewise denied having seen
+Imbrie.
+
+Stonor had in mind the fact that the devoted Kakisas could hide Imbrie
+in any one of a thousand places along the shores. It was impossible for
+him to make a thorough search single-handed, nor did he feel justified
+in remaining on the river with Clare. His plan was to return to Fort
+Enterprise as quickly as possible, making the best search he could by
+the way, and, after obtaining assistance, to return. In the end, unless
+he got out, the river would be like a trap for Imbrie. It was quite
+likely that he understood this, and was even now struggling to get away
+as far as possible.
+
+On the morning of the tenth day after leaving Imbrie's shack they
+arrived at the Horse Track, and Ahchoogah's village. Their coming was
+hailed with the same noisy excitement, in which there was no trace of a
+welcome. Stonor instantly sought out the head man, and abruptly demanded
+to know when Imbrie had returned, and where he had gone. Ahchoogah, with
+the most perfect air of surprise, denied all knowledge of the White
+Medicine Man, and in his turn sought to question Stonor as to what had
+happened. It was possible, of course, that Ahchoogah's innocence was
+real, but he had the air of an accomplished liar. He could not quite
+conceal the satisfaction he took in his own fine acting.
+
+Stonor posted Clare at the door of the shack, whence she could overlook
+the entire village, with instructions to raise an alarm if she saw
+anybody trying to escape. Meanwhile, with Mary, he made his usual search
+among the tepees, questioning all the people. Nothing resulted from
+this, but on his rounds he was greatly elated to discover among the
+canoes lying in the little river the one with the peculiar notches cut
+in the bow-thwart. So he was still on his man's track! He said nothing
+to any one of his find.
+
+He set himself to puzzle out in which direction Imbrie would likely next
+have turned. Certainly not to Fort Enterprise; that would be sticking
+his head in the lion's mouth. It was possible Ahchoogah might have
+concealed him in the surrounding bush, but Stonor doubted that, for they
+knew that the policeman must soon be back, and their instinct would be
+to get the man safely out of his way. There remained the third Kakisa
+village at Swan Lake, seventy miles up the river, but in that case, why
+should he not have gone on in the canoe? However, Stonor learned from
+Mary that it was customary for the Kakisas to ride to Swan Lake. While
+it was three days' paddle up-stream it could be ridden in a day. In
+fact, everything pointed to Swan Lake. If Imbrie was trying to get out
+of the country altogether the upper Swan provided the only route in this
+direction. Stonor decided to take the time to pay a little surprise
+visit to the village there.
+
+Stonor announced at large that he was returning to Fort Enterprise that
+same day. Ahchoogah's anxiety to speed his departure further assured him
+that he was on the right track. Collecting their horses and packing up,
+they were ready for the trail about five that afternoon. The Indians
+were more cordial in bidding them farewell than they had been in
+welcoming them. There was a suspicious note of "good riddance" in it.
+
+After an hour's riding they came to the first good grass, a charming
+little "prairie" beside the stream that Clare had christened Meander.
+Stonor dismounted, and the two women, reining up, looked at him in
+surprise, for they had eaten just before leaving the Indian village, and
+the horses were quite fresh, of course.
+
+"Would you and Mary be afraid to stay here all night without me?" he
+asked Clare.
+
+"Not if it is necessary," she answered promptly. "That is, if you are
+not going into danger," she added.
+
+He laughed. "Danger! Not the slightest! I think I know where Imbrie is.
+I'm going after him."
+
+Clare's eyes widened. "I thought you had given him up for the present."
+
+He shook his head. "I couldn't tell you back there, but I found his
+canoe among the others."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To the Kakisa village at Swan Lake."
+
+He saw Mary's expression change slightly, and took encouragement
+therefrom. Mary, he knew, divided between her loyalty to Clare and her
+allegiance to her own people, was in a difficult position. Stonor was
+very sure, though, that he could depend on her to stand by Clare.
+
+"Haven't you come far out of your way?" Clare asked.
+
+"Not so far as you might think. We've been travelling south the last few
+miles. By crossing the Meander here and heading east through the bush
+I'll hit the Swan River in four miles or so. I'll be out of the bush
+long before dark. I've heard there's a short-cut trail somewhere, if I
+only knew where to find it."
+
+He said this purposely within Mary's hearing. She spoke up: "Other side
+this little prairie where the ford is. There the trail begins."
+
+Stonor was not a little touched by this. "Good for you, Mary!" he said
+simply. "I shan't forget it. You've saved me a struggle through the
+bush."
+
+Mary only looked inscrutable. One had to take her feelings for granted.
+
+"When will you be back?" Clare asked.
+
+"By land it's about ninety miles' round trip. As I must ride the same
+horse the whole way, say three or four to-morrow afternoon. I won't take
+Miles Aroon, he's too valuable to risk. I'll ride the bay. If anything
+should delay me Tole Grampierre is due to arrive from the post day after
+to-morrow."
+
+They made camp beside the ford that Mary pointed out. Clare waved Stonor
+out of sight with a smile. His mind was at ease about her, for he knew
+of no dangers that could threaten her there, if her fears created none.
+
+The side trail was little-used and rough, and he was forced to proceed
+at a slow walk: the roughest trail, however, is infinitely better than
+the untrodden bush. This part of the country had been burned over years
+before, and the timber was poplar and fairly open. Long before dark he
+came into the main trail between the two Indian villages. This was
+well-travelled and hard, and he needed to take no further thought about
+picking his way; the horse attended to that. For the most part the going
+was so good he had to hold his beast in, to keep him from tiring too
+quickly. He saw the river only at intervals on his right hand in its
+wide sweeps back and forth through its shallow valley.
+
+He spelled for his supper, and darkness came on. Stonor loved travelling
+at night, and the unknown trail added a zest to this ride. The night
+world was as quiet as a room. Where one can see less one feels more. The
+scents of night hung heavy on the still air; the pungency of poplar, the
+mellowness of balsam, the bland smell of river-water that makes the skin
+tingle with desire to bathe, the delicate acidity of grass that caused
+his horse to whicker. The trail alternated pretty regularly between
+wooded ridges, where the stones caused him to slacken his pace, and long
+traverses of the turfy river-bottoms, where he could give his horse his
+head. Twice during the night he picketed his horse in the grass, and
+took a short nap himself. At dawn, from the last ridge, he saw the pale
+expanse of Swan Lake stretching to the horizon, and at sun-up he rode
+among the tepees of the Kakisa village.
+
+It was built on the edge of the firm ground bordering the lake, though
+the lake itself was still half a mile distant across a wet meadow. Swan
+Lake was not a true lake, but merely a widening of the river where it
+filled a depression among its low hills. With its flat, reedy shores it
+had more the characteristics of a prairie slough. As in the last
+village, the tepees were raised in a double row alongside a small stream
+which made its way across the meadow to the lake. In the middle of their
+village the stream rippled over shallows, and here they had placed
+stepping-stones for their convenience in crossing. Below it was sluggish
+and deep, and here they kept their canoes. These Kakisas used both
+dug-outs, for the lake, and bark-canoes for the river. The main body of
+the lake stretched to the west and south: off to Stonor's right it
+gradually narrowed down to the ordinary dimensions of the river.
+
+When Stonor reined up alongside the little stream not a soul was
+stirring outside the tepees. He had at least succeeded in taking them by
+surprise. The first man who stuck his head out, aroused by the dogs,
+was, to his astonishment, white. But when Stonor got a good look at him
+he could scarcely credit his eyes. It was none other than Hooliam, the
+handsome young blackguard he had deported from Carcajou Point two months
+before. Seeing the policeman, Hooliam hastily made to withdraw his head,
+but Stonor ordered him out in no uncertain terms. He obeyed with his
+inimitable insolent grin.
+
+Stonor dismounted, letting his reins hang. The well-trained horse stood
+where he left him. "What are you doing here?" the policeman demanded.
+
+"Just travelling," drawled Hooliam. "Any objection?"
+
+"I'll take up your case later. First I want the white man Ernest Imbrie.
+Which tepee is he in?"
+
+Hooliam stared, and a peculiar grin wreathed itself around his lips.
+"I've seen no white man here," he said. "Except myself. They call me a
+white man." He spoke English without a trace of the red man's clipped
+idiom.
+
+Stonor's glance of scorn was significant. It meant: "What are you doing
+in the tepees, then?"
+
+But the other was quite unabashed. "I'll get Myengeen for you," he said,
+turning to go.
+
+He seemed a bit too eager. Stonor laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+"You stay where you are."
+
+Meanwhile the little Kakisas had begun to appear from the tepees, the
+men hanging back bashfully, the women and children peering from under
+flaps and under the edges of the tepees, with scared eyes.
+
+"I want Myengeen," said Stonor to the nearest man.
+
+All heads turned to a figure crossing the stream. Stonor waited for him,
+keeping an eye on Hooliam meanwhile. The individual who approached was a
+little larger than the average of the Kakisas; well-favoured, and with a
+great shock of blue-black hair hanging to his neck. He was quite
+sprucely dressed in store clothes. His close-set eyes and extremely
+short upper lip gave him a perpetual sneer. He had the walled look of a
+bold child caught in mischief. He came up to Stonor and offered his hand
+with a defiant air, saying: "How!"
+
+Stonor shook hands with him, affecting not to notice the signs of
+truculence. The other Indians, encouraged by the presence of their head
+man, drew closer.
+
+"I want Ernest Imbrie," Stonor said sternly. "Where is he?"
+
+Myengeen could speak no English, but the spoken name and the tone were
+significant enough. He fell back a step, and scowled at Stonor as if he
+suspected him of a desire to make fun of him. Then his eyes went
+involuntarily to Hooliam. Stonor, following his glance, was struck by
+the odd, self-conscious leer on Hooliam's comely face. Suddenly it
+flashed on him that this was his man. His face went blank with
+astonishment. The supposed Hooliam laughed outright.
+
+"Is _this_ Imbrie??" cried Stonor.
+
+Myengeen nodded sullenly.
+
+Hooliam said something in Kakisa that caused the surrounding Indians to
+grin covertly.
+
+And in truth there was a comic aspect to Stonor's dismay. His brain was
+whirling. This hardy young villain married to the exquisite Clare! This
+the saviour of the Indians! This the high-minded gentleman whose diary
+Clare had read to him! It was inexplicable. Yet Stonor suddenly
+remembered Hooliam's curiosity concerning the reports that were in
+circulation about the White Medicine Man; this was understandable now.
+But how could Clare have so stooped----? Well, it must be left to time
+to unravel.
+
+He pulled himself together. "So you're Imbrie," he said grimly.
+
+"That was my dad's name," was the impudent reply.
+
+"I'll have to trouble you to take a journey with me."
+
+"What's the charge?"
+
+"Oh, we merely want to look into your doings up here."
+
+"You have no right to arrest me without some evidence of wrong-doing."
+
+"Well, I'm going to arrest you anyhow, and take my chances of proving
+something on you."
+
+Hooliam scowled and pulled at his lip.
+
+Stonor thought: "You'd give a lot to know how much I know, my man!"
+
+Myengeen addressed Imbrie. Stonor watched him narrowly. He could only
+understand one word, the man's name, "Eembrie," but Myengeen's whole
+attitude to the other was significant. There was respect in it;
+admiration, not unmixed with awe. Stonor wondered afresh. Clearly there
+could be no doubt this was their White Medicine Man.
+
+Imbrie said to Stonor, with his cynical laugh: "I suppose you want to
+know what he's saying. I don't understand it all. I'm just learning
+their lingo. But he's offering me the homage of the tribe or something
+like that."
+
+"It's more than you deserve," thought Stonor. Aloud he said: "Imbrie, if
+you do what I tell you you can ride as you are. But if you want to make
+trouble I'll have to tie you up. So take your choice."
+
+"Oh, I don't hanker after any hempen bracelets," said Imbrie. "What do
+you want of me?"
+
+"First of all order somebody to bring out all your gear and spread it on
+the ground."
+
+"That's not much," said Imbrie. By word and by sign he communicated the
+order to one of the Kakisas. It seemed to Stonor that something was
+reserved.
+
+The Indian disappeared in the tepee and presently returned with Imbrie's
+"bed," that is to say, a pair of heavy blankets and a small, grimy
+pillow, and Imbrie's hatchet.
+
+"That's all I brought," said Imbrie, "except a little dried moose-meat,
+and that's eaten up."
+
+"I want your gun," said Stonor.
+
+"Didn't bring any."
+
+"Then what are you wearing a cartridge-belt for?" Imbrie shrugged
+airily.
+
+"Produce your gun, or I'll tie you up, and search for it myself."
+
+Imbrie spoke, and the Kakisa disappeared again, returning with a
+revolver, which he handed to Stonor. Stonor was careful not to betray
+the grim satisfaction he experienced at the sight of it. It was of
+thirty-eight calibre, the same as the bullet that reposed in his pocket.
+While not conclusive, perhaps, this was strong evidence. Since he had
+seen this man he had lost his dread of bringing the crime home to him.
+He wished to convict him now. He dropped the revolver in his side
+pocket, and held out his hand for the ammunition-belt, which was handed
+over.
+
+"Now get a horse," he said.
+
+Myengeen objected with violent shakes of the head.
+
+"He says he's got no horses to hand over," said Imbrie, grinning.
+
+"Make him understand that I will give a receipt for the horse. If it is
+not returned the company will pay in trade."
+
+"No spare horses," he says.
+
+"Let him give you the horse you came on."
+
+"I walked."
+
+Stonor did not believe this for a moment. "Very well then, you can walk
+back," he said coolly.
+
+Imbrie thought better of this. He entered into a colloquy with Myengeen
+which eventually resulted in a horse being caught and led up and
+saddled. Stonor gave a receipt for it as promised. Myengeen handled the
+bit of paper fearfully.
+
+"Now mount!" said Stonor.
+
+"Aren't you going to let me have my breakfast?"
+
+"We'll spell beside the trail."
+
+Myengeen became visibly excited and began to harangue Imbrie in a fiery
+style, with sidelong looks at the policeman. Stonor out of the tail of
+his eye saw answering scowls gather on the faces of the other Indians as
+they listened. Myengeen's gestures were significant; with a sweep of his
+arm he called attention to the number of his followers, and then pointed
+to Stonor, who was but one.
+
+Imbrie said with a sneering laugh: "He's telling me that I have only to
+say the word, and you'll never take me."
+
+"Rubbish!" said Stonor coolly. "Men do not oppose the police."
+
+They could not understand the words, but the tone intimidated them.
+Their eyes bolted as he looked sternly from man to man. He saw that look
+of angry pain come into their eyes that he knew in their race. It was
+not that they did not wish to defy him, but they dared not, and they
+knew they dared not.
+
+"Oh, I'm helping you out, old man," said Imbrie, with airy impudence.
+"I'm telling them I don't mind going with you, because you've got
+nothing in the world against me. I'm going to give them some good advice
+now. Listen."
+
+He did indeed address Myengeen earnestly at some length. Stonor could
+not guess what he was saying, for he used no gestures. He saw that it
+was true Imbrie was unpractised in their tongue, for he spoke with
+difficulty, hesitating for words, and they had to pay close attention to
+get his meaning. Myengeen listened with a face as inscrutable as
+Imbrie's own. At the end he nodded with an expression of approval, and
+bent a queer look on Stonor that the trooper was unable to fathom.
+
+Imbrie then tied his bed behind his saddle and swung himself on the
+horse. Stonor signed to him to start first, and they trotted out from
+among the tepees. Stonor sat stiffly with the butt of his gun on his
+thigh, and disdained to look around. The instant they got in motion a
+wailing sound swept from tepee to tepee. Stonor wondered greatly at the
+hold this fellow had obtained over the simple people; even the Kakisas,
+it seemed to him, should have been able to see that he was no good.
+
+They trotted smartly over the first ridge and out of sight. A long,
+grassy bottom followed. When they had put what Stonor considered a safe
+distance between them and the village, he called a halt. Picketing the
+horses, and building a fire, he set about preparing their simple meal.
+Imbrie seemed willing enough to do his share of unpacking, fetching wood
+and water, etc.; indeed in his cynical way he was almost good-natured.
+
+As they sat over their meal he said tauntingly: "Why are you afraid to
+tell me what the charge is against me?"
+
+Stonor had no intention of letting out what he knew. He figured that
+Imbrie's mind was probably perfectly at ease regarding the
+murder--always supposing there had been a murder--because he could not
+possibly guess that the body had not been carried over the falls. He
+retorted: "If your conscience is easy, what do you care what charge is
+made?"
+
+"Naturally I want to know why I'm obliged to upset all my plans to make
+this journey."
+
+"There is no charge yet."
+
+"But when you bring me in you'll have to make some kind of a charge."
+
+"Oh, I suppose they'll merely ask you to explain your business up here."
+
+"And if I stand on my rights as a free man, and refuse to tell my
+business?"
+
+Stonor shrugged. "That's not up to me. I shan't be the one to question
+you."
+
+"Is it a crime to live alone?"
+
+"No. But why did you run away when I came to see you?"
+
+"I didn't run away."
+
+"Don't know what you call it, then. When you saw us coming you hid in a
+tree."
+
+"Who was us?" asked Imbrie, with a leer.
+
+Stonor could not bring himself to name Clare's name to the man. "I think
+you know," he said quietly. "When night came you fell or jumped out of
+the tree, and took to the bush. Later you attempted to sneak into the
+house----"
+
+"Well, it was my own house, wasn't it?"
+
+"Sure, that's what puzzles me. What were you afraid of? Then when the
+Indian woman screamed you lit out for the beach, and beat it up the
+river."
+
+"Well, was that a crime?"
+
+"No, only a suspicious circumstance. Frankly, now, don't you consider
+yourself a suspicious character?"
+
+"Oh, it's your business to suspect everybody!"
+
+"Well, when I first met you, why did you lie to me concerning your
+identity?"
+
+"I didn't lie. I just kept the truth to myself."
+
+"You told me your name was Hooliam."
+
+"Can't a man have more than one baptismal name?"
+
+"Is it Ernest William, or William Ernest?" asked Stonor mockingly.
+
+"I shan't tell you. I shan't tell you anything about myself until I
+know what I'm wanted for. I suppose that's my right, isn't it?"
+
+"Sure!" said Stonor good-naturedly. "Anything you like. Travellers must
+be saying something to each other."
+
+But Imbrie was not content to let the matter drop. There was a little
+gnawing anxiety somewhere. He burst out: "And have I got to put myself
+to the trouble of taking this long journey, just because you're too
+thick-witted to understand my perfectly natural motives?"
+
+"Put it that way if you like," said Stonor, grinning. "The police _are_
+thick sometimes in dealing with clever fellows like you."
+
+"Well, I'll tell you. I came up to this country because I choose to live
+alone. My reasons are my own affair. I'm not wanted by the police of
+this or any other country. But I don't choose to be spied on and
+followed up. That's why I got out of the way."
+
+"Did you live alone down there?" asked Stonor casually.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, there was that lady who left Carcajou Point with you."
+
+"Oh, that was just a temporary affair," said Imbrie, with a leer.
+
+Stonor, thinking of Clare, could have struck him for it. With an effort
+he swallowed his rage. "Did you never have any visitors?" he asked
+coolly.
+
+Imbrie favoured him with a lightning glance. "What put that idea into
+your head?"
+
+Stonor lied in the good cause. "One of the Indians said you had a
+visitor."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Just a few days before we went down."
+
+"What kind of visitor?"
+
+"A man much like yourself," said Stonor.
+
+Imbrie lost his grin for the moment. "It's a lie," he said thickly.
+
+"Oh, well, it's no crime to have a visitor," said Stonor smoothly.
+
+Imbrie saw his mistake, and quickly commanded himself. He laughed
+easily. "Just my way," he said. "I'm cracked on the subject of living
+alone."
+
+They had to spell at short intervals during the day, for Stonor's horse
+was growing very tired. Whenever they halted they began to fence with
+words in much the same way, each trying to discover the other's weak
+joint without letting down his own guard. It seemed to Stonor that,
+under his cynical insolence, his prisoner was growing ever more anxious.
+
+On one occasion Imbrie said with a careless air: "Did you see the big
+falls when you were down the river?"
+
+"No," said Stonor instantly.
+
+"Very fine sight."
+
+It occurred to Stonor that a certain amount of curiosity on his part
+would appear natural. "What are they like?"
+
+Imbrie looked at him through slightly narrowed lids. "Big horse-shoe
+effect. The water falls all around in a sort of half-circle, and there
+are tremendous rocks below. The water falls on the rocks."
+
+This description sounded purposely misleading. The place, of course, was
+not like that at all. Stonor thought: "What does he tell me that for?
+Living there all that time, it isn't possible he hasn't seen the falls.
+In his diary he mentioned going there." Suddenly the explanation came to
+him. "I know! He's trying to tempt me to call him a liar, and then he'll
+know I've been there."
+
+"Must be great!" he said offhand.
+
+During the last spell Imbrie slept part of the time. Stonor dared not
+close his eyes, though he needed sleep sorely. He sat smoking and
+watching Imbrie, trying to speculate on what lay behind that smooth,
+comely mask.
+
+"It's like a book I read once," he thought. "A man had two natures in
+him, one good, one bad. At one time the good nature would have the upper
+hand; at another time the bad. He was like two entirely different
+people. A case of double personality, they called it. It must be
+something like that with this man. Clare married the good man in him,
+and the bad turned up later. No doubt that was why she left him. Then
+the good man reappeared, and she felt she had done him a wrong. It
+explains everything."
+
+But a theory may work too perfectly to fit the haphazard facts of life.
+There was still the dead man to be explained. And a theory, however
+perfect, did not bring him any nearer to solving the personal problems
+concerned. What was one to do with a man who was at once sane and
+irresponsible? He could give up Clare like a man, he told himself, if it
+were necessary to her happiness; but to give her up to this----! He
+jumped up and shook himself with the gesture that was becoming habitual.
+He could not allow himself to dwell on that subject; frenzy lay that
+way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE RESCUE
+
+
+They had struck off from the main trail between the two Indian villages,
+and were within a mile or two of Stonor's camp. Their pace was slow, for
+the going was bad, and Stonor's horse was utterly jaded. The trooper's
+face was set in grim lines. He was thinking of the scene that waited
+ahead.
+
+Imbrie, too, had the grace to look anxious and downcast. He had been
+exasperatingly chipper all the way, until it had occurred to him just
+now to ask Stonor what he had done with the women. Upon learning that
+they were waiting just ahead, his feathers drooped. A whine crept into
+his voice, and, without saying anything definite, he began to hedge in
+an odd way.
+
+"The truth about this case hasn't come out yet," he said.
+
+"I never thought it had," said Stonor.
+
+"Well, a man under arrest has the right to lie to protect his interests,
+at least until he has the opportunity to consult a lawyer."
+
+"Sure, and an officer has the right to draw his own inferences from the
+lies."
+
+"Hell! I don't care what you think. As you said, you're not going to try
+me."
+
+"When did you lie to me?"
+
+"Well, if I thought it necessary to lie to you awhile ago, I'm not going
+to tell the truth now."
+
+"All right. Why bring the matter up?"
+
+"I just wanted to warn you not to jump to conclusions."
+
+The trooper was dead tired, and dead sick of gazing at the smooth, evil
+face of his companion. "Oh, go to hell!" he said. "You talk too much!"
+
+Imbrie subsided into a sullen silence.
+
+Stonor thought: "For some reason he's afraid of meeting Clare. I suppose
+that's natural enough when he's like this. He must know what's the
+matter with him. Probably he hates everything connected with his better
+side. Well, if he doesn't want Clare it may simplify matters." Thus he
+was still making his theory work.
+
+At last they came out from among the trees, and the little grassy valley
+of the Meander lay below them. There were the three little tents pitched
+on the other side of the stream, and the four horses quietly grazing in
+the bottom. Mary was baking bread at the fire. It was a picture of
+peace, and Stonor's first anxiety for their safety was relieved.
+
+He had not the heart to hail them; they would see soon enough. And
+almost immediately Mary did look up and see the two horsemen. She spoke
+over her shoulder, and Clare quickly appeared from her tent. The two
+women awaited them motionless.
+
+Imbrie still rode ahead, hunched in his saddle. He glanced over his
+shoulder, and Stonor saw that a sickly yellow tint had crept under his
+skin. He looked at Stonor's failing horse. Suddenly he clapped heels to
+his own beast, and, jerking the animal's head round, circled Stonor and
+attempted to regain the trail behind him. He evidently counted on the
+fact that the policeman would be unable to follow.
+
+To urge his spent beast to a run would only have been to provoke a fall.
+Stonor made no attempt to follow. Pulling his horse round, he whipped up
+his gun and fired into the air. It was sufficient. Imbrie pulled up.
+Stonor possessed himself of the other's bridle-rein and turned him round
+again. They said nothing to each other.
+
+They splashed across the shallow ford. On the other side Stonor curtly
+bade Imbrie to dismount and ungirth. He did likewise. Clare and Mary
+awaited their coming at a few paces' distance. Clare's eyes were fixed
+on Imbrie with a painful intensity. Curiosity and apprehension were
+blended in her gaze. Imbrie avoided looking at her as long as possible.
+
+They turned out the weary beasts to the grass, and Stonor marched his
+prisoner up to Clare--there was no use trying to hedge with what had to
+be gone through.
+
+"Here is Imbrie," he said laconically.
+
+The man moistened his dry lips, and mustered a kind of bravado. "Hello,
+Clare!" he said flippantly.
+
+"Do you recognize him?" asked Stonor--dreading her answer.
+
+"No--I don't know--perhaps," she stammered. "I feel that I have seen him
+before somewhere."
+
+Imbrie's face underwent an extraordinary change. He stared at Clare
+dumbfounded.
+
+"You're sure," murmured Clare uncertainly to Stonor.
+
+"Oh, yes, this is the Kakisas' White Medicine Man."
+
+Imbrie turned sharply to Stonor. "What's the matter with her?" he
+demanded.
+
+"She's temporarily lost her memory."
+
+"Lost her memory!" echoed Imbrie incredulously. He stared at Clare with
+sharp, eager eyes that transfixed her like a spear. She turned away to
+escape it. Imbrie drew a long breath, the ruddy colour returned to his
+cheeks, the old impudent grin wreathed itself about his lips once more.
+
+"Too bad!" he said, with a leer. "You don't recognize your hubby!"
+
+Clare shrank back, and involuntarily flung an arm up over her face.
+
+Stonor saw red. "Hold your tongue!" he cried, suddenly beside himself.
+
+Imbrie cringed from the clenched fist. "Can't a man speak to his wife?"
+he snarled.
+
+"Speak to her with respect, or I'll smash you!"
+
+"You daren't! You've got to treat me well. It's regulations."
+
+"Damn the regulations! You mind what I tell you!"
+
+Imbrie looked from one to another with insufferable malice. "Ah! So
+that's the way the wind lies," he drawled.
+
+Stonor turned on his heel and walked away, grinding his teeth in the
+effort to get a grip on himself.
+
+Imbrie was never one to forego such an advantage. He looked from one to
+another with bright, spiteful eyes. When Stonor came back he said:
+
+"You must excuse me if I gave you a turn. To tell the truth, a man
+forgets how attractive his wife is. I'm sorry I had to turn up, old man.
+Perhaps you didn't know that she had a Mrs. to her name. She took back
+her maiden name, they told me."
+
+"I knew it very well," said Stonor. "Since before we started to look for
+you."
+
+"Well, if you knew it, that's your look-out," said Imbrie. "You can't
+say I didn't do my best to keep out of your way."
+
+This was intolerable. Stonor suddenly bethought himself what to do. In a
+low voice he bade Mary bring him the tracking-line. Imbrie, who stood
+stroking his chin and surveying them with the air of master of the
+situation, lost countenance when he saw the rope. Stonor cut off an end
+of it.
+
+"What's that for?" demanded Imbrie.
+
+"Turn round and put your hands behind you," said the policeman.
+
+Imbrie defiantly folded his arms.
+
+Stonor smiled. "If you resist my orders," he said softly, "there is no
+need for me to hold my hand.--Put your hands behind you!" he suddenly
+rasped.
+
+Imbrie thought better to obey. Stonor bound his wrists firmly together.
+He then led Imbrie a hundred yards from their camp, and, making him sit
+in the grass, tied his ankles and invited him to meditate.
+
+"I'll get square with you for this, old man!" snarled Imbrie. "You had
+no right to tie me up!"
+
+"I didn't like the style of your conversation," said Stonor coolly.
+
+"You're damn right, you didn't! You snivelling preacher! You snooper
+after other men's wives! Oh, I've got you where I want you now! Any
+charge you bring against me will look foolish when I tell them----"
+
+"Tell them what?"
+
+"Tell them you're after her!"
+
+Stonor walked away and left the man.
+
+Clare still stood in the same place like a carven woman. She waited for
+him with wide, harassed eyes. As he came to her she said simply:
+
+"This is worse than I expected."
+
+"The man is not right in his head!" said Stonor. "There is something
+queer. Don't pay any attention to him. Don't think of him."
+
+"But I must think of him; I can't escape it. What do you mean by not
+right?"
+
+"A screw loose somewhere. What they call a case of double personality,
+perhaps. It is the only way to reconcile what you told me about him and
+what we see."
+
+Clare's glance was turned inward in the endeavour to solve the riddle of
+her own blind spot. She said slowly: "I have known him somewhere; I am
+sure of that. But he is strange to me. He makes my blood run cold. I
+cannot explain it."
+
+"Do not brood on it," urged Stonor.
+
+She transferred her thoughts to Stonor. "You look utterly worn out. Will
+you sleep now?"
+
+"Yes. We won't leave here until morning. My horse must have a good
+rest."
+
+"You'd wait for him, but not for yourself!"
+
+"Tole ought to be along in the morning to help pack, and to guard the
+prisoner."
+
+Before Stonor had a chance to lie down, Imbrie called him. There was a
+propitiatory note in his voice.
+
+The trooper went to him. "What do you want?" he asked sternly.
+
+"Say, I'm sorry I riled you, Sergeant," said Imbrie with a grin. "I was
+a bit carried off my feet by the situation. I'll be more careful
+hereafter. Untie this damned rope, will you?"
+
+Stonor slowly shook his head. "I think we're both better off with a
+little distance between us."
+
+Imbrie repented of his honeyed tones. His lip curled back. But he made
+an effort to control himself. "Aren't you afraid your spotless
+reputation will suffer?" he asked, sneering.
+
+"Not a bit!" said Stonor promptly.
+
+Imbrie was taken aback. "Well--can I speak to my wife for a minute?" he
+asked sullenly.
+
+Stonor observed, wincing, how he loved to bring out the word "wife."
+"That's up to her," he answered. "I'll put it to her."
+
+Returning to Clare, he said: "He wants to speak to you."
+
+She shrank involuntarily. "What should I do, Martin?"
+
+"I see nothing to be gained by it," said Stonor quickly.
+
+"But if, as you say, in a way he's sick, perhaps I ought----"
+
+"He's not too sick to have a devil in him. Leave him alone!"
+
+She shook her head. She was gaining in firmness. "It won't hurt me to
+hear what he has to say. It may throw some light on the situation."
+
+"I doubt it," said Stonor. "His object is to raise as much dust as
+possible. But go ahead. If he's insulting, leave him instantly. And
+don't let him know what I suspect him of."
+
+She went, and Stonor walked up and down in the grass in a fever until
+she returned. She was with Imbrie some little time. Stonor could not
+guess of what they talked. Clare's white composed face, and Imbrie's
+invariable grin, told him nothing.
+
+The instant she came towards him he burst out: "He didn't annoy you?"
+
+She shook her head. "No, he seemed quite anxious to please. He
+apologized for what he said before."
+
+Stonor said, blushing and scowling: "Perhaps you do not care to tell me
+what you----"
+
+"Certainly!" she said, with a quick look. "Don't be silly, Martin. It
+was just what you might expect. Nothing important. He asked me dozens of
+questions as to what we did down the river."
+
+"You did not tell him?"
+
+"How could I? Apparently he is greatly puzzled by my condition. He seems
+not fully to believe, or at least he pretends not to believe, that I
+cannot remember. He tried to work on my feelings to get you to liberate
+him. And of course he was most anxious to know what he was wanted for. I
+told him I could not interfere in your affairs, that's all."
+
+Stonor nodded.
+
+"Martin," she said, with the withdrawn look that he had marked before,
+"I cannot remember anything, yet I am conscious of a deep resentment
+against this man. At some time in the past he has injured me cruelly, I
+am sure.--Yet I told you I had injured him, didn't I?" She passed a hand
+across her face. "It is very puzzling."
+
+"Don't worry!" he said cheerily. "It's bound to be made clear in the
+end."
+
+"You wish to do all the worrying, don't you?" she said, with a wry
+smile.
+
+He could not meet her dear eyes. "Worry nothing!" he cried. "I only have
+one idea in my mind, and that is to get some sleep!" He bustled to get
+his blankets.
+
+They awoke him for the evening meal. After eating, he inspected his
+camp, sent Clare to bed, moved Imbrie closer, instructed Mary to keep
+watch that he did not succeed in freeing himself, and went back to sleep
+again. Mary was to call him at dawn, and they would take the trail at
+sunrise.
+
+In the middle of the night he was brought leaping to his feet by a cry
+out of the dark: a cry that was neither from wolf, coyote, nor
+screech-owl. Wakened from a deep sleep, his consciousness was aware only
+of something dreadful. Outside the tent Mary ran to him: her teeth were
+chattering with terror: she could not speak. Clare crept from her tent.
+Both women instinctively drew close to their protector.
+
+"What was it?" Clare asked, tremblingly.
+
+A shriek answered her; a dreadful urgent cry of agony that made the
+whole night shudder. It came from a little way down the trail, from the
+edge of the woods perhaps, not more than a quarter of a mile away.
+
+"A human voice!" gasped Clare.
+
+"A woman's!" muttered Stonor grimly.
+
+Again it shattered the stillness, this time more dreadful, for they
+heard words in their own tongue. "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!" Then a
+horrible pause, and with added urgency: "Help! Help!"
+
+"By God! English words!" cried Stonor, astounded.
+
+"Go to her! Go to her!" cried Clare, urging him with her hands.
+
+On the other hand, Mary, falling to her knees, clung to him, fairly
+gibbering in the extremity of her terror.
+
+Stonor was suspicious, yet every instinct of manliness drew him towards
+these cries. Under that pull it was impossible to think clearly. He
+shook Mary off, and started to run. He took three steps and pulled
+himself up short.
+
+"Look at Imbrie," he muttered. "Strange he hasn't wakened."
+
+It was true the prisoner still lay motionless, entirely covered with his
+blanket.
+
+"It's a trick!" said Stonor. "There could be no English woman near here.
+It's a trick to draw me out of camp!"
+
+"But none of the Kakisas could speak English," said Clare.
+
+"I don't know," muttered Stonor, in an agony of indecision. "My first
+duty is here. Look at Mary. She thinks it's a trick."
+
+Mary was lying on the ground, muttering a Kakisa word over and over.
+
+"What is it?" Stonor harshly demanded.
+
+"Spirits!" she gasped.
+
+Stonor turned away, flinging his arms up. "Good God! Ghosts again!" he
+cried, in exasperation.
+
+The dreadful cries were raised again. "Help! Help! He's killing me!"
+
+"I can't stand it!" cried Clare. "I must go myself!"
+
+"Stay where you are!" commanded Stonor. "It is too strange a thing to
+happen so close to our camp if it was not staged for our benefit!"
+
+Just the same, it was not easy for him to hold himself. When the cries
+were raised again a deep groan was forced from him:
+
+"If I only had another man!"
+
+"Go! Mary and I will be all right!" said Clare.
+
+"Don' go! Don' go!" wailed Mary from the ground.
+
+Stonor shouted into the darkness. "Come this way! Help is here!"
+
+The cries were redoubled.
+
+Imbrie suddenly awoke, and rolled clear of his blanket. "What's that?"
+he cried, with an admirable assumption of surprise. "A woman's voice! A
+white woman! Why don't you go to her?"
+
+It was a little too well done; Stonor felt partly reassured.
+
+Imbrie appeared to be struggling desperately in his bonds. "For God's
+sake, man!" he cried. "If you won't go, cut me loose! I can't stand it!"
+
+"I am sure now," said Stonor, in a voice of relief. "This was what he
+fixed up with Myengeen this morning. I ought to have been prepared for
+it. Mary, help me make up the fire. A blaze will help chase the
+horrors."
+
+"Oh, you coward!" taunted Imbrie. "If I had my hands free! This is the
+famous nerve of the police!"
+
+Stonor could afford to laugh at this. His courage was tried.
+
+The voice came with a fresh note of despair. "He's taking me away! He's
+taking me away! Oh, come! come!" Sure enough the sounds began to recede.
+
+But the spell was broken now. They were only conscious of relief at the
+prospect of an end to the grim farce.
+
+"Damn clever work here," said Stonor. "She says the very things that
+ought to pull the hardest."
+
+"Where could they have got the English words?" said Clare.
+
+"Search me! It's another mystery to add to what's facing us."
+
+Meanwhile the flames were beginning to lick the twigs that Mary placed
+with trembling hands.
+
+"If we make a big fire won't it reveal us to them?" said Clare
+nervously.
+
+"They won't shoot," said Stonor contemptuously. "Stage business is more
+their line; conjure-tricks."
+
+Imbrie, seeing that the game was up, had given over trying to taunt
+Stonor, and lay watching them with an unabashed grin. He seemed rather
+proud of his scheme, though it had failed.
+
+"Can I smoke?" he said.
+
+"Mary, fill his pipe, and stick it in his mouth," said Stonor.
+
+They heaped up a big fire, and at Stonor's initiative, sat around it
+clearly revealed in the glare. He knew his Indians. At first Clare
+trembled, thinking of the possible hostile eyes gazing at them from
+beyond the radius of light, but Stonor's coolness was infectious. He
+joked and laughed, and, toasting slices of bacon, handed them round.
+
+"We can eat all we want to-night," he said. "Tole will be along with a
+fresh supply to-morrow."
+
+Imbrie lay about fifteen paces from the fire, near enough to make
+himself unpleasant, if not to hear what was said. "Mighty brave man by
+the fire," he sneered.
+
+Stonor answered mildly. "One more remark like that, my friend, and I'll
+have to retire you again from good society."
+
+Imbrie held his tongue thereafter.
+
+Clare, wishing to show Stonor that she too could set an example of
+coolness, said: "Let's sing something."
+
+But Stonor shook his head. "That would look as if we were trying to keep
+our courage up," he said, smiling, "and of course it is up. But let Mary
+tell us a story to pass the time."
+
+Mary, having reflected that it was her own people and not ghostly
+visitants that had made the hideous interruption in the night, had
+regained her outward stolidity. She was not in the humour for telling
+stories, though.
+
+"My mout' too dry," she said.
+
+"Go ahead," coaxed Stonor. "You know your own folks better than I do.
+You know that if we sit here by the fire, eating, talking, and laughing
+like a pleasant company, it will put respect into their hearts. They'll
+have no appetite for further devilry."
+
+"Can't tell stories," she said. "Too late, too dark, too scare. Words
+won't come."
+
+"Just tell us why the rabbits have a black spot on their backs. That's a
+short one."
+
+After a little more urging Mary began in her stolid way:
+
+"One tam Old Man him travel in the bush. Hear ver' queer singin'. Never
+hear not'ing like that before. Look all round see where it come. Wah! he
+see cottontail rabbits singing and making medicine. They mak' fire. Got
+plenty hot ashes. They lie down in those ashes and sing, and another
+rabbit cover them up with ashes. They not stay there ver' long for cause
+those ashes moch hot.
+
+"Old Man say: 'Little brothers, that is wonderful how you lie down in
+those hot ashes without burning. Show me how to do it.'
+
+"Rabbits say: 'Come on, Old Man. We show you how. You got sing our song,
+only stay in ashes little while.' So Old Man begin to sing, and he lie
+down, and they cover him with ashes. Him not burn at all.
+
+"He say: 'That is ver' nice. You sure got ver' strong medicine. Now I
+want do it myself. You lie down, and I cover you up.'
+
+"So rabbits all lie down in ashes, and Old Man cover them up. Then he
+put the whole fire over them. Only one old rabbit get out. Old Man catch
+her and go put her back, but she say: 'Pity me, my children soon be
+born.'
+
+"Old Man say: 'All right, I let you go, so there is plenty more rabbits
+bam-bye. But I will cook these nicely and have a feast.' And he put more
+wood on the fire. When those rabbits cooked nice, he cut red willow bush
+and lay them on to cool. Grease soak into those branches; that is why
+when you hold red willow to the fire you see grease on the bark. You can
+see too, since that time, how rabbits got burnt place on their back.
+That is where the one that got away was singed.
+
+"Old Man sit down waitin' for rabbits to cool a little. His mouth is wet
+for to taste them. Coyote come along limpin' ver' bad. Say: 'Pity me,
+Old Man, you got plenty cooked rabbits, give me one.'
+
+"Old Man say: 'Go along! You too lazy catch your dinner, I not help
+you!'
+
+"Coyote say: 'My leg broke. I can't catch not'ing. I starving. Just give
+me half a rabbit.'
+
+"Old Man say: 'I don't care if you die. I work hard to cook all these
+rabbits. I will not give away. But I tell you what we do. We run a race
+to that big hill way off there. If you beat me I give you a rabbit.'
+
+"Coyote say: 'All right.' So they start run. Old Man run ver' fast.
+Coyote limp along close behind. Then coyote turn round and run back very
+fast. Him not lame at all. Tak' Old Man long tam to get back. Jus'
+before he get there coyote swallow las' rabbit, and trot away over the
+prairie with his tail up.
+
+"That is the end."
+
+Stonor laughed. "That's the kind of story I like. No cut and dried
+moral!"
+
+Mary never could be got to see anything funny in the stories she told.
+Just what her attitude was towards them the whites could not guess.
+
+"Give us another about Old Man," Stonor went on. "A longer one. Tell how
+Old Man made medicine. A crackerjack!"
+
+Clare looked at him wonderingly. If he were aware of the weirdness of
+their situation no sign betrayed it. The crackling flames mounted
+straight in the air, the smoke made a pillar reaching into the darkness.
+Fifteen paces from Stonor lay his prisoner, staring unwinkingly at him
+with eyes that glittered with hatred; and from all around them in the
+darkness perhaps scores of their enemies were watching.
+
+Mary stolidly began again:
+
+"It was long tam ago before the white man come. The people not have
+horses then. Kakisas hunt on the great prairie that touch the sky all
+around. Many buffalo had been killed. The camp was full of meat. Great
+sheets hung in the lodges and on the racks outside to smoke. Now the
+meat was all cut up and the women were working on the hides. Cure some
+for robes. Scrape hair from some for leather----"
+
+The story got no further. From across the little stream they heard a
+muffled thunder of hoofs in the grass.
+
+Stonor sprang up. "My horses!" he cried. "Stampeded, by God! The
+cowardly devils!"
+
+Imbrie laughed.
+
+Stonor snatched up his gun. "Back from the fire!" he cried to the women.
+"I'm going to shoot!"
+
+He splashed across the ford, and, climbing the bank, dropped on his
+knee in the grass. The horses swerved, and galloped off at a tangent.
+They were barely visible to eyes that had just left the fire. Stonor
+counted seven animals, and he had but six with Imbrie's. On the seventh
+there was the suggestion of a crouching figure. Stonor fired at the
+horse.
+
+The animal collapsed with a thud. Stonor ran to where he lay twitching
+in the grass. It was a strange horse to him. The rider had escaped. But
+he could not have got far. The temptation to follow was strong, but
+Stonor, remembering his prisoner and the women who depended on him,
+refused to be drawn. He returned to where Clare and Mary awaited him at
+a little distance from the fire. Meanwhile the horses galloped away out
+of hearing into the bush beyond the little meadow. Imbrie was still
+secure in his bonds. Stonor kept a close watch on him.
+
+They had not long to wait before dawn began to weave colour in the sky.
+Light revealed nothing living but themselves in the little valley, or
+around its rim. The horse Stonor had shot still lay where he had
+dropped. Stonor returned to him, taking Mary. The animal was dead, with
+a bullet behind its shoulder. It was a blue roan, an ugly brute with a
+chewed ear. It had borne a saddle, but its owner had succeeded in
+retrieving that under cover of darkness. The man's tracks were visible,
+leading off towards the side trail.
+
+"Mary, whose horse is that?" Stonor asked.
+
+She shrugged and spread out her hands. As she had been living at Fort
+Enterprise for years, and saw her own people but seldom, he had no
+choice but to believe that she did not know. They returned to Clare.
+
+Stonor said: "I shall have to leave you for awhile. There's no help for
+it. I'm expecting Tole Grampierre this morning, but I can't tell for
+sure how fast he will travel, and in the meantime the horses may be
+getting further away every minute. If you are afraid to stay, I suppose
+you can come with me--though I may have to tramp for miles."
+
+Clare kept her chin up. "I'll stay here. If you have to go far I'd only
+be a drag on you. I shan't be afraid."
+
+The harassed policeman gave her a grateful glance. "I'll leave you my
+revolver. There's no use arming Mary, because I couldn't ask her to fire
+on her own people. I do not think there is the slightest danger of your
+being attacked. If the Indians, seeing me go, come around, pay no
+attention to them. Show no fear and you are safe. If they want Imbrie
+let them take him. I'll get him later. It only means a little delay. He
+cannot escape me up here."
+
+"You must eat before you start," said Clare anxiously.
+
+"I'll take cold food. Can't wait for hot bread."
+
+As Stonor started off Imbrie cried mockingly: "So long, Redbreast!"
+Stonor doubted very much if he would find him on his return. But there
+was no help for it. One has to make the best of a bad situation.
+
+After traversing the little meadow the stampeded horses had taken to the
+trail in the direction of Fort Enterprise. Stonor took heart, hoping
+that Tole might meet them and drive them back. But, reliable as Tole
+was, of course he could not count on him to the hour; nor had he any
+assurance that the horses would stay in the trail. He kept on.
+
+The horses' tracks made clear reading. For several miles Stonor followed
+through the bush at a dog-trot. Then he came to another little open
+glade and saw that they had stopped to feed. He gained on them here. A
+short distance further he suddenly came upon his bay in the trail, the
+horse that had carried him to Swan Lake and back. As he had expected,
+she was hopelessly foundered, a pitiable sight. He regretfully put a
+bullet through her brain.
+
+Near here the remaining horses had swerved from the trail and turned
+northward, looking for water perhaps. Stonor pinned a note to a tree,
+briefly telling Tole what had happened, and bidding him hasten forward
+with all speed.
+
+Stonor followed the hoof-prints then through the trackless bush,
+painfully slow going over the stones and the fallen trunks, with many a
+pitfall concealed under the smooth moss. After an hour of this he
+finally came upon them all five standing dejectedly about in a narrow
+opening, as if ashamed of their escapade and perfectly willing to be
+caught.
+
+Mounting Miles Aroon, he drove the others before him. To avoid the risk
+of breaking their legs he had to let them make their own slow pace over
+the down timber, and it was a sore trial to his patience. He had already
+been gone two hours. When finally he struck the trail again he saw that
+his note to Tole was still where he had left it. He let it stay, on the
+chance of its bringing him on a little quicker. He put his horses to the
+trail at a smart pace. They all clattered through the bush, making
+dizzying turns around the tree-trunks.
+
+As he approached the little meadow by the Meander his heart rose slowly
+in his throat. He had been more anxious for their safety than he would
+let himself believe. As he came to the edge of the trees his eyes were
+ready to leap to the spot where he had left his charges. A shock awaited
+them. Of the three little tents there was but one remaining, and no sign
+of life around it. He furiously urged his horse to the place.
+
+Mary and Clare were gone with Imbrie. The camp site was trampled by
+scores of hoofs. The Indians had taken nothing, however, but the two
+little tents and the personal belongings of the women--an odd
+scrupulousness in the face of the greater offence. All the tracks made
+off across the meadow towards the side trail back to the Swan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+PURSUIT
+
+
+Stonor sat down on a grub-box, and, gripping his bursting head between
+his hands, tried to think. His throbbing blood urged him to gallop
+instantly in pursuit. They could not have more than two hours' start of
+him, and Miles Aroon was better than anything they had in the way of
+horse-flesh, fresh into the bargain. But a deeper instinct was telling
+him that a little slow thought in the beginning brings quicker results
+at the end.
+
+Even with only two hours' start they might make the village before he
+overtook them, and Imbrie might get away on the lake. A stern chase with
+all the hazards of travel in the wilderness might continue for days;
+Stonor was running short of grub; he must provide for their coming back;
+above all it was necessary that he get word out of what had happened;
+Clare's safety must not depend alone on the one mortal life he had to
+give her. Hard as it was to bring himself to it, he determined to get in
+touch with Tole before starting after Imbrie and the Kakisas.
+
+To that end he mounted one of his poorer horses and galloped headlong
+back through the bush. After ten miles or so, in a little open meadow he
+came upon the handsome breed boy riding along without a care in the
+world, hand on hip and "Stetson" cocked askew, singing lustily of
+_Gentille Alouette_. Never in his life had Stonor been so glad to see
+anybody. His set, white face worked painfully; for a moment he could
+not speak, but only grip the boy's shoulder. Tole was scared half out of
+his wits to see his revered idol so much affected.
+
+All the way along Stonor had been thinking what he would do. It would
+not be sufficient to send a message by Tole; he must write to John
+Gaviller and to Lambert at the Crossing; one letter would do for both;
+the phrases were all ready to his pencil. Briefly explaining the
+situation to Tole, he sat down to his note-book. Two pages held it all;
+Stonor would have been surprised had he been told that it was a model of
+conciseness.
+
+    "JOHN GAVILLER and Sergeant LAMBERT, R.N.W.M.P.
+
+    "While returning with my prisoner Ernest Imbrie, suspected of
+    murder, at a point on the Horse Track six miles from Swan
+    River, a band of Indians from Swan Lake drove off my horses,
+    and while I was away looking for them, rescued my prisoner, and
+    also carried off the two women in my party. Am returning to
+    Swan Lake now with four horses. Suppose that Imbrie reaching
+    there will take to the lake and the upper Swan, as that
+    provides his only means of getting out of the country this way.
+    Suggest that Mr. Gaviller get this through to Lambert
+    regardless of expense. Suggest that Lambert as soon as he gets
+    it might ride overland from the Crossing to the nearest point
+    on the Swan. If he takes one of his folding boats, and takes a
+    man to ride the horses back, he could come down the Swan. I
+    will be coming up, and we ought to pinch Imbrie between the two
+    of us. The situation is a serious one, as Imbrie has the whole
+    tribe of Kakisas under his thumb. He will stop at nothing now;
+    may be insane. The position of the women is a frightful one.
+
+                         "MARTIN STONOR."
+
+Stonor took Tole's pack-horse with its load of grub, and the breed tied
+his bed and rations for three days behind his saddle. Stonor gripped his
+hand.
+
+"So long, kid! Ride like hell. It's the most you can do for me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Eight hours later, Stonor, haggard with anxiety and fatigue, and driving
+his spent horses before him, rode among the tepees of the village beside
+Swan Lake. That single day had aged him ten years. His second coming was
+received with a significant lack of surprise. The Indians were
+ostentatiously engaged at their customary occupations: mending boats and
+other gear, cleaning guns, etc. Stonor doubted if such a picture of
+universal industry had ever been offered there. Dismounting, he called
+peremptorily for Myengeen.
+
+The head man came to him with a certain air of boldness, that slowly
+withered, however, under the fire that leaped up in the white man's
+weary blue eyes. Under his savage inscrutability the signs of fidgets
+became perceptible. Perhaps he had not expected the trooper to brave him
+single-handed, but had hoped for more time to obliterate tracks, and let
+matters quiet down. Many a dark breast within hearing quailed at the
+sound of the policeman's ringing voice, though his words were not
+understood. The one determined man struck more terror than a troop.
+
+"Myengeen, you and your people have defied the law! Swift and terrible
+punishment awaits you. Don't think you can escape it. You have carried
+off a white woman. Such a thing was never known. If a single hair of her
+head is harmed, God help you! Where is she?"
+
+Myengeen's reply was a pantomime of general denial.
+
+Stonor marched him back of the tepees where the Kakisas' horses were
+feeding on the flat. He silently pointed to their hanging heads and
+sweaty flanks. Many of the beasts were still too weary to feed: one or
+two were lying down done for. Stonor pointed out certain peculiarities
+in their feet, and indicated that he had been following those tracks.
+This mute testimony impressed Myengeen more than words; his eyes bolted;
+he took refuge in making believe not to understand.
+
+Stonor's inability to command them in their own tongue made him feel
+maddeningly impotent.
+
+"Where is the woman who speaks English?" he cried, pointing to his own
+tongue.
+
+Myengeen merely shrugged.
+
+Stonor then ordered all the people into their tepees, and such is the
+power of a single resolute voice that they meekly obeyed. Proceeding
+from tepee to tepee he called out likely-looking individuals to be
+questioned out of sight of the others. For a long time it was without
+result; men and women alike, having taken their cue from Myengeen,
+feigned not to understand. Such children as he tried to question were
+scared almost into insensibility. Stonor began to feel as if he were
+butting his head against a stone wall.
+
+At last from a maiden he received a hint that was sufficient. She was a
+comely girl with a limpid brown eye. Either she had a soul above the
+Kakisas or else the bright-haired trooper touched her fancy. At any
+rate, when he looked in the tepee, where she sat demurely beyond her
+male relatives, she gave him a shy glance that did not lack humanity.
+Calling her outside, he put the invariable question to her, accompanied
+with appropriate signs: where was the white woman?
+
+She merely glanced towards the mouth of the creek where the canoes lay,
+then looked up the lake. It was sufficient. Stonor gave her a grateful
+glance and let her go. He never knew her name. That the Kakisas might
+not suspect her of having betrayed them, he continued his questioning
+for awhile. Last of all he re-interrogated Myengeen. He did not care if
+suspicion fell on him.
+
+Stonor coolly picked out the best-looking canoe in the creek, and loaded
+aboard what he required of his outfit. Myengeen and his men sullenly
+looked on. The trooper, seeing that a fair breeze was blowing up the
+lake, cut two poplar poles, and with a blanket quickly rigged mast and
+sail. When he was ready to start he delivered the rest of his outfit to
+Myengeen, and left his horses in his care.
+
+"This is government property," he said sternly. "If anything is lost
+full payment will be collected."
+
+He sailed down the creek followed by the wondering exclamations of the
+Kakisas. Sailing was an unknown art to them, and in their amazement at
+the sight, like the children they were, they completely forgot the
+grimness of the situation. Stonor thought: "How can you make such a
+scatter-brained lot realize what they're doing!"
+
+Stonor had supposed that Imbrie would take to the lake. On arriving at
+the brow of the last ridge his first thought had been to search its
+expanse, but he had seen nothing. Since then various indications
+suggested that they had between four and five hours' start of him. He
+had been delayed on the trail by his pack-horses. The speed he was
+making under sail was not much better than he could have paddled, but it
+enabled him to take things easy for a while.
+
+Swan Lake is about thirty miles long. Fully ten miles of it was visible
+from the start. It is shaped roughly like three uneven links of a chain,
+and in width it varies from half a mile to perhaps five miles. It seems
+vaster than it is on account of its low shores which stretch back, flat
+and reedy, for miles. Here dwelt the great flocks of wild geese or
+"wavies" that gave both lake and river their names.
+
+As he got out into the lake the wind gradually strengthened behind him,
+and his canoe was blown hither and yon like an inflated skin on the
+water. She had no keel, she took no grip of the water, and much of the
+goodly aid of the wind was vainly measured against the strength of
+Stonor's arms as he laboured to keep her before it. When he did get the
+wind full in his top-heavy sail it blew him almost bodily under. Stonor
+welcomed the struggle. He was now making much better time than he could
+have hoped for by his paddle. He grimly carried on.
+
+In order to accommodate the two women and their necessary outfit, Stonor
+supposed that Imbrie must have taken one of the dug-outs. He did not
+believe that any of the Kakisas had accompanied the fugitive. The
+prospect of a long journey would appal them. And Stonor was pretty sure
+that Mary was not over-working herself at the paddle, so that it was not
+too much to hope that he was catching up on them at this rate. Thinking
+of their outfit, Stonor wondered how Imbrie would feed Clare; the
+ordinary fare of the Kakisas would be a cruel hardship on her. Such are
+the things one worries about in the face of much more dreadful dangers.
+
+It had been nearly six o'clock before Stonor left Myengeen's village,
+and the sun went down while he was still far from the head of the lake.
+He surveyed the flat shores somewhat anxiously. Nowhere, as far as he
+could see, was there any promising landing-place. In the end he decided
+to sail on through the night. As darkness gathered he took his bearings
+from the stars. With the going-down of the sun the wind moderated, but
+it still held fair and strong enough to give him good steerage-way.
+After an hour or two the shores began to close around him. He could not
+find the outlet of the river in the dark, so he drove into the reeds,
+and, taking down his sail, supped on cold bread and lake-water and lay
+down in his canoe.
+
+In the morning he found the river without difficulty. It was a sluggish
+stream here, winding interminably between low cut banks, edged with
+dangling grass-roots on the one side and mud-flats on the other. From
+the canoe he could see nothing above the banks. Landing to take a
+survey, Stonor beheld a vast treeless bottom, covered with rank grass,
+and stretching to low piny ridges several miles back on either hand. No
+tell-tale thread of smoke on the still air betrayed the camp of the man
+he was seeking.
+
+He resumed his way. Of his whole journey this part was the most
+difficult trial to his patience. There was just current enough to mock
+at his efforts with the paddle. He seemed scarcely to crawl. It was
+maddening after his brisk progress up the lake. Moreover, each bend was
+so much like the last that he had no sense of getting on, and the
+invariable banks hemmed in his sight. He felt like a man condemned to a
+treadmill.
+
+He had been about two hours on the river when he saw a little object
+floating towards him on the current that instantly caught his eye
+because it had the look of something fashioned. He paddled to it with a
+beating heart. It proved to be a tiny raft contrived out of several
+lengths of stout stick, tied together with strips of rag. On the little
+platform, out of reach of the water, was tied with another strip a roll
+of the white outer bark of the birch. Stonor untied it and spread it out
+on his knee with a trembling hand. It was a letter printed in crooked
+characters with a point charred in the fire.
+
+[Illustration:
+
+    WE WELL. HIM NOT HURT CLARE ENY. HIM SCAR OF CRAZEE CLARE SLEEP
+    BY ME. HIM GOIN CROST /\/\/\/\/\
+
+                         FROM MARY]
+
+A warm stream forced its way into the trooper's frozen breast, and the
+terrible strained look in his eyes relaxed. For a moment he covered his
+eyes with his arm, though there was none to see. His most dreadful and
+unacknowledged fear was for the moment relieved. Gratitude filled him.
+
+"Good old Mary!" he thought. "She went to all that trouble just on the
+chance of easing my mind. By God! if we come through this all right I'll
+do something for her!"
+
+"Him scar of crazee," puzzled him for a while, until it occurred to him
+that Mary wished to convey that Imbrie let Clare alone because he
+believed that her loss of memory was akin to insanity. This was where
+the red strain in him told. All Indians have a superstitious awe of the
+insane. The sign at the end of the letter was for mountains, of course.
+The word, no doubt, was beyond Mary's spelling. What care and
+circumspection must have gone to the writing and the launching of the
+note! It must all have been done while Imbrie slept.
+
+Stonor applied himself to his paddle again with a better heart. After
+two hours more he came to their camping-place of the night before. It
+was a spot designed by Nature for a camp, with a little beach of clean
+sand below, and a grove of willow and birch above. Stonor landed to see
+what tell-tale signs they had left behind them.
+
+He saw that they were in a dug-out: it had left its furrow in the sand
+where it was pulled up. He saw the print of Clare's little common-sense
+boot in the sand, and the sight almost unmanned him; Mary's track was
+there too, that he knew well, and Imbrie's; and to his astonishment
+there was a fourth track unknown to him. It was that of a small man or a
+large woman. Could Imbrie have persuaded one of the Kakisas to accompany
+him? This was all he saw. He judged from the signs that they had about
+five hours' start of him.
+
+From this point the character of the country began to change. The
+river-banks became higher and wooded; there were outcroppings of rock
+and small rapids. Stonor saw from the tracks alongshore that where the
+current was swift they had towed the dug-out up-stream, but he had to
+stick to his paddle. Though he put forth his best efforts all day he
+scarcely gained on them, for darkness came upon him soon after he had
+passed the place where they spelled in mid-afternoon.
+
+On the next day in mid-morning he was brought to stand by a fork in the
+river. There was nothing to tell him which branch to choose, for the
+current was easy here and the trackers had re-embarked. Both branches
+were of about equal size: one came from the south-east, one from due
+east; either might reach to the mountains if it was long enough. Stonor
+had pondered on the map of that country, but on it the Swan River was
+only indicated as yet by a dotted line. All that was known of the stream
+by report was that it rose in the Rocky Mountains somewhere to the north
+of Fort Cheever, and, flowing in a north-westerly direction, roughly
+parallel with the Spirit, finally emptied into Great Buffalo Lake.
+Stonor remembered no forks on the map.
+
+He was about to choose at random, when he was struck by a difference in
+the colour of the water of the two branches. The right-hand fork was a
+clear brown, the other greenish with a milky tinge. Now brown water, as
+everybody knows, comes from swamps or muskegs, while green water is the
+product of melting snow and ice. Stonor took the left-hand branch.
+
+Shortly afterwards he was rewarded by a sight of the spot where they had
+made their first spell of the day. Landing, he found the ashes of their
+fire still warm; they could not have been gone more than an hour. This
+was an unexpected gain; some accident of travel must have delayed them.
+Embarking, he bent to his paddle with a renewed hope. Surely by going
+without a meal himself he ought to come on them before they finished
+their second spell.
+
+But the river was only half of its former volume now, and the rapids
+were more brawling, and more tedious to ascend. However, he consoled
+himself with the thought that if they held him back they would delay the
+dug-out no less. The river was very lovely on these upper reaches; in
+his anxiety to get on he scarcely marked that at the moment, but
+afterwards he remembered its park-like shores, its forget-me-nots and
+raspberry-blossoms, and the dappled sunlight falling through the
+aspen-foliage. It was no different from the rivers of his boyhood in a
+sheltered land, with swimming-holes at the foot of the little rapids:
+only the fenced fields and the quiet cattle were lacking above the
+banks, and church-spires in the distant vistas.
+
+Within an hour Stonor himself became the victim of one of the ordinary
+hazards of river-travel. In a rapid one of his paddles broke in half;
+the current carried him broadside on a rock, and a great piece of bark
+was torn from the side of his frail craft. Landing, he surveyed the
+damage, grinding his teeth with angry disappointment. It meant the loss
+of all he had so hardly gained on the dug-out.
+
+To find a suitable piece of bark, and spruce-gum to cement it with,
+required a considerable search in the bush. It then had to be sewed on
+with needle and thread, the edges gummed, and the gum given time to dry
+partly, in the heat of the fire. The afternoon was well advanced before
+he got afloat again, and darkness compelled him to camp in the spot
+where they had made their second, that is to say, the mid-afternoon,
+spell.
+
+The next two days, his third and fourth in the river, were without
+especial incident. The river maintained its sylvan character, though the
+bordering hills or bench were gradually growing higher and bolder.
+Stonor, by putting every ounce that was in him into his paddle, slowly
+gained again on the dug-out. He knew now that Imbrie, irrespective of
+Mary, had a second paddle to help him. It gave the dug-out an advantage,
+especially in swift water, that more than neutralized its extra weight.
+
+By evening of the fourth day all signs indicated that he was drawing
+close to his quarry again. He kept on until forced to stop by complete
+darkness. On this night the sky was heavily overcast, and it was as dark
+as a winter's night. He camped where he happened to be; it was a poor
+spot, no more than a stony slope among willows. He had done all his
+necessary cooking during the day, so there was no need to wait for his
+supper.
+
+The mosquitoes were troublesome, and he put up his tent, hastily
+slinging it between two trees, and weighing down the sides and the back
+with a few stones. To his tent he afterwards ascribed the preservation
+of his life. It was the simplest form of tent, known as a "lean-to," or,
+as one might say, merely half a tent sliced along the ridge-pole, with a
+roof sloping to the ground at the back, and the entire front open to the
+fire except for a mosquito-bar.
+
+His bed was hard, but he was too weary to care. He lay down in his
+blanket, but not to achieve forgetfulness immediately; strong
+discipline was still required to calm his hot impatience. How could he
+sleep, not knowing perhaps but that one more mile might bring him to his
+goal? Indeed, Imbrie's camp might be around the next bend. But he could
+not risk his frail canoe in the shallow river after dark.
+
+Stonor was on the borderland of sleep when he was suddenly roused to
+complete wakefulness by a little sound from behind his tent. A woodsman
+soon learns to know all the normal sounds of night, and this was
+something different, an infinitely stealthy sound, as of a body dragging
+itself an inch at a time, with long waits between. It seemed to be
+slowly making its way around his tent towards the open front.
+
+Now Stonor knew that there was no animal in his country that stalks
+human prey, and he instantly thought of his two-legged enemy. Quick and
+noiselessly as a cat he slipped out of his blankets, and rolling his
+dunnage-bag in his place drew the blanket over it. In the faint light
+reflected from the embers outside it might be supposed that he still lay
+there. He then cautiously moved the stones aside, and slipped out under
+the wall of his tent on the side opposite to that whence the creeping
+sounds now came.
+
+On hands and knees he crawled softly around the back of his tent,
+determined to stalk the stalker. He felt each inch of the way in
+advance, to make sure there was nothing that would break or turn under
+his weight. He could hear no sounds from the other side now. Rounding
+the back of his tent, at the corner he lay flat and stuck his head
+around. At first he could see nothing. The tall trees on the further
+shore cut off all but the faintest gleam of light from the river. A
+little forward and to the left of his tent there was a thick clump of
+willow, making a black shadow at its foot that might have concealed
+anything. Stonor watched, breathing with open mouth to avoid betraying
+himself. Little by little he made out a shadowy form at the foot of the
+willows, a shape merely a degree blacker than its background. He could
+be sure of nothing.
+
+Then his heart seemed to miss a beat, for against the wan surface of the
+river he saw an arm raised and a gun point--presumably at the dummy he
+had left under the tent. Oddly enough his shock of horror was not
+primarily that one should seek to kill him, Stonor; he was first of all
+appalled at the outrage offered to the coat he wore.
+
+The gun spoke and flame leaped from the barrel. Stonor, gathering
+himself up, sprang forward on the assassin. At the first touch he
+recognized with a great shock of surprise that it was a woman he had to
+deal with. Her shoulders were round and soft under his hands; the grunt
+she uttered as he bore her back was feminine. He wrenched the gun from
+her hands and cast it to one side.
+
+When she caught her breath she fought like a mad cat, with every lithe
+muscle of her body and with teeth and claws too. She was strong; strong
+and quick as a steel spring. More than once she escaped him. Once she
+got half-way up the bank; but here he bore her down on her face and
+locked her arms behind her in a grip she was powerless to break.
+
+Jerking her to her feet--one is not too gentle even with a woman who has
+just tried to murder one--he forced her before him back to his tent.
+Here, holding her with one arm while she swayed and wrenched in her
+efforts to free herself, he contrived to draw his knife, and to cut off
+one of the stay-ropes of his tent. With this he bound her wrists
+together behind her back, and passed the end round a stout trunk of
+willow. The instant he stood back she flung herself forward on the rope,
+but the jerk on her arms must have nearly dislocated them. It brought a
+shriek of pain from her. She came to a standstill, sobbing for breath.
+
+Stonor collected dead twigs, and blew on the embers. In a minute or two
+he had a bright blaze, and turned, full of curiosity to see what he had
+got. He saw a breed woman of forty years or more, still, for a wonder,
+uncommonly handsome and well-formed. The pure hatred that distorted her
+features could not conceal her good looks. She had the fine straight
+features of her white forebears, and her dusky cheeks flamed with
+colour. She bore herself with a proud, savage grace.
+
+More than the woman herself, her attire excited Stonor's wonder. It was
+a white woman's get-up. Her dress, though of plain black cotton, was cut
+with a certain regard to the prevailing style. She wore corsets--strange
+phenomenon! Stonor had already discovered it before he got a look at
+her. Her hair had been done on top of her head in a white woman's
+fashion, though it was pretty well down now. Strangest of all, she wore
+gold jewellery; rings on her fingers and drops in her ears; a showy gold
+locket hanging from a chain around her neck. On the whole a surprising
+apparition to find on the banks of the unexplored river.
+
+Stonor, studying her, reflected that this was no doubt the woman he had
+seen with Imbrie at Carcajou Point two months before. The Indians had
+referred to her derisively as his "old woman." But it was strange he had
+heard nothing of her from the Kakisas. She must have been concealed in
+the very tepee from which Imbrie had issued on the occasion of Stonor's
+first visit to the village at Swan Lake. The Indians down the river had
+never mentioned her. He was sure she could not have lived with Imbrie
+down there. Where, then, had he picked her up? Where had she been while
+Imbrie was down there? How had she got into the country anyway? The more
+he thought of it the more puzzling it was. Certainly she had come from
+far; Stonor was well assured he would have heard of so striking a
+personage as this anywhere within his own bailiwick.
+
+Another thought suddenly occurred to him. This of course would be the
+woman who had tried to decoy him out of his camp with her cries for help
+in English. At least she explained that bit of the all-enveloping
+mystery.
+
+"Well, here's a pretty how-de-do!" said Stonor with grim humour. "Who
+are you?"
+
+She merely favoured him with a glance of inexpressible scorn.
+
+"I know you talk English," he said, "good English too. So there's no use
+trying to bluff me that you don't understand. What is your name, to
+begin with?"
+
+Still no answer but the curling lip.
+
+"What's the idea of shooting at a policeman? Is it worth hanging for?"
+
+She gave no sign.
+
+He saw that it only gratified her to balk his curiosity, so he turned
+away with a shrug. "If you won't talk, that's your affair."
+
+He had thrown only light stuff on the fire, and he let it burn itself
+out, having no mind to make of himself a shining mark for a bullet from
+another quarter. He lit his pipe and sat debating what to do--or rather
+struggling with his desire to set off instantly in search of Imbrie's
+camp. Knowing it must be near, it was hard to be still. Yet better sense
+told him he would be at a fatal disadvantage in the dark, particularly
+as Imbrie must now be on the alert. There was no help for it. He must
+wait for daylight.
+
+He knew that above all he required sleep to fit him for his work next
+day, and he determined to impose sleep on himself if will-power could do
+it. As he rose to return to his tent a sullen voice from the direction
+of the willow-bushes spoke up in English as good as his own:
+
+"The mosquitoes are biting me."
+
+"Ha!" said Stonor, with a grim laugh. "You've found your tongue, eh?
+Mosquitoes! That's not a patch on what you intended for me, my girl! But
+if you want to be friends, all right. First give an account of
+yourself."
+
+She relapsed into silence.
+
+"I say, tell me who you are and where you came from."
+
+She said, with exactly the manner of a wilful child: "You can't make me
+talk."
+
+"Oh, all right! But I can let the mosquitoes bite you."
+
+Nevertheless he untied her from the willows and let her crawl under his
+mosquito-bar. Here he tied ankles as well as wrists, beyond any
+possibility of escape. It was not pure philanthropy on his part, for he
+reflected that when she failed to return, Imbrie might come in search of
+her, and take a shot inside his tent just on a chance. For himself he
+took his blanket under the darkest shadow of the willows and covered
+himself entirely with it excepting a hole to breathe through.
+
+He did succeed in sleeping, and when he awoke the sky was clear and the
+stars paling. Before crawling out of his hiding-place he took a careful
+survey from between the branches. Nothing stirred outside. Under his
+tent his prisoner was sleeping as calmly as a child. Apparently a
+frustrated murder more or less was nothing to disturb her peace of mind.
+Stonor thought grimly--for perhaps the hundredth time in dealing with
+the red race: "What a rum lot they are!" He ate some bread that he had
+left, and began to pack up.
+
+The woman awoke as he took down the tent over her head, and watched his
+preparations in a sullen silence.
+
+"Haven't you got a tongue this morning?" asked Stonor.
+
+She merely glowered at him.
+
+However, by and by, when she saw everything being packed in the canoe,
+she suddenly found her tongue. "Aren't you going to feed me?" she
+demanded.
+
+"No time now," he answered teasingly.
+
+Her face turned dark with rage. "You hangman!" she muttered savagely.
+"You've got a hangman's face all right! Anybody would know what you are
+without your livery!"
+
+Stonor laughed. "Dear! Dear! We are in a pleasant humour this morning!
+You believe in the golden rule, don't you?--for others!"
+
+When he was ready to start he regarded her grimly. He saw no recourse
+but to take her with him, thus quadrupling his difficulties. He did
+consider leaving her behind on the chance of returning later, but he
+could not tell what hazards the day might have for him. He might be
+prevented from returning, and murderess though she were, she was human,
+and he could not bring himself to leave her helpless in the bush. She
+stolidly watched the struggle going on in him.
+
+He gave in to his humanitarian instincts with a sigh. As a final
+precaution he gagged her securely with a handkerchief. He wished to take
+no chances of her raising an alarm as they approached Imbrie's camp. He
+then picked her up and laid her in the canoe. She rolled the light craft
+from side to side.
+
+"If you overturn us you'll drown like a stone," said Stonor, grinning.
+"That would help solve my difficulties."
+
+After that she lay still, her eyes blazing.
+
+Stonor proceeded. This part of the river was narrow and fairly deep,
+and the current ran steadily and slow. Through breaks in the ranks of
+the trees he caught sight from time to time of the bench on either hand,
+which now rose in high bold hills. From this he guessed that he had got
+back to the true prairie country again. As is always the case in that
+country, the slope to the north of the river was grassy, while the
+southerly slope was heavily wooded to the top.
+
+He peered around each bend with a fast-beating heart, but Imbrie's camp
+proved to be not so near as he had expected. He put a mile behind him,
+and another mile, and there was still no sign of it. Evidently the woman
+had not made her way through the bush, as he had supposed, but had been
+dropped off to wait for him. After giving him his quietus she had no
+doubt intended to take his canoe and join her party. Well, it was
+another lovely morning, and Stonor was thankful her plan had miscarried.
+
+The river took a twist to the southward. The sun rose and shot his beams
+horizontally through the tree-trunks, lighting up the underbrush with a
+strange golden splendour. It was lovely and slightly unreal, like
+stage-lighting. The surface of the river itself seemed to be dusted with
+light. Far overhead against the blue, so tender and so far away at this
+latitude, eagles circled and joyously screamed, each one as if he had an
+intermittent alarm in his throat.
+
+In the bow the woman lay glaring at him venomously. Stonor could not
+help but think: "What a gorgeous old world to be fouled with murder and
+hatred!"
+
+At last, as he crept around an overhanging clump of willows, he saw what
+he was in search of, and his heart gave a great leap. Arresting his
+paddle, he clung to the branches and peered through, debating what to
+do. They were still far off and he had not been perceived. With
+straining eyes he watched the three tiny figures that meant so much to
+him. Unfortunately there was no chance of taking Imbrie by surprise, for
+he had had the wit to choose a camping-place that commanded a view
+down-stream for half a mile. Stonor considered landing, and attempting
+to take them from the rear, but even as he looked he saw Imbrie loading
+the dug-out. They would be gone long before he could make his way round
+through the bush. There was nothing to do but make a dash for it.
+
+They saw him as soon as he rounded the bend. There was a strange
+dramatic quality in the little beings running this way and that on the
+beach. Stonor, straining every nerve to reach them, was nevertheless
+obliged to be the witness of a drama in which he was powerless to
+intervene. He saw Imbrie throw what remained of his baggage into the
+dug-out. He saw the two petticoated figures start running up the beach
+towards him, Stonor. Imbrie started after them. The larger of the two
+figures dropped back and grappled with the man, evidently to give the
+other a chance to escape. But Imbrie succeeded in flinging her off, and,
+after a short chase, seized the other woman. Stonor could make out the
+little green Norfolk suit now.
+
+Mary snatched up a billet of wood, and as the man came staggering back
+with his burden, she attacked him. He backed towards the dug-out,
+holding Clare's body in front of him as a shield. But under Mary's
+attacks he was finally compelled to drop Clare. She must have fainted,
+for she lay without moving. Imbrie closed with Mary, and there was a
+brief violent struggle. He succeeded in flinging her off again. He
+reached the dug-out. Mary attacked him again. Snatching up his gun, he
+fired at her point-blank. She crumpled up on the stones.
+
+Imbrie picked up Clare and flung her in the dug-out. He pushed off. All
+this had been enacted in not much more time than it takes to read of
+it. Stonor was now within a furlong, but still helpless, for he dared
+not fire at Imbrie for fear of hitting Clare. The dug-out escaped out of
+sight round a bend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+UPS AND DOWNS
+
+
+Stonor, raging in his helplessness, was nevertheless obliged to stop. He
+found Mary conscious, biting her lips until they bled to keep from
+groaning. Her face was ashy. Yet she insisted on sitting up to prove to
+him that she was not badly hurt.
+
+"Go on! Go on!" she was muttering as he reached her. "I all right. Don'
+stop! Go after him!"
+
+"Where are you hurt?" Stonor demanded.
+
+"Just my leg. No bone broke. It is not'ing. Go after him!"
+
+"I can't leave you like this!"
+
+"Give me your little medicine-bag. I dress it all right myself. Go
+quick!"
+
+"Be quiet! Let me think!" cried the distracted trooper. "I can't leave
+you here helpless. I can't tell when I'll be back. You must have food, a
+blanket, gun and ammunition."
+
+As he spoke, he set about getting out what she needed; first of all the
+little medicine chest that he never travelled without. He laid aside the
+breed woman's gun and shells for her, and one of his two blankets. The
+delay was maddening. With every second he pictured Imbrie drawing
+further and further away, Clare without a protector now. Though the
+dug-out was heavier than the bark-canoe, he would be handicapped by the
+devilish breed woman, who would be sure to hinder him by every means
+within her power. Yet he still closed his ears to Mary's urgings to be
+off. He built up Imbrie's fire and put on water to heat for her. He
+carried her near the fire, where she could help herself.
+
+As he worked a new plan came to him, a way out of part of his
+difficulties. "Mary," he said suddenly, "I'm going to leave the canoe
+with you, too, and this woman to take care of for me. I'll take to the
+bench. I can cut him off above."
+
+"No! No!" she groaned. "Leave the woman and take the canoe. You can come
+back when you get her."
+
+But his mind was made up. A new hope lightened his despair. "No! He
+might get me. Then you'd starve to death. I don't mean to let him get
+me, but I can't take the chance. I'll travel faster light. Even if I
+don't get him to-day, he shan't shake me off. The river is bound to get
+more difficult as he goes up. And it's prairie-land above."
+
+He hastened to get together his pack: gun and ammunition, knife,
+hatchet, matches, and a little cooking-pot; a small store of flour,
+salt, baking-powder and smoked meat.
+
+"Mary, as soon as you feel able to travel, you are to start down-stream
+in the canoe with the woman. It is up to you to take her out, and
+deliver her to the authorities. The charge is attempted murder. You are
+to tell John Gaviller everything that has happened, and let him act
+accordingly."
+
+All this was said in low tones to keep it from reaching the breed
+woman's ears. Stonor now dropped to his knees and put his lips to Mary's
+ear. "Tell Gaviller we know for sure that Imbrie is trying to escape
+over the mountains by way of the head-waters of the Swan, and to make
+sure that he is intercepted there if he slips through our fingers
+below."
+
+"I onerstan'," said Mary.
+
+He gave her a pull from his flask, and she was able to sit up and attend
+to the dressing of her own wound.
+
+In ten minutes Stonor was ready to start. He put on a cheery air for
+Mary's benefit. Truly the Indian woman had a task before her that might
+have appalled the stoutest-hearted man.
+
+"Good-bye, Mary!" he said, gripping her hand. "You're a good pardner. I
+shan't forget it. Keep up a good heart. Remember you're a policeman now.
+Going down you're only about three days' journey from Myengeen's
+village. And you'll have company--though I can't recommend it much. Keep
+the gun in your own hands."
+
+Mary shrugged, with her customary stoicism. "I make her work for me."
+She added simply: "Good-bye, Stonor. Bring her back safe."
+
+"I won't come without her," he said, and with a wave of his hand struck
+into the bush.
+
+He laid a course at right angles to the river. The floor of this part of
+the valley was covered with a forest which had never known axe nor fire,
+and the going was difficult and slow over the down timber, some
+freshly-fallen, making well-nigh impassable barricades erected on the
+stumps of its broken branches, some which crumbled to powder at a touch.
+There was no undergrowth except a few lean shrubs that stretched great,
+pale leaves to catch the attenuated rays that filtered down. It was as
+cool and still as a room with a lofty ceiling. High overhead the leaves
+sparkled in the sun.
+
+It was about half a mile to the foot of the bench, that is to say, to
+the side of the gigantic trough that carried the river through the
+prairie country, though it required an amount of exertion that would
+have carried one over ten times that distance of road. As soon as Stonor
+began to climb he left the forest behind him; first it diminished into
+scattered trees and scrub and then ceased altogether in clean, short
+grass, already curing under the summer sun. Presently Stonor was able
+to look clear over the tops of the trees; it was like rising from a
+mine.
+
+The slope was not regular, but pushed up everywhere in fantastic knolls
+and terraces. He directed his course as he climbed for a bold projecting
+point from which he hoped to obtain a prospect up the valley. Reaching
+it at last, he gave himself a breathing-space. He saw, as he hoped, that
+the valley, which here ran due north and south, returned to its normal
+course from the westward a few miles above. Thus, by making a bee-line
+across the prairie, he could cut off a great bend in the watercourse,
+not to speak of the lesser windings of the river in its valley. He
+prayed that Imbrie might have many a rapid to buck that day.
+
+On top of the bench the prairie rolled to the horizon with nothing to
+break the expanse of grass but patches of scrub. Stonor's heart,
+burdened as it was, lifted up at the sight. "After all, there's nothing
+like the old bald-headed to satisfy a man's soul," he thought. "If I
+only had Miles Aroon under me now!" Taking his bearings, he set off
+through the grass at the rolling walk he had learned from the Indians.
+
+Of that long day there is little to report. The endless slopes of grass
+presented no distinguishing features; he was alone with the west wind's
+noble clouds. He came up on the wind on a brown bear with cream-coloured
+snout staying his stomach with the bark of poplar shoots until the
+berries should be ripe, and sent him doubling himself up with a shout.
+Time was too precious to allow of more than one spell. This he took
+beside a stream of clear water at the bottom of a vast coulee that lay
+athwart his path. While his biscuits were baking he bagged a couple of
+prairie-chickens. One he ate, and one he carried along with him, "for
+Clare's supper."
+
+At about four o'clock in the afternoon, that is to say, the time of the
+second spell, he struck the edge of the bench again, and once more the
+valley was spread below him. He searched it eagerly. The forest covered
+it like a dark mat, and the surface of the river was only visible in
+spots here and there. He found what he was looking for, and his heart
+raised a little song; a thin thread of smoke rising above the trees
+alongside the river, and at least a couple of miles in his rear.
+
+"I'll get him now!" he told himself.
+
+He debated whether to hasten directly to the river, or continue further
+over the prairie. He decided that the margin of safety was not yet quite
+wide enough, and took another line along the bench.
+
+Three hours later he came out on the river's edge with a heart beating
+high with hope. The placid empty reach that opened to his view told him
+nothing, of course, but he was pretty sure that Imbrie was safely below
+him. His principal fear was that he had come too far; that Imbrie might
+not make it before dark. The prospect of leaving Clare unprotected in
+his hands through the night was one to make Stonor shudder. He decided
+that if Imbrie did not come up by dark, he would make his way down
+alongshore until he came on their camp.
+
+Meanwhile he sought down-stream for a better point of vantage. He came
+to a rapid. The absence of tracks on either side proved positively that
+Imbrie had not got so far as this. Stonor decided to wait here. The man
+would have to get out to track his dug-out up the swift water, and
+Stonor would have him where he wanted him. Or if it was late when he got
+here, he would no doubt camp.
+
+Stonor saw that the natural tracking-path was across the stream; on the
+other side also was the best camping-spot, a shelving ledge of rock with
+a low earth bank above. In order to be ready for them, therefore, he
+stripped and swam across below the rapid, towing his clothes and his
+pack on an improvised raft, that he broke up immediately on landing.
+Dressing, he took up his station behind a clump of berry-bushes that
+skirted the bank. Here he lay at full length with his gun in his hands.
+He made a little gap in the bushes through which he could command the
+river for a furlong or so.
+
+He lay there with his eyes fixed on the point around which the dug-out
+must appear. The sun was sinking low; they must soon come or they would
+not come. On this day he was sure Imbrie would work to the limit. He
+smiled grimly to think how the man would be paddling with his head over
+his shoulder, never guessing how danger lay ahead. Oh, but it was hard
+to wait, though! His muscles twitched, the blood hammered in his
+temples.
+
+By and by, from too intense a concentration on a single point, the whole
+scene became slightly unreal. Stonor found himself thinking: "This is
+all a dream. Presently I will wake up."
+
+In the end, when the dug-out did come snaking around the bend, he rubbed
+his eyes to make sure they did not deceive him. Though he had been
+waiting for it all that time, it had the effect of a stunning surprise.
+His heart set up a tremendous beating, and his breath failed him a
+little. Then suddenly, as they came closer, a great calm descended on
+him. He realized that this was the moment he had planned for, and that
+his calculations were now proved correct. For the last time he threw
+over the mechanism of his gun and reloaded it.
+
+Imbrie was paddling in the stern, of course. The man looked pretty
+nearly spent, and there was little of his cynical impudence to be seen
+now. Clare lay on her stomach on the baggage amidships, staring ahead
+with her chin propped in her palms, a characteristic boy's attitude that
+touched Stonor's heart. Her face was as white as paper, and bore a look
+of desperate composure. Stonor had never seen that look; seeing it now
+he shuddered, thinking, what if he had not found them before nightfall!
+
+Imbrie grounded the canoe on the shelf of rock immediately below Stonor,
+and no more than five paces from the muzzle of his gun. Clare climbed
+out over the baggage without waiting to be spoken to, and walked away
+up-stream a few steps, keeping her back turned to the man. Her head was
+sunk between her shoulders; she stared out over the rapids, seeing
+nothing. At the sight of the little figure's piteous dejection rage
+surged up in Stonor; he saw red.
+
+Imbrie got out and went to pick his course up the rapids. He cast a
+sidelong look at Clare's back as he passed her. The man was too weary to
+have much devilry in him at the moment. But in his dark eyes there was a
+promise of devilry.
+
+Having laid out his course he returned to the bow of the dug-out for his
+tracking-line. This was the moment Stonor had been waiting for. He rose
+up and stepped forward through the low bushes. Clare saw him first. A
+little gasping cry broke from her. Imbrie spun round, and found himself
+looking into the barrel of the policeman's Enfield. No sound escaped
+from Imbrie. His lips turned back over his teeth like an animal's.
+
+Stonor said, in a voice of deceitful softness: "Take your knife and cut
+off a length of that line, say about ten feet."
+
+No one could have guessed from his look nor his tone that an insane rage
+possessed him; that he was fighting the impulse to reverse his gun and
+club the man's brains out there on the rock.
+
+Imbrie did not instantly move to obey.
+
+"Look sharp!" rasped Stonor. "It wouldn't come hard for me to put a
+bullet through you!"
+
+Imbrie thought better of it, and cut off the rope as ordered.
+
+"Now throw the knife on the ground."
+
+Imbrie obeyed, and stepped towards Stonor, holding the rope out. There
+was an evil glint in his eye.
+
+Stonor stepped back. "No, you don't! Keep within shooting distance, or
+this gun will go off!"
+
+Imbrie stopped.
+
+"Miss Starling," said Stonor. "Come and tie this man's wrists together
+behind his back, while I keep him covered."
+
+She approached, still staring half witlessly as if she saw an
+apparition. She was shaking like an aspen-leaf.
+
+"Pull yourself together!" commanded Stonor with stern kindness. "I am
+not a ghost. I am depending on you!"
+
+Her back straightened. She took the rope from Imbrie's hands, and passed
+a turn around his extended wrists. Stonor kept his gun at the man's
+head.
+
+"At this range it would make a clean hole," he said, grinning.
+
+To Clare he said: "Tie it as tight as you can. I'll finish the job."
+
+When she had done her best, he handed his gun over and doubled the
+knots. Forcing Imbrie to a sitting position, he likewise tied his
+ankles.
+
+"That will hold him, I think," he said, rising.
+
+The words seemed to break the spell that held Clare. She sank down on
+the stones and burst into tears, shaking from head to foot with
+uncontrollable soft sobs. The sight unnerved Stonor.
+
+"Oh, don't!" he cried like a man daft, clenching his impotent hands.
+
+Imbrie smiled. Watching Stonor, he said with unnatural perspicacity:
+"You'd like to pick her up, wouldn't you?"
+
+Stonor spun on his heel toward the man. "Hold your tongue!" he roared.
+"By God! another word and I'll brain you! You damned scoundrel! You
+scum!"
+
+If Imbrie had wished to provoke the other man to an outburst, he got a
+little more than enough. He cringed from the other's blazing eyes, and
+said no more.
+
+Stonor bent over Clare. "Don't, don't grieve so!" he murmured.
+"Everything is all right now."
+
+"I know," she whispered. "It's just--just relief. I'm just silly now.
+To-day was too much--too much to bear!"
+
+"I know," he said. "Come away with me."
+
+He helped her to her feet and they walked away along the beach. Imbrie's
+eyes as they followed were not pleasant to see.
+
+"Martin, I must touch you--to prove that you're real," she said
+appealingly. "Is it wrong?"
+
+"Take my arm," he said. He drew her close to his side.
+
+"Martin, that man cannot ever have been my husband. It is not possible I
+could ever have given myself to such a one!"
+
+"I don't believe he is."
+
+"Martin, I meant to throw myself in the river to-night if you had not
+come."
+
+"Ah, don't! I can't bear it! I saw."
+
+"My flesh crawls at him! To be alone with such a monster--so terribly
+alone--I can't tell you----!"
+
+"Don't distress yourself so!"
+
+"I'm not--now. I'm relieving myself. I've got to talk, or my head will
+burst. The thing that keeps things in broke just now. I've got to talk.
+I suppose I'm putting it all off on you now."
+
+"I guess I can stand it," he said grimly.
+
+She asked very low: "Do you love me, Martin?"
+
+"You know I do."
+
+"Yes, I know, but I had to make you say it, because I've got to tell
+you. I love you. I adore you. If loving you in my mind is wicked, I
+shall have to be a wicked woman. Oh, I'll keep the law. From what I
+told you in the beginning, I must have already done some man a wrong. I
+shall not wrong another. But I had to tell you. You knew already, so it
+can do no great harm."
+
+He glanced back at Imbrie. "If the law should insist on keeping up such
+a horrible thing it would have to be defied," he said--"even if I am a
+policeman!"
+
+"I tell you he is not the man."
+
+"I hope you're right."
+
+"But if I am not free, I should not let you ruin yourself on my
+account."
+
+"Ruin? That's only a word. A man's all right as long as he can work."
+
+"Oh, Martin, it seems as if I brought trouble and unhappiness on all
+whom I approach!"
+
+"That's nonsense!" he said quickly. "You've made me! However this thing
+turns out. You've brought beauty into my life. You've taken me out of
+myself. You've given me an ideal to live up to!"
+
+"Ah, how sweet for you to say it!" she murmured. "It makes me feel real.
+I am only a poor wandering ghost of a woman, and you're so solid and
+convincing!
+
+"There! I'm all right now!" she said, with an abrupt return to the
+boyish, prosaic air that he found utterly adorable. "I have exploded.
+I'm hungry. Let's go back and make supper. It's your turn to talk. Tell
+me how you got here in advance of us, you wonderful man! And Mary----!"
+She stopped short and her eyes filled. "How selfish of me to forget her
+even for a moment!"
+
+"She was not badly wounded," he said. "We'll probably overtake her
+to-morrow."
+
+"And you? I thought I saw a ghost when you rose up from the bushes."
+
+"No magic in that," said Stonor. "I just walked round by the hills."
+
+"Just walked round by the hills," she echoed, mocking his offhand
+manner, and burst out laughing. "That was nothing at all!" Her eyes
+added something more that she dared not put into words: "You were made
+for a woman to love to distraction!"
+
+When they returned to the dug-out, Imbrie studied their faces through
+narrowed lids, trying to read there what had passed between them. Their
+serenity discomposed him. Hateful taunts trembled on his lips, but he
+dared not utter them.
+
+As for Clare and Stonor, neither of them sentimental persons, their
+breasts were eased. Each now felt that he could depend on the other in
+the best sense until death: meanwhile passion could wait. They made a
+fire together and cooked their supper with as unconscious an air as if
+they had just come out from home a mile or two to picnic. They ignored
+Imbrie, particularly Clare, who, with that wonderful faculty that women
+possess, simply obliterated him by her unconsciousness of his presence.
+The prisoner could not understand their air towards each other. He
+watched them with a puzzled scowl. Clare was like a child over the
+prairie-chicken. An amiable dispute arose over the division of it, which
+Stonor won and forced her to eat every mouthful.
+
+She washed the dishes while he cleared a space among the bushes on top
+of the bank, and pitched her little tent. The camp-bed was still in
+Imbrie's outfit, and Stonor set it up with tender hands, thinking of the
+burden it would bear throughout the night. Also in Imbrie's outfit he
+found his own service revolver, which he returned to Clare for her
+protection.
+
+Afterwards they made a little private fire for themselves a hundred feet
+or so from Imbrie, and sedately sat themselves down beside it to talk.
+
+Stonor said: "If you feel like it, tell me what happened after I went to
+hunt my horses that morning."
+
+"I feel like it," she said, with a smile. "It is such a comfort to be
+able to talk again. Mary and I scarcely dared whisper. You had been gone
+about half an hour that morning when all the Indians rode down out of
+the woods, and crossed the ford to our side. There were about thirty of
+them, I should say. I did just what you told me, that is, went on with
+my packing as if they were not there. For a little while they stood
+around staring like sulky children. Finally one of them said to me
+through Mary with a sort of truculent air, like a child experimenting to
+see how far he can go, that they were going to take Imbrie back. I told
+Mary to tell him that that was up to him; that he would have to deal
+with you later, if they did. Meanwhile I noticed they were edging
+between me and Imbrie, and presently Imbrie stood up, unbound. He took
+command of the band. It seemed he had known they were coming. I was only
+anxious to see them all ride off and leave us.
+
+"Soon I saw there was worse coming. At first I knew only by Mary's
+scared face. She argued with them. She would not tell me what it was all
+about. Gradually I understood that Imbrie was telling them I was his
+wife, and they must take me, too. I almost collapsed. Mary did the best
+she could for me. I don't know all that she said. It did no good. The
+principal Indian asked me if I was Imbrie's wife, and I could only
+answer that I did not know, that I had lost my memory. I suppose this
+seemed like a mere evasion to them. When Mary saw that they were
+determined, she said they must take her, too. She thought this was what
+you would want. They refused, but she threatened to identify every man
+of them to the police, so they had to take her.
+
+"One man's horse had been killed, and they sent him and three others off
+to the Horse Track village on foot to get horses to ride home on. That
+provided horses for Imbrie, Mary, and me. They made them go at top speed
+all day. I expect it nearly killed the horses. I was like a dead woman;
+I neither felt weariness nor anything else much. If it had not been for
+Mary I could not have survived it.
+
+"We arrived at their village near Swan Lake early in the afternoon.
+Imbrie stopped there only long enough to collect food. We never had
+anything to eat but tough smoked meat of some kind, dry biscuits, and
+bitter tea, horrible stuff! It didn't make much difference, though.
+
+"Imbrie told the Indians what to say when the police came. He couldn't
+speak their language very well, so he had to use Mary to translate, and
+Mary told me. Mary was trying to get on Imbrie's good side now. She said
+it wouldn't do any harm, and might make things easier for us. If we
+lulled his suspicions we might get a chance to escape later, she said.
+She wanted me to make up to Imbrie, too, but I couldn't.
+
+"Imbrie told the Indians to go about their usual work as if nothing had
+happened, and simply deny everything if they were questioned. Nothing
+could be proved he said, for he and Mary and I would never be found nor
+heard of again. He was going to take us back to his country, he said. By
+that they understood, I think, that we were going to disappear off the
+earth. They seemed to have the most absolute faith in him. They thought
+you wouldn't dare follow until you had secured help from the post, which
+would take many days."
+
+"What about the breed woman?" interrupted Stonor.
+
+"She was waiting there at the Swan Lake village. She came with us as a
+matter of course, and helped paddle the dug-out. Mary paddled, too, but
+she didn't work as hard as she made believe. We got in the river before
+dark, but Imbrie made them paddle until late. I dreaded the first camp,
+but Imbrie let me alone. Mary said he was afraid of me because he
+thought I was crazy. After that, you may be sure, I played up to that
+idea. It worked for a day or two, but I saw from his eyes that he was
+gradually becoming suspicious.
+
+"At night Imbrie and the breed woman took turns watching. Whenever we
+got a chance Mary and I talked about you, and what you would do. We knew
+of course that the man was coming out from Fort Enterprise, and I was
+sure that you would send him back for aid, and come right after us
+yourself. So Mary wrote you the note on a piece of bark, and set it
+adrift in the current. It was wonderful how she deceived them right
+before their eyes. But they gave us a good deal of freedom. They knew we
+could do nothing unless we could get weapons, or steal the canoes. She
+went down the shore a little way to launch her message to you.
+
+"Well, that's about all I can remember. The days on the river were like
+a nightmare. All we did was to watch for you, and listen at night. Then
+came yesterday. By that time Imbrie was beginning to feel secure, and
+was taking it easier. We were sitting on the shore after the second
+spell when the breed woman came running in in a panic. We understood
+from her gestures that she had seen you turning into the next reach of
+the river below. Mary's heart and mine jumped for joy. Imbrie hustled us
+into the dug-out, and paddled like mad until he had put a couple of
+bends between us and the spot.
+
+"Later, he put the breed woman ashore. She had her gun. We were
+terrified for you, but could do nothing. Imbrie carried us a long way
+further before he camped. That was a dreadful night. We had no way of
+knowing what was happening. Then came this morning. You saw what
+happened then."
+
+Stonor asked: "What did you make of that breed woman?"
+
+"Nothing much, Martin. I felt just as I had with Imbrie, that I must
+have known her at some time. She treated me well enough; that is to
+say, she made no secret of the fact that she despised me, but was
+constrained to look after me as something that Imbrie valued."
+
+"Jealous?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What is the connection between her and Imbrie?"
+
+"I don't know. They just seemed to take each other for granted."
+
+"How did Imbrie address her?"
+
+"I don't know. They spoke to each other in some Indian tongue. Mary said
+it sounded a little like the Beaver language, but she could not
+understand it."
+
+"Where do you suppose this woman kept herself while Imbrie was living
+beside the falls?"
+
+Clare shook her head.
+
+"If we knew that it would explain much!"
+
+"Well, that's all of my story," said Clare. "Now tell me every little
+thing you've done and thought since you left us."
+
+"That's a large order," said Stonor, smiling.
+
+When he had finished his tale he took her to the door of her tent.
+
+"Where are you going to sleep?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Down by the fire."
+
+"Near--him?"
+
+"That won't keep me awake."
+
+"But if he should work loose and attack you?"
+
+"I'll take precious good care of that."
+
+"It's so far away!" she said plaintively.
+
+"Twenty-five feet!" he said smiling.
+
+"Couldn't you--sleep close outside my tent where I could hear you
+breathing if I woke?"
+
+He smiled, and gave her his eyes deep and clear. There comes a moment
+between every two who deeply love when shame naturally drops away, and
+to assume shame after that is the rankest hypocrisy. "I couldn't," he
+said simply.
+
+She felt no shame either. "Very well," she said. "You know best.
+Good-night, Martin."
+
+Stonor went back to the fire. He was too much excited to think of
+sleeping immediately, but it was a happy excitement; he could even
+afford at the moment not to hate Imbrie. The prisoner watched his every
+movement through eyes that he tried to make sleepy-looking, but the
+sparkle of hatred betrayed him.
+
+"You seem well pleased with yourself," he sneered.
+
+"Why shouldn't I be?" said Stonor good-naturedly. "Haven't I made a good
+haul to-day?"
+
+"How did you do it?"
+
+"I just borrowed a little of your magic for the occasion and flew
+through the air."
+
+"Well, you're not out of the woods yet," said Imbrie sourly.
+
+"No?"
+
+"And if you do succeed in taking me in, you'll have some great
+explaining to do."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"To satisfy your officers why you hounded a man simply because you were
+after his wife."
+
+Stonor grinned. "Now that view of the matter never occurred to me!"
+
+"It will to others."
+
+"Well, we'll see."
+
+"What's become of the two women?" asked Imbrie.
+
+"They're on their way down-stream."
+
+"What happened anyway, damn you?"
+
+Stonor laughed and told him.
+
+Later, after a thoughtful silence, Stonor suddenly asked: "Imbrie, how
+did you treat measles among the Kakisas last year? That would be a good
+thing for me to know."
+
+"No doubt. But I shan't tell you," was the sullen answer.
+
+"The worst thing we have to deal with up here is pneumonia; how would
+you deal with a case?"
+
+"What are you asking me such questions for?"
+
+"Well, you're supposed to be a doctor."
+
+"I'm not going to share my medical knowledge with every guy who asks. It
+was too hard to come by."
+
+"That's not the usual doctor's attitude."
+
+"A hell of a lot I care!"
+
+Stonor took out his note-book, and wrote across one of the pages: "The
+body was not carried over the falls." He then poked the fire into a
+bright blaze, and showed the page to Imbrie.
+
+"What have I written?" he asked, watching the man narrowly.
+
+Imbrie glanced at it indifferently, and away again. There was not the
+slightest change in his expression. Stonor was convinced he had not
+understood it.
+
+"I won't tell you," muttered Imbrie.
+
+"Just as you like. If I untie your hands, will you write a line from my
+dictation?"
+
+"No. What foolishness is this?"
+
+"Only that I suspect you can neither read nor write. This is your
+opportunity to prove that you can."
+
+"Oh, go to hell!"
+
+"I'm satisfied," said Stonor, putting away the book.
+
+Travelling down the river next morning was child's play by comparison
+with the labour of the ascent. The current carried them with light
+hearts. That is to say, two of the hearts on board were light. Imbrie,
+crouched in the bow with his inscrutable gaze, was hatching new schemes
+of villainy perhaps. Clare sat as far as possible from him, and with her
+back turned. All day she maintained the fiction that she and Stonor were
+alone in the dug-out. In the reaction from the terrors of the last few
+days her speech bubbled like a child's. She pitched her voice low to
+keep it from carrying forward. All her thoughts looked to the future.
+
+"Three or four days to the village at Swan Lake, you say. We won't have
+to wait there, will we?"
+
+"My horses are waiting."
+
+"Then four days more to Fort Enterprise. You said there was a white
+woman there. How I long to see one of my own kind! She'll be my
+first--in this incarnation. Then we'll go right out on the steamboat,
+won't we?"
+
+"We'll have to wait a few days for her August trip."
+
+"You'll come with me, of course."
+
+"Yes, I'll have to take my prisoners out to headquarters at Miwasa
+landing--perhaps all the way to town if it is so ordered."
+
+"And when we get to town, what shall I do? Adrift on the world!"
+
+"Before that I am sure we will meet with anxious inquiries for you."
+
+"Yes, I have a comfortable feeling at the back of my head that I have
+people somewhere. Poor things, what a state they must be in! It will be
+part of your duty to take me home, won't it? Surely the authorities
+wouldn't let me travel alone."
+
+"Surely not!" said Stonor assuming more confidence than he felt.
+
+"Isn't it strange and thrilling to think of a civilized land where
+trolley cars clang in the streets, and electric lights shine at night;
+where people, crowds and crowds of people, do exactly the same things at
+the same hours every day of their lives except Sundays, and never dream
+of any other kind of life! Think of sauntering down-town in a pretty
+summer dress and a becoming hat, and chatting with scores of people you
+know, and looking at things in the stores and buying useless
+trifles--where have I done all that, I wonder? Think of pulling up one's
+chair to a snowy tablecloth--and, oh, Martin! the taste of good food!
+Funny, isn't it, when I have forgotten so much, that I should remember
+_things_ so well!"
+
+Clare insisted that Stonor had overtired himself the last few days, and
+made him loaf at the paddle with many a pause to fill and light his
+pipe. Even so their progress was faster than in the other direction.
+Shortly after midday she told him that they were nearing the spot where
+Mary had been shot the day before. They looked eagerly for the place.
+
+To their great disappointment Mary had gone. However, Stonor pointed out
+that it was a good sign she had been able to travel so soon.
+
+They camped for the night at a spot where Mary had spelled the day
+before. Stonor observed from the tracks that it was the breed woman who
+had moved around the fire cooking. Mary apparently had been unable to
+leave the canoe. It made him anxious. He did not speak of it to Clare.
+He saw Imbrie examining the tracks also.
+
+This camping-place was a bed of clean, dry sand deposited on the inside
+of one of the river-bends, and exposed by the falling water. Stonor
+chose it because it promised a soft bed, and his bones were weary. The
+bank above was about ten feet high and covered with a dense undergrowth
+of bushes, which they did not try to penetrate, since a dead tree
+stranded on the beach provided an ample store of fuel. Clare's tent was
+pitched at one end of the little beach, while Imbrie, securely bound,
+and Stonor slept one on each side of the fire a few paces distant.
+
+In the morning Stonor was the first astir. A delicate grey haze hung
+over the river, out of which the tops of the willow-bushes rose like
+islands. He chopped and split a length of the stranded trunk, and made
+up the fire. Imbrie awoke, and lay watching him with a lazy sneer.
+Stonor had no warning of the catastrophe. He was stooping over sorting
+out the contents of Imbrie's grub-bag, his back to the bushes, when
+there came a crashing sound that seemed within him--yet outside. That
+was all he knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE LAST STAGE ON SWAN RIVER.
+
+
+When Stonor's sense returned the first thing of which he was conscious
+was Clare's soft hand on his head. He opened his eyes and saw her face
+bending over him, the nurse's face, serious, compassionate and
+self-forgetful. No one knows what reserves may be contained in a woman
+until another's wound draws on them. He found himself lying where he had
+fallen; but there was a bag under his neck to hold his head up. Putting
+up his hand he found that his head was tightly bandaged. There seemed to
+be a mechanical hammer inside his skull.
+
+"What happened?" he whispered.
+
+She scarcely breathed her reply. "The woman shot you. She was hidden in
+the bush."
+
+Looking beyond her, Stonor saw Imbrie and the breed woman eating by the
+fire in high good humour. He observed that the woman was wearing the
+revolver he had given Clare.
+
+"She disarmed me before I could fire," Clare went on. "Your wound is not
+serious. The bullet only ploughed the scalp above your ear."
+
+"Who bandaged me?"
+
+"I did. They didn't want to let me, but I made them. I sewed the wound
+first. I don't know how I did it, but I did."
+
+Imbrie looked over and saw them talking. "Let him alone," he said
+harshly. "Come over here and get your breakfast."
+
+"Go," said Stonor with his eyes and lips. "If he attempted to ill-treat
+you in my sight I----"
+
+She understood, and went without demur. Imbrie motioned her to a place
+beside him and put a plate before her. She went through the motions of
+eating, but her eyes never left Stonor's face. Stonor closed his eyes
+and considered their situation. Frightful enough it was in good sooth,
+yet it might have been worse. For as he lay quiet he felt his powers
+returning. Beyond a slight nausea he was himself again. He thanked God
+for a hard skull.
+
+Meanwhile the breed woman was bragging of her exploit. She spoke in
+English for the pleasure it gave her to triumph over the whites.
+
+"He gave Mary his canoe and made for the bench."
+
+"I know that," said Imbrie. "Go on."
+
+"Well, as soon as Mary had bound up her leg she wanted to start. But her
+leg got worse on the way. When it came time to spell, she had to untie
+me and let me cook, while she kept watch over me with the gun--my gun
+that Stonor gave her. It was at this place that we spelled. When we went
+on, her leg kept getting worse, and soon she said we'd have to stop for
+the night. So I made camp. Then she ordered me to come up to her and get
+my hands tied, and patted the gun as a sort of hint. I went up to her
+all right, and when she put down the gun and took up the rope, I
+snatched up the gun, and then I had her!"
+
+The woman and Imbrie roared with laughter.
+
+"Then I just took her knife and her food, and went," the woman said,
+callously.
+
+"Damned inhuman--!" Stonor cried involuntarily.
+
+"What's the matter with you!" she returned. "Do you think I was going to
+let her take me in and turn me over for shooting at a policeman? Not if
+I know it! I was charitable to her if it comes to that. I could have
+taken her canoe, too, and then she would properly have starved. But I
+left her the canoe and a piece of bread, too. Mary Moosa is fat enough.
+I guess she can live off her fat long enough to get to Myengeen's
+village."
+
+"What then?" asked Imbrie.
+
+"I just walked off up the river. She couldn't follow me with her leg.
+She couldn't track the canoe up the rapids. All she can do is to go on
+down."
+
+"How did you know where I was?" asked Imbrie.
+
+"I didn't know. I took a chance. I had the gun and a belt of cartridges.
+I can snare fool-hens and catch fish. It was a sight better than going
+to jail. I knew if the policeman got you he'd bring you down river, and
+I figured I'd have another chance to get him. And if you got him I
+figured there wouldn't be any hurry, and you'd wait for awhile for me."
+
+"You did well," said Imbrie with condescending approval.
+
+"Nearly all night I walked along the shore looking for your camp. At
+last I saw the little tent and I knew I was all right. Then I waited for
+daylight to shoot. The damned policeman turned his head as I fired, or I
+would have finished him."
+
+Imbrie dropped into the Indian tongue that they ordinarily used. From
+his knowledge of the Beaver language Stonor understood it pretty well,
+though a word escaped him here and there.
+
+"What will we do with him?" he said.
+
+"Be careful," she said. "They may understand."
+
+"No fear of that. We know that Clare doesn't speak our tongue."
+
+"Maybe the policeman speaks Beaver."
+
+"He doesn't, though. He spoke English to them. I asked Shose Cardinal if
+he spoke Beaver, and he said no. And when I pushed off I insulted him in
+our tongue, and he paid no attention. Listen to this----"
+
+Imbrie turned, and in the Indian tongue addressed an unrepeatable insult
+to the wounded trooper. Stonor, though almost suffocated with rage,
+contrived to maintain an unchanged face.
+
+"You see?" said Imbrie to the woman, laughing. "No white man would take
+that. We can say what we like to each other. Speak English now just to
+torment him, the swine! Ask me in English what I'm going to do with
+him."
+
+She did so.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," he answered carelessly. "Just tie him up, I guess,
+and leave him sitting here."
+
+"Tie him up?" she said with an evil smile.
+
+"Sure! Give him leisure to prepare for his end."
+
+They laughed together.
+
+Stonor dreaded the effect of this on Clare. She, however, seemed to be
+upborne by some inner thought.
+
+"I know something better than that," the woman said presently.
+
+"What?"
+
+"Don't tie him up. Leave him just as he is, without gun, axe or knife.
+Let him walk around until he goes off his nut or starves to death. Then
+there'll be no evidence. But if you leave him tied they'll find his body
+with the rope round it."
+
+"That's a good idea. But he might possibly make his way to Myengeen's
+village."
+
+"Just let him try it. It's a hundred and fifty miles round by land.
+Muskeg and down timber."
+
+"But if he sticks to the river, Mary Moosa might bring him back help."
+
+"She'll get no help from Myengeen. She's got to go to Enterprise for
+help. Two weeks. Even a redbreast couldn't last two weeks in the bush.
+And by that time we'll be----"
+
+"Easy!" said Imbrie warningly.
+
+"We'll be out of reach," she said, laughing.
+
+"All right, it's a go," said Imbrie. "We'll leave him just as he is.
+Pack up now."
+
+Stonor glanced anxiously at Clare. Her face was deathly pale, but she
+kept her head up.
+
+"Do you think I'm going to go and leave him here?" she said firmly to
+Imbrie.
+
+"Don't see how you're going to help yourself," said he, without meeting
+her eyes.
+
+"If you put me in the dug-out I'll overturn it," she said promptly.
+
+Imbrie was taken aback. "I'll tie you up," he muttered, scowling.
+
+"You cannot tie me so tight that I can't overturn that cranky boat."
+
+"You'll be the first to drown."
+
+She smiled. "Do you think I value the life you offer me?" She held out
+her hands to him. "Tie me and see."
+
+There could be no mistaking the firmness of her resolve. Imbrie
+hesitated and weakened. He turned to the breed woman questioningly.
+
+She said in the Indian tongue: "What do you look at me for? I've told
+you before that you're risking both our necks by taking her. The world
+is full of skinny little pale-faced women, but you've only got one neck.
+Better leave her with the man."
+
+Imbrie shook his head slowly.
+
+The woman shrugged. "Well, if you got to have her, fix it to suit
+yourself." She ostentatiously went on with the packing.
+
+Imbrie looked sidewise at Clare with a kind of hungry pain in his sullen
+eyes. "I won't leave her," he muttered. "I'll take them both."
+
+The woman flung up her hands in a passionate gesture. "Foolishness!" she
+cried.
+
+A new idea seemed to occur to Imbrie; he said in English: "I'll take the
+redbreast for my servant. Upstream work is no cinch. I'll make him track
+us. It'll be a novelty to have a redbreast for a servant."
+
+Clare glanced anxiously at Stonor as if expecting an outbreak.
+
+Imbrie asked with intolerable insolence: "Will you be my servant,
+Redbreast?"
+
+Clare's hands clenched, and she scowled at Imbrie like a little
+fire-eater.
+
+Stonor answered calmly: "If I have to be."
+
+Clare's eyes darted to him full of relief and gratitude; she had not
+expected so great a sacrifice. The brave lip trembled.
+
+Imbrie laughed. "Good!" he cried. "Redbreasts don't relish starving in
+the bush any better than ordinary men!"
+
+The breed woman, on the verge of an angry outburst, checked herself, and
+merely shrugged again. She said quietly in her own tongue: "He thinks
+he's going to escape."
+
+"Sure he does!" answered Imbrie, "and I'm the man who will prevent him.
+I'll keep the weapons in my own hands."
+
+True to his word he collected all the weapons in the outfit; three guns,
+the revolver and three knives. He gave the breed woman her own gun and
+her ammunition-belt, which she strapped round her; he kept his gun, and
+the other two fire-arms he disabled by removing parts of the mechanism,
+which he put in his pocket. He stuck two knives in his belt, and gave
+the woman the third, which she slipped into its customary resting-place
+in the top of her moccasin. Imbrie ordered Stonor to get up and strike
+Clare's tent.
+
+"He must be fed," said Clare quickly.
+
+"Sure, I don't mind feeding him as long as he's going to earn it," said
+Imbrie.
+
+Clare hastened to carry Stonor her untasted plate, but Imbrie
+intercepted her. "No more whispering," he said, scowling. "Eat your own
+breakfast. The woman will feed him."
+
+In half an hour they were on their way back up the river. They allowed
+Stonor to rest and recuperate in the dug-out until they came to the
+first rapid. Later, the policeman bent to the tracking-line with a good
+will. This was better luck than he had hoped for. His principal fear was
+that he might not be able to dissemble sufficiently to keep their
+suspicions lulled. He knew, of course, that if they should guess of what
+he was thinking his life would not be worth a copper penny. His
+intuition told him that even though he was a prisoner, Clare was safe
+from Imbrie while he was present, and he had determined to submit
+cheerfully to anything in order to keep alive. He only needed three or
+four more days!
+
+So, with a loop of the tracking-line over his shoulder, he plodded
+through the ooze of the shore, and over the stones; waded out round
+reefs, and plunged headlong through overhanging willows. Imbrie walked
+behind him with his gun over his arm. Clare lay on the baggage in the
+dug-out wistfully watching Stonor's back, and the breed woman steered.
+In the more sluggish reaches of the river, the men went aboard and
+paddled.
+
+When they spelled in mid-morning Imbrie and the woman became involved in
+a discussion of which Stonor understood almost every word. They had
+finished eating, and all four were sitting in a row on a beach with
+great stones sticking up through the sand. Clare was at one end, Stonor
+at the other. They were giving Stonor a rest as they might have rested a
+horse before putting him in harness again.
+
+The woman said impatiently: "How long are you going to keep up this
+foolishness?"
+
+"What foolishness?" Imbrie said sullenly.
+
+"Letting this man live. He's your enemy and mine. He's not going to
+forget that I shot at him twice. He's got some scheme in his head right
+now. He's much too willing to work."
+
+"That's just women's talk. I know what I'm doing. I've got him just
+right because he's scared of losing the girl."
+
+"All right. Many times you ask me what to do. Sometimes you don't do
+what I say, and then you're sorry afterwards. I tell you this is
+foolishness. You want the white-face girl and you let the man live to
+please her! What sense is there in that? She won't take you as long as
+he lives."
+
+"If I kill him she'll kill herself."
+
+"Wah! That's just a threat. She'll hold it over you as long as he lives.
+When he's dead she'll have to make the best of it. You'll have to kill
+him in the end. Why not do it now?"
+
+"I know what I'm doing," repeated Imbrie stubbornly. "I'm the master
+now. Women turn naturally to the master. In a few days I'll put this
+white man so low she'll despise him."
+
+The woman laughed. "You don't know much about women. The worse you treat
+him the crazier she'll be about him. And if she gets a knife, look out!"
+
+"She won't get a knife. And if my way doesn't work I can always kill
+him. He's useful. We're getting up-stream faster than we would without
+him."
+
+"He's too willing to go up the river, I think."
+
+"There's no help for him up there, is there?"
+
+"I don't know. You'd better do what I say."
+
+"Oh, shut up. Go and pack the grub. We'll start soon."
+
+The woman went to obey with her customary shrug.
+
+Stonor had much food for thought in this conversation. He marked with
+high satisfaction that the way the woman spoke did not for a moment
+suggest that Imbrie had any rights over Clare, nor that he had ever
+possessed her in the past. Listen as he might, he could gain no clue to
+the relationship between the two speakers. He hoped they might betray
+themselves further later on. Meanwhile the situation was hazardous in
+the extreme. There was no doubt the woman would soon wear Imbrie down.
+If he, Stonor, could only communicate with Clare it would help.
+
+Imbrie turned to Clare with what he meant for an ingratiating smile. "Is
+your memory coming back at all?" he asked.
+
+In itself there was nothing offensive in the question, and Clare had the
+wit to see that nothing was to be gained by unnecessarily snubbing the
+man. "No," she said simply.
+
+"But you're all right in every other way. There's nothing the matter
+with you?"
+
+She let it go at that.
+
+"You don't remember the days when I was courting you?"
+
+"No," she said with an idle air, "where was that?"
+
+He saw the trap. "I'll tell you some other time.--Redbreast has long
+ears."
+
+While Imbrie's attention was occupied by Clare a possible way of sending
+her a message occurred to Stonor. The woman was busy at some paces'
+distance. Stonor was sitting on a flat stone with his feet in the sand.
+Carelessly picking up a stick, he commenced to make letters in the sand.
+Clare, whose eyes never left him for long, instantly became aware of
+what he was doing; but so well did she cover her glances that Imbrie
+took no alarm.
+
+Stonor, printing a word at a time, and instantly rubbing it out with his
+foot, wrote: "Make out to scorn me."
+
+Meanwhile Imbrie was making agreeable conversation and Clare was leading
+him on sufficiently to keep him interested. Small as his success was, he
+was charmed with it. Finally he rose regretfully.
+
+"Time to go," he said. "Go get in your harness, Stonor."
+
+The trooper arose and slouched to the tracking-line with a hang-dog air.
+Clare's eyes followed him in well-assumed indignation at his supineness.
+
+"He'll make a good pack-horse yet," said Imbrie with a laugh.
+
+"So it seems," she said bitterly.
+
+They started. Imbrie, much encouraged by this little passage, continued
+to bait Stonor at intervals during the afternoon. The policeman, fearful
+of appearing to submit too suddenly, sometimes rebelled, but always
+sullenly gave in when Imbrie raised his gun. Stonor saw that, so far as
+the man was concerned, he need have little fear of overdoing his part.
+Imbrie in his vanity was quite ready to believe that Clare was turning
+from Stonor to him. On the other hand, the breed woman was not at all
+deceived. Her lip curled scornfully at all this by-play.
+
+Clare's glance at Stonor, keeping up what she had begun, progressed from
+surprise through indignation to open scorn. Meanwhile in the same ratio
+she held herself less and less aloof from Imbrie. She, too, was careful
+not to overdo it. She made it clear to Imbrie that it would be a good
+long time yet before he could expect any positive favours from her. She
+did it so well that Stonor, though he had himself told her to act in
+that manner, was tormented by the sight. After all, he was human.
+
+Once and once only during the day did Stonor's and Clare's glances meet
+unobserved by the others. It happened as the trooper was embarking in
+the dug-out preparatory to paddling up a smooth reach. Imbrie and the
+woman were both behind Clare, and she gave Stonor a deep look imploring
+his forgiveness for the wrong she seemed to do him. It heartened him
+amazingly. Bending low as he laid the coiled rope in the bow, his lips
+merely shaped the words:
+
+"Keep it up!"
+
+So long and so hard did they work that day that they were able to camp
+for the night only a few miles short of the highest point they had yet
+reached on the river. The camping-place was a pleasant opening up on top
+of the bank, carpeted with pine-needles. The murmur of the pines
+reminded Clare and Stonor of nights on the lower river--nights both
+happy and terrible, which now seemed years past.
+
+While supper was preparing Clare appeared out of her tent with some long
+strips of cotton. She went unhesitatingly to where Stonor sat.
+
+Imbrie sprang up. "Keep away from him!" he snarled.
+
+Clare calmly sat down by Stonor. "I'm going to dress his wound," she
+said. "I'd do the same for a dog. I don't want to speak to him. You can
+sit beside me while I work."
+
+Imbrie sullenly submitted.
+
+After supper it appeared from Imbrie's evil grin that he was promising
+himself a bit of fun with the policeman. But this time he was taking no
+chances.
+
+"I'm tired of toting this gun around; tie his hands," he ordered the
+woman.
+
+The night was chilly and they had a good fire on the edge of the bank.
+It lighted them weirdly as they sat in a semi-circle about it, the four
+strangely-assorted figures backed by the brown trunks of the pines, and
+roofed by the high branches. Stonor safely tied up, Imbrie put down his
+gun and lighted his pipe. He studied the policeman maliciously. He was
+not quite satisfied; even in Stonor's submission he felt a spirit that
+he had not yet broken.
+
+"You policemen think pretty well of yourselves, don't you?" he said.
+
+Stonor, clearly perceiving the man's intention, was nevertheless
+undisturbed. This vermin was beneath him. His difficulty was to curb the
+sly desire to answer back. Imbrie gave him such priceless openings. But
+the part he had imposed on himself required that he seemed to be cowed
+by the man's crude attempts at wit. A seeming sullen silence was his
+only safe line. It required no little self-control.
+
+Imbrie went on: "The government sets you fellows up as a kind of bogey.
+For years they've been teaching the natives that a red-coat is a kind of
+sacred monkey that all must bow down to. And you forget you're only a
+man like the rest of us. When you meet a man who isn't scared off by all
+this hocus-pocus it comes pretty hard on you. You have to sing small,
+don't you, Redbreast?"
+
+Silence from Stonor.
+
+"I say you have to sing small, Redbreast."
+
+"Just as you like."
+
+"I've heard ugly tales about the police," Imbrie went on. "It seems
+they're not above turning a bit of profit out of their jobs when it's
+safe. Is that so, Stonor?"
+
+"I hear you say it."
+
+"You yourself only took me up in the first place because you thought
+there was a bit of a bribe in it, or a jug of whisky maybe. You thought
+I was a whisky-runner, but you couldn't prove it. I guess you're sorry
+now that you ever fooled with me, aren't you, Redbreast?"
+
+Stonor said nothing.
+
+"Answer me when I speak to you. Aren't you sorry now that you interfered
+with me?"
+
+This was a hard one. A vein stood out on Stonor's forehead. He thought:
+"I wouldn't say it for myself, but for her----!" Aloud he muttered:
+"Yes!"
+
+Imbrie roared with laughter. "I'm putting the police in their place!" he
+cried. "I'm teaching them manners! I'll have him eating out of my hand
+before I'm through with him!"
+
+Clare, seeing the swollen vein, bled for Stonor, yet she gave him a
+glance of scorn, and the look she gave Imbrie caused him to rise as if
+moved by a spring, and cross to her.
+
+As he passed the breed woman he said in the Indian tongue: "Well, who
+was right, old woman?"
+
+He sat down beside Clare.
+
+The woman answered: "You fool! She's playing with you to save her lover.
+Any woman would do the same."
+
+"You lie!" said Imbrie, with a fatuous side-glance at Clare. "She's
+beginning to like me now."
+
+"Beginning to like you!" cried the woman scornfully. "Fool! Watch me!
+I'll show you how much she likes you!"
+
+Springing to her feet, and stooping over, she drew the knife from her
+moccasin. She turned on Stonor. "Redbreast!" she cried in English. "I'm
+sick of looking at your ugly face. Here's where I spoil it!"
+
+She raised the knife. Her eyes blazed. Stonor really thought his hour
+had come. He scrambled to his feet. Clare, with a scream, ran between
+them, and flung her arms around Stonor's neck.
+
+"You beast!" she cried over her shoulder to the woman. "A bound man!
+You'll have to strike him through me!"
+
+The woman threw back her head and uttered a great, coarse laugh. She
+coolly returned the knife to her moccasin. "You see how much she likes
+you," she said to Imbrie.
+
+Clare, seeing how she had been tricked, unwound her arms from Stonor's
+neck, and covered her face. It seemed too cruel that all their pains the
+livelong day should go for nothing in a moment. Imbrie was scowling at
+them hatefully.
+
+"Don't distress yourself," whispered Stonor. "It couldn't be helped. We
+gained a whole day by it anyway. I'll think of something else for
+to-morrow."
+
+"Keep clear of him!" cried Imbrie. "Go to your tent!"
+
+"I won't!" Clare said.
+
+"Better go!" whispered Stonor. "I am safe for the present."
+
+She went slowly to her tent and disappeared.
+
+Stonor sat down again. Across the fire Imbrie scowled and pulled at his
+lip. The breed woman, returning to her place, had the good sense to hold
+her tongue.
+
+After a long while Imbrie said sullenly in the Indian tongue: "Well,
+you've got your way. You can kill him to-morrow."
+
+Stonor was a brave man, but a chill struck to his breast.
+
+"I kill him?" said the woman. "Why have I got to do all the dirty work?"
+
+"What do you care? You've already tried twice."
+
+"Why don't you kill him yourself?"
+
+"I'm not afraid of him."
+
+"Maybe not. With his hands tied."
+
+Imbrie's fist clenched. "Do you want me to beat you?"
+
+The woman shrugged.
+
+"You know very well why I don't want to do it," Imbrie went on. "It's
+nothing to you if the girl hates you."
+
+"Oh, that's why, eh? You're scared she'd turn from bloody hands! She's
+made a fool of you, all right!"
+
+"Never mind that. You do it to-morrow."
+
+"Why not to-night?"
+
+"I won't have it done in her sight. To-morrow morning when we spell you
+make some excuse to take him into the bush. There you shoot him or stick
+a knife in his back. I don't care so long as you make a job of it. You
+come back alone and make a story of how he tried to run away, see? Then
+I'll beat you----"
+
+"Beat me!" she cried indignantly.
+
+"Fool! I won't hurt you. I'll just act rough to you for a while, till
+she gets better."
+
+"That girl has made me plenty trouble these last two years. I wish I'd
+never set eyes on her!"
+
+"Forget it! Tie his feet together so he can't wander and go to bed now!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mary Moosa's little mosquito-tent was still in Imbrie's outfit, but the
+woman preferred to roll up in her blanket by the fire like a man. Soon
+the two of them were sleeping as calmly as two children, and Stonor was
+left to his own thoughts.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a silent quartette that took to the river next day. Imbrie was
+sulky; it appeared that he no longer found any relish in gibing at
+Stonor. Clare was pale and downcast. After an hour or so they came to
+the rapids where Stonor had intercepted Imbrie and Clare, and thereafter
+the river was new to them. Stonor gathered from their talk that the
+river was new, too, to Imbrie and the woman, but that they had received
+information as to its course from Kakisa sources.
+
+For many miles after that the current ran smooth and slow, and they
+paddled the dug-out; Stonor in the bow, Imbrie guarding him with the
+gun, Clare behind Imbrie, and the breed woman with the stern-paddle. All
+with their backs to each other and all silent. About ten o'clock they
+came to the mouth of a little creek coming in at the left, and here
+Imbrie indicated they would spell.
+
+"So this is the spot designed for my murder," thought Stonor, looking
+over the ground with a natural interest.
+
+The little brook was deep and sluggish; its surface was powdered with
+tiny lilies and, at its edges, long grass trailed in the water. A clean,
+grassy bank sloped up gradually. Further back were white-stemmed
+aspen-trees gradually thickening into the forest proper.
+
+"Ideal place for a picnic," thought Stonor grimly. As they went ashore
+he perceived that the breed woman was somewhat agitated. She continually
+wiped her forehead on her sleeve. This was somehow more reassuring than
+her usual inhuman stolidity. Imbrie clearly was anxious, too, but not
+about Stonor or what was going to happen to him. His eyes continually
+sought Clare's face.
+
+The breed woman glanced inquiringly at Imbrie. He said in the Indian
+tongue: "We'll eat first."
+
+"So I have an hour's respite," thought Stonor.
+
+None of them displayed much appetite. Stonor forced himself to eat.
+Imbrie glanced at him oddly from time to time. "He's sorry to see good
+food wasted," thought the trooper. "Well, it won't be, if I can help
+it!"
+
+When they had finished the woman said in English with a very careless
+air: "I'm going to see if I can get some fresh meat."
+
+"She means me," thought Stonor.
+
+She got her gun and departed. Stonor was aware likewise of the knife
+sticking out of the top of her moccasin. Both Imbrie and the woman had a
+self-conscious air. A child could have seen that something was afoot.
+The woman walked off through the grass and was presently lost among the
+trees.
+
+Imbrie commanded Stonor to wash the dishes.
+
+Stonor reflected that since they meant to kill him anyhow if they could,
+there was nothing to be gained by putting up with further indignities.
+
+"Wash them yourself," he said coolly.
+
+Imbrie shrugged, but said no more.
+
+Pretty soon they heard a shot at no great distance.
+
+Stonor thought: "Now she'll come back and say she's got a bear or a
+moose, and they'll order me to go back with her and bring in the meat.
+Shall I go, or shall I refuse to go? If I refuse they're almost sure to
+suspect that I understand their lingo; but if I go I may be able to
+disarm her. I'll go."
+
+Presently they saw her returning. "I've got a moose," she said stolidly.
+
+Stonor smiled a grim inward smile. It was too simple to ask him to
+believe that she had walked into the bush and brought down a moose
+within five minutes with one shot. He knew very well that if there was a
+feast in prospect her face would be wreathed in smiles. He was careful
+to betray nothing in his own face.
+
+Imbrie was a better actor. "Good work!" he cried. "Now we'll have
+something fit to eat."
+
+She said: "I want help to bring in the meat."
+
+"Stonor, go help her," said Imbrie carelessly.
+
+The trooper got up with an indifferent air.
+
+"Martin, don't go!" Clare said involuntarily.
+
+"I'm not afraid of her," Stonor said.
+
+The woman forced him to walk in advance of her across the grass. The
+thought of her behind him with the gun ready made Stonor's skin prickle
+uncomfortably, but he reflected that she would certainly not shoot until
+they were hidden in the bush.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When they reached the edge of the bush he stopped and looked at her.
+"Which way?" he asked, with an innocent air.
+
+"You can follow the tracks, can't you?" said she.
+
+He saw that she was pale and perspiring freely. She moistened her lips
+before she spoke.
+
+Half a dozen paces further on he stopped again.
+
+"Go on!" she said harshly.
+
+"Got to tie my moccasin," he said, dropping on one knee and turning half
+round, so that he could keep an eye on her. She gave a swift glance over
+her shoulder. They were not yet fully out of sight of the others.
+
+"Your moccasin is not untied," she said suddenly.
+
+At the same moment Stonor, still crouching, sprang at her, taking care
+to keep under the gun. Grasping her knees, he flung her to the ground.
+He got the gun, but before he could raise it, she sprang at him from all
+fours like a cat, and clung to him with a passionate fury no man could
+have been capable of. Stonor was unable to shake her off without
+dropping the gun. Meanwhile she screamed for aid.
+
+Both Imbrie and Clare came running. Imbrie, circling round the
+struggling pair, clubbed his gun and brought it down on Stonor's head.
+The trooper went to earth. He did not altogether lose consciousness. The
+woman, maddened, recovered her gun, and was for dispatching him on the
+spot, but Imbrie, thinking of Clare, prevented her.
+
+Stonor was soon able to rise, and to make his way back, albeit somewhat
+groggily, to the creek. Clare wished to support him, but he stopped her
+with a look.
+
+When they got back to their camp Imbrie demanded with seeming
+indignation: "What was the matter with you? What did you expect to gain
+by jumping on her?"
+
+"What did she take me into the bush for?" countered Stonor. "To put a
+bullet through me?"
+
+Imbrie made a great parade of surprise. "What makes you think that?"
+
+"She's tried twice already, hasn't she? I saw it in her eye. She saw it,
+too----" pointing to Clare. "You heard her warn me. She never shot a
+moose. That was too simple a trick."
+
+"I did shoot a moose," said the woman sullenly.
+
+"Then why don't you bring some of it in and let's see it. You have your
+knife to cut off as much as we can carry."
+
+She turned away with a discomposed face.
+
+"Oh, well, if you won't take the trouble to bring in the meat we'll go
+without it," said Imbrie quickly. Stonor laughed.
+
+As they were making ready to start Stonor heard Imbrie say bitterly to
+the woman, in their own tongue: "You made a pretty mess of that!"
+
+"Well, do it yourself, then," she snarled back.
+
+"Very well, I will. When I see a good chance."
+
+"This is only the 25th," thought Stonor. "By hook or by crook I must
+contrive to keep alive a couple of days longer."
+
+Above this camping-place the character of the river changed again. The
+banks became steep and stony, and the rapids succeeded each other with
+only a few hundred yards of smooth water between. Stonor became a
+fixture in the tracking-line. He worked with a right good will, hoping
+to make himself so useful that they would not feel inclined to get rid
+of him. It was a slim chance, but the best that offered at the moment.
+Moreover, every mile that he put behind him brought him so much nearer
+succour.
+
+That night in camp he had the satisfaction of hearing Imbrie say in
+answer to a question from the woman:
+
+"No, not to-night. All day he's been working like a slave to try and get
+on the good side of me. Well, let him work. I've no mind to break my
+back while I have him to work for me. According to the Kakisas we'll
+have rapids now for a long way up. Let him pull us."
+
+So Stonor could allow himself to sleep with an easy mind for that night,
+anyway.
+
+The next two days were without special incident. Stonor lived from
+moment to moment, his fate hanging on Imbrie's savage and irresponsible
+impulses. Fortunately for him, he was still able to inform himself from
+the talk of the two. Each day they broke camp, tracked up-stream,
+tracked and poled up the rapids, spelled and tracked again. In the
+rapids it was the breed woman who had to help Stonor. Imbrie would stand
+by smoking, with his gun over his arm. Stonor wondered at the woman's
+patience.
+
+At the end of the second day they found another soft sandy beach to camp
+on. Stonor was so weary he could scarcely remain awake long enough to
+eat. They all turned in immediately afterwards. Latterly Imbrie had been
+forcing Stonor to lie close to him at night, and the end of the line
+that bound Stonor's wrists was tied around Imbrie's arm. The breed woman
+lay on the other side of the fire, and Clare's tent was pitched beyond
+her.
+
+Stonor was awakened by a soft touch on his cheek. Having his nerves
+under good control, he gave no start. Opening his eyes, he saw Clare's
+face smiling adorably, not a foot from his own. At first he thought he
+was dreaming, and lay scarcely daring to breathe, for fear of
+dissipating the charming phantom.
+
+But the phantom spoke: "Martin, you looked so tired to-night it made me
+cry. I could not sleep. I had to come and speak to you. Did I do wrong?"
+
+He feasted his tired eyes on her. How could he blame her? "Dangerous,"
+he whispered. "These breeds sleep like cats."
+
+"What's the difference? It's as bad as it can be already."
+
+He shook his head. "They have not ill-treated you."
+
+"I wouldn't mind if they did. It is terrible to see you work so hard,
+while I do nothing. Why do you work so hard for them?"
+
+"I have hope of meeting help up the river."
+
+She smiled incredulously. Stonor, seeing her resigned to the worst, said
+no more about his hopes. After all they might fail, and it would be
+better not to raise her hopes only to dash them.
+
+"Better go," he urged. "Every little while through the night one or the
+other of these breeds wakes, sits up, looks around, and goes back to
+sleep again."
+
+"Are you glad I came, Martin?"
+
+"Very glad. Go back to your tent, and we'll talk in fancy until we fall
+asleep again."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor was awakened the next time by a loud, jeering laugh. It was full
+daylight. The breed woman was standing at his feet, pointing mockingly
+to the tell-tale print of Clare's little body in the sand beside him. A
+blinding rage filled Stonor at the implication of that coarse laugh--but
+he was helpless. Imbrie started up, and Stonor attempted to roll over on
+the depression--but Imbrie saw it, saw also the little tracks leading
+around behind the sleepers to Clare's tent.
+
+No sound escaped from Imbrie, but his smooth face turned hideous with
+rage; the lips everted over the clenched teeth, the ruddy skin livid and
+blotchy. He quickly untied the bond between him and Stonor. The woman,
+with a wicked smile, drew the knife out of her moccasin, and offered it
+to him. He eagerly snatched it up. Stonor's eyes were fixed
+unflinchingly on his face. He thought: "It has come!"
+
+But at that moment Clare came out of her tent. Imbrie hid the knife and
+turned away. As he passed the breed woman Stonor heard him mutter:
+
+"I'll fix him to-night!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That day as he trod the shore, bent under the tracking-line, Stonor had
+plenty to occupy his mind. Over and over he made his calculations of
+time and distance:
+
+"This is the twenty-seventh. It was the fifteenth when I sent Tole
+Grampierre back to Enterprise. If he rode hard he'd get there about noon
+on the seventeenth. The steamboat isn't due to start up-stream until
+the twentieth, but Gaviller would surely let her go at once when he got
+my message. She'd only need to get wood aboard and steam up. She could
+steam night and day too, at this stage of water; she's done it
+before--that is, if they had anybody to relieve Mathews at the engine.
+There are plenty of pilots. Surely Gaviller would order her to steam
+night and day when he read my letter! Even suppose they didn't get away
+until the morning of the eighteenth: that would bring them to the
+Crossing by the twenty-second.
+
+"Lambert, I know, would not lose an hour in setting out over the
+prairie--just long enough to get horses together and swim them across. I
+can depend on him. Nobody knows how far it is overland from the Crossing
+to the Swan River. Nobody's been that way. But the chances are it's
+prairie land, and easy going. Say the rivers are about the same distance
+apart up there, Lambert ought to reach the Swan on the twenty-fifth, or
+at the latest the twenty-sixth. That's only yesterday. But we must have
+made two hundred or two hundred and fifty miles up-stream. The Swan
+certainly makes a straighter course than the Spirit. It must be less
+than a hundred miles from here to the spot where Lambert would hit this
+stream. He could make seventy-five miles or more a day down-stream. He
+would work. If everything has gone well I might meet him to-day.
+
+"But things never go just the way you want them to. I must not count on
+it. Gaviller may have delayed. He's so careful of his precious
+steamboat. Or she may have run on a bar. Or Lambert may have met
+unexpected difficulties. I must know what I'm going to do. Once my hands
+are tied to-night my goose is cooked. Shall I resist the woman when she
+tries to tie my hands? But Imbrie always stands beside her with the gun;
+that would simply mean being shot down before Clare's eyes. Shall I let
+them bind me and take what comes?--No! I must put up a fight somehow!
+Suppose I make a break for it as soon as we land? If there happens to be
+cover I may get away with it. Better be shot on the wing than sitting
+down with my hands tied. And if I got clean away, Clare would know there
+was still a chance. I'll make a break for it!"
+
+He looked at the sky, the shining river and the shapely trees. "This may
+be my last day on the old ball! Good old world too! You don't think what
+it means until the time comes to say ta-ta to it all; sunny mornings,
+and starry nights, with the double trail of the Milky Way moseying
+across the sky. I've scarcely tasted life yet--mustn't think of that!
+Twenty-seven years old, and nothing done! If I could feel that I had
+left something solid behind me it would be easier to go."
+
+Pictures of his boyhood in the old Canadian city presented themselves
+unasked; the maple-foliage, incredibly dense and verdant, the shabby,
+comfortable houses behind the trees, and the homely, happy-go-lucky
+people who lived in the houses and sprayed their lawns on summer
+evenings; friendly people, like people everywhere prone to laughter and
+averse to thought. "People are so foolish and likeable, it's amazing!"
+thought Stonor, visualizing his kind for the first.
+
+The sights and sounds and smells of the old town came thronging back;
+the school-bell with its flat clangour, exactly like no other bell on
+earth--it rang until five minutes before the hour, stopping with a
+muttering complaint, and you ran the rest of the way. There was the
+Dominion Hotel, with a tar pavement in front that became semi-liquid on
+hot days; no resident of that town ever forgot the pungent smell
+compounded of tar, stale beer, sawdust, and cabbage that greeted you in
+passing. And the candy-store was next door; the butterscotch they sold
+there!
+
+How he used to get up early on summer mornings and, with his faithful
+mongrel Jack, with the ridiculous curly tail, walk and run a mile to the
+railway-station to see the Transcontinental stop and pass on. How the
+sun shone down the empty streets before any one was up! Strange how his
+whole life seemed to be coloured by the newly-risen sun! And the long
+train with the mysterious, luxurious sleeping-cars, an occasional
+tousled head at the window; lucky head, bound on a long journey!
+
+"Well, I've journeyed some myself since then," thought Stonor, "and I
+have a longer journey before me!"
+
+They spelled at ten o'clock, and again at three. "The last lap!" thought
+Stonor, as they took to the river after the second stop. All depended on
+the spot Imbrie should choose for their next camp. Stonor studied the
+nature of the ground anxiously. The banks continued to rise steep and
+high almost from the water's edge. These slopes for the most part were
+wooded, but a wood on a steep stony slope does not offer good cover.
+
+"Small chance of scrambling over the top in such a place without
+stopping a bullet," thought Stonor. "If we come to a more favourable
+spot should I suggest camping? No! for Imbrie would be sure to keep on
+out of pure obstinacy. I might have a chance if I zig-zagged up the
+hill. The worst part will be running away from Clare. Suppose she cries
+out or tries to follow. If I could warn her!"
+
+But Imbrie was taking very good care that no communications passed
+between the two to-day.
+
+They came to a place where a limestone ridge made a rapid wilder than
+any they had passed on the upper river, almost a cataract. Much time was
+consumed in dragging the dug-out over the shelves of rock alongside. The
+ridge made a sort of dam in the river; and above there was a long
+reach, smooth and sluggish. Imbrie ordered Stonor aboard to paddle, and
+the trooper was not sorry for the change of exercise.
+
+The sun was dropping low now, and Stonor little by little gave up hope
+of meeting help that day. In the course of the smooth reach they came
+upon an island, quaintly shaped like a woman's hat, with a stony beach
+all round for a brim, a high green crown, and a clump of pines for an
+aigrette. In its greatest diameter it was less than a hundred feet.
+
+Coming abreast of the island, Imbrie, without saying anything in advance
+of his intention, steered the dug-out so that she grounded on the beach.
+The others looked round at him in surprise.
+
+"We'll camp here," he said curtly.
+
+Stonor's heart sank. An island! "It's early yet," he said, with a
+careless air.
+
+"The dug-out's leaking," said Imbrie. "I want to fix her before dark."
+
+"There's no gum on the island."
+
+"I have it with me."
+
+Imbrie said this with a meaning grin, and Stonor could not be sure but
+that the man suspected his design of escaping. There was nothing for it
+but to submit for the moment. If they attempted to bind him he would put
+up the best fight he could. If they left him free until dark he might
+still escape by swimming.
+
+They landed. The breed woman, as a matter of course, prepared to do all
+the work, while Imbrie sat down with his pipe and his gun. He ordered
+Stonor to sit near. The policeman obeyed, keeping himself on the _qui
+vive_ for the first hostile move. Clare, merely to be doing something,
+put up her own little tent. The breed woman started preparing supper,
+and then, taking everything out of the dug-out, pulled it up on the
+stones, and turning it over applied the gum to the little crack that had
+opened in the bottom.
+
+They supped as usual, Stonor being guarded by the woman while Imbrie
+ate. Stonor and Clare were kept at a little distance from each other.
+There was nothing that they cared to say to each other within hearing of
+their jailors. Soon afterwards Clare went to her tent. Stonor watched
+her disappear with a gripping pain at his heart, wondering if he would
+ever see her again. "She might have looked her good-night," he thought
+resentfully, even while better sense told him she had refrained from
+looking at him only because such indications of an understanding always
+infuriated Imbrie.
+
+The dusk was beginning to gather. Imbrie waited a little while, then
+said carelessly:
+
+"Tie him up now."
+
+The woman went to get the piece of line she used for the purpose. Stonor
+got warily to his feet.
+
+"What do you want to tie me up for?" he said, seeking to gain time. "I'm
+helpless without weapons. You might let me have one night's comfortable
+sleep. I work hard enough for it."
+
+Imbrie's suspicions were instantly aroused by this changed attitude of
+Stonor's, who had always before indifferently submitted. He raised the
+gun threateningly. "Shut up!" he said. "Hold your hands behind you."
+
+The woman was approaching with the line. Stonor moved so as to bring
+himself in a line between Imbrie and the woman. Out of the tail of his
+eye he saw Clare at the door of her tent, anxiously watching. He counted
+on the fact that Imbrie would not shoot while she was looking on without
+strong provocation. They were all down on the stony beach. Stonor kept
+edging closer to the water.
+
+Stonor still sought to parley. "What are you afraid of? You're both
+armed. What could I do? And you sleep like cats. I couldn't move hand or
+foot without waking you. I can't work all day, and sleep without being
+able to stretch myself."
+
+While he talked he manoeuvred to keep himself between Imbrie and the
+woman. Imbrie, to avoid the danger of hitting her, was obliged to keep
+circling round Stonor. Finally Stonor got him between him and the water.
+This was the moment he was waiting for. His muscles were braced like
+steel springs. Plunging at Imbrie, he got under the gun-barrel and bore
+the man back into the river. The gun was discharged harmlessly into the
+air. The beach sloped away sharply, and the force of his rush carried
+them both into three feet of water. They went under. Imbrie dropped his
+gun, and clung to Stonor with the desperate, instinctive grip of the
+non-swimmer. Like a ray of light the thought flashed through Stonor's
+brain: "I have him on equal terms now!"
+
+As they went under he was aware of the woman rushing into the water
+after him with the knife raised. He twisted his body so that Imbrie came
+uppermost and she was unable to strike. Stonor saw Clare running to the
+water's edge.
+
+"Get her gun!" he cried.
+
+Clare swerved to where it stood leaning against the overturned dug-out.
+The woman turned back, but Clare secured the gun before she was out of
+the water, and dashed into the thick bushes with it. Meanwhile Stonor
+dragged the struggling Imbrie into deeper water. They lost their footing
+and went under again. The woman, after a pause of agonized indecision,
+ran to the dug-out, and, righting it, pushed it into the water.
+
+Stonor, striking out as he could, carried his burden out beyond a man's
+depth. The current carried them slowly down. They were as much under the
+water as on top, but Stonor cannily held his breath, while Imbrie
+struggled insanely. Stonor, with his knee against the other's chest,
+broke his strangle-hold, and got him turned over on his back. Imbrie's
+struggles began to weaken.
+
+Meanwhile the dug-out was bearing down on them. Stonor waited until it
+came abreast and the woman swung her paddle to strike. Then letting go
+of Imbrie, he sank, and swimming under water, rose to the surface some
+yards distant. He saw that the woman had Imbrie by the hair. In this
+position it was impossible for her to wield her paddle, and the current
+was carrying her down. Stonor turned about and swam blithely back to the
+island.
+
+Clare, still carrying the gun, came out of the bushes to meet him. They
+clasped hands.
+
+"I knew there was only one bullet," she said. "I was afraid to fire at
+the woman for fear of missing her."
+
+"You did right," he said.
+
+Stonor found the gun that Imbrie had dropped in the water. From the
+beach they watched to see what the breed woman would do.
+
+"When she gets near the rapids she'll either have to let go Imbrie or be
+carried over," Stonor said grimly.
+
+But the woman proved to be not without her resources. Still with one
+hand clutched in Imbrie's hair, she contrived to wriggle out of the
+upper part of her dress. Out of this she made a sling, passing it under
+the unconscious man's arms, and tying it to the thwart of the dug-out.
+She then paddled ashore and dragged the man out on the beach. There they
+saw her stand looking at him helplessly. Save for the dug-out she was
+absolutely empty-handed, without so much as a match to start a fire
+with.
+
+Presently she loaded the inert body in the dug-out, and, getting in
+herself, came paddling back towards the island. Stonor grimly awaited
+her, with the gun over his arm. The dusk was thickening, and Clare built
+up the fire.
+
+When she came near, Stonor said, raising the gun: "Come no closer till I
+give you leave."
+
+She raised her hands. "I give up," she said apathetically. "I've got to
+have fire for him, blankets. Maybe he is dead."
+
+"He's only half-drowned," said Stonor. "I can bring him to if you do
+what I tell you."
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Throw your ammunition-belt ashore, then your knife, and the two knives
+that Imbrie carries in his belt."
+
+She obeyed. Stonor gratefully buckled on the belt. She landed, and
+permitted her hands to be bound. Stonor then pulled the dug-out out on
+the stones, and turning it over rolled Imbrie on the bottom of it until
+he got most of the water out of him. Then, laying him on his back, after
+half an hour's unremitting work, he succeeded in inducing respiration. A
+little colour returned to Imbrie's face, and in the end he opened his
+eyes and looked stupidly around him. At these signs of returning
+animation the enigma of a woman suddenly lowered her head and broke into
+a dry hard sobbing.
+
+So intent were they upon the matter in hand they never thought of
+looking out on the river. It was as dark now as it would be, and anyway
+the glow of the fire blinded them to what lay outside its radius.
+Suddenly out of the murk came with stunning effect a deep-throated hail:
+
+"Stonor, is that you?"
+
+The policeman straightened like a man who received an electric shock. A
+great light broke in his face.
+
+"Lambert! Thank God!" he cried.
+
+Two clumsy little pot-bellied collapsible boats grounded on the stones
+below their fire and, as it seemed to their confused senses, they were
+immediately surrounded by a whole crowd of friendly faces. Stonor was
+aware, not of one red coat, but of three, and two natives besides. The
+rubicund face of his commanding officer, Major Egerton, "Patch-pants"
+Egerton, the best-loved man in the North, swam before his eyes. Somehow
+or other he contrived to salute.
+
+"I have the honour to turn over two prisoners, sir. This man who claims
+to be Doctor Ernest Imbrie, and this woman, name unknown to me."
+
+"Good work, Sergeant!" Having returned his salute, the little Major
+unbent, and offered Stonor his hand.
+
+"This is a surprise, sir, to see you," said the latter.
+
+"I had just got to the Crossing on my rounds when your note came to
+Lambert. So I came right on with him." Major Egerton's glance took in
+Stonor's bandaged skull and dripping clothes, the woman's bound hands,
+and Imbrie just returning to consciousness. "I judge you've been having
+a strenuous time," he remarked drily.
+
+"Somewhat, sir."
+
+"You shall tell me all about it, when we've settled down a bit. We had
+already camped for the night, when we saw the reflection of your fire,
+and came down to investigate. Introduce me to the lady."
+
+The little Major bowed to Clare in his best style. His face betrayed no
+consciousness of the strangeness of the situation, in that while Dr.
+Imbrie was a prisoner, Mrs. Imbrie was obviously under Stonor's
+protection. He engaged her in conversation about the weather as if they
+had just met at a lawn fete. It was exactly what the shaken Clare
+needed.
+
+Meanwhile Stonor slipped aside to his friends. "Lambert!" he cried,
+gripping his brother-sergeant's hand, "God knows your ugly phiz is a
+beautiful sight to my eyes! I knew I could depend on you! I knew it!"
+
+Lambert silently clapped him on the back. He saw from Stonor's face what
+he must have been through.
+
+Beyond Lambert Stonor caught sight of a gleaming smile on a dark face.
+"Tole!" he cried. "They brought you! How good it is to find one's
+friends!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE HEARING
+
+
+They moved to a better camping-place on the mainland. Major Egerton
+could rough it as well as any youngster in the service, but as a matter
+of principle he always carried a folding bed, table, and chair in his
+outfit. These simple articles made a great impression on the natives.
+When the Major's tent was pitched, and the table and chair set up
+inside, the effect of a court of justice was immediately created, even
+in the remotest wilderness.
+
+Next morning they all gathered in his tent. The Major sat at the table
+with Coulter, his orderly and general factotum, sitting on a box at his
+left with pen and note-book before him. Stonor stood at the Major's
+right. The two prisoners stood facing the table, with Lambert keeping an
+eye on them. Clare sat in the place of honour on the Major's cot against
+the side of the tent. Tole and Ancose squatted on their heels just
+inside the door.
+
+"I'll start with the woman," said the Major. Addressing her directly, he
+said sternly: "It is my duty to tell you that anything you may say here
+can be used against you later, and it is therefore your privilege to
+refuse to answer. At the same time a refusal to answer naturally
+suggests the fear of incriminating yourself, so think well before you
+refuse. Do you understand me?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Ah, you speak good English. That simplifies matters. First, what is
+your name?"
+
+"Annie Alexander."
+
+"Married?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Age?"
+
+"Forty-four."
+
+"Hm! You don't look it. What is your relation to the other prisoner
+here?"
+
+"No relation, just a friend."
+
+"Ah? Where do you come from?"
+
+The woman hesitated.
+
+Imbrie murmured: "Winnipeg."
+
+"Be silent!" cried the Major. "Sergeant Lambert, take that man out, and
+keep him out of earshot until I call you."
+
+It was done.
+
+"How long have you been in this country?"
+
+"Since Spring--May."
+
+"How did you come in?"
+
+"By way of Caribou Lake and the Crossing."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"By what means did you travel?"
+
+"I got passage on a york boat up the rivers, and across Caribou Lake.
+From the lake a freighter took me on his load across the long portage to
+the Crossing."
+
+"Ancose," said the Major, "you watch the prisoner outside, and ask
+Sergeant Lambert to step here."
+
+Meanwhile he went on with his questions. "How did you travel from the
+Crossing?"
+
+"I built a little raft and floated down the Spirit River to Carcajou
+Point."
+
+Lambert came in.
+
+"Lambert," said the Major, "this woman claims to have come over the
+portage to the Crossing in May with a freighter and to have built a raft
+there and floated down the river. Can you verify her story?"
+
+"No, sir, never saw her before."
+
+"Is it possible for her to have done such a thing?"
+
+"Possible, sir," said Lambert cautiously, "but not likely. It's part of
+my business to keep track of all who come and go. There are not enough
+travellers to make that difficult. Such an extraordinary thing as a
+woman travelling alone on a raft would have been the talk of the
+country. If I might ask her a question, sir----?"
+
+The Major signed to him to do so.
+
+"What was the name of the freighter who brought you over the portage?"
+
+"I don't know his whole name. Men called him Jack."
+
+Lambert shrugged. "There's many a Jack, sir."
+
+"Of course. Let it go for the present." To the woman he said: "What was
+your object in making this long journey alone?"
+
+"Doctor Imbrie wrote to me to come and live with him. He had nobody to
+take care of his house and all that."
+
+"I see. What do you mean by saying he was your friend?" The Major asked
+this with an uneasy glance in Clare's direction.
+
+"Just my friend," answered the woman, with a hint of defiance. "I took
+care of him when he was little."
+
+"Ah, his nurse. When did you get the letter from him?"
+
+"In March."
+
+"Where was it sent from?"
+
+"Fort Enterprise."
+
+"Sergeant Stonor, can you testify as to that?"
+
+"I can testify that it is not true, sir. It was a matter of common
+knowledge at the post that Doctor Imbrie neither received nor sent any
+letters. We wondered at it. Furthermore, the only word received from him
+all winter was in January."
+
+The Major turned to the woman. "According to that you are telling an
+untruth about the letter," he said sternly. "Do you wish to change your
+statement?"
+
+She sullenly shook her head.
+
+The Major shrugged and went on. "Was Doctor Imbrie waiting for you at
+Carcajou Point?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why didn't you meet at Fort Enterprise, where there was a good trail to
+Swan River?"
+
+"He didn't feel like explaining things to the white men there. He likes
+to keep to himself."
+
+"Where did you go from Carcajou Point?"
+
+"We bought horses from the Beaver Indians and rode overland to Swan
+Lake."
+
+"Bought horses?" said the Major quickly. "How did Doctor Imbrie get to
+Carcajou in the first place?"
+
+She corrected herself. "I mean he bought extra horses for me, and for
+the outfit."
+
+"And you rode to Swan Lake on your way back to his place?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Did you go to his place?"
+
+"No, sir, I got sick at Swan Lake and he had to leave me."
+
+"But if you were sick you needed a doctor, didn't you?"
+
+"I wasn't very sick, I just couldn't travel, that was all."
+
+"But why did he have to leave you?"
+
+"He had business at his place."
+
+"Business? There was no one there but himself."
+
+The woman merely shrugged.
+
+Major Egerton waved his hand in Clare's direction. "Do you know this
+lady?"
+
+"Yes, sir. It's Doctor Imbrie's wife."
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"I saw them married."
+
+"Where was that?"
+
+"I won't answer that at present."
+
+The Major turned to Clare apologetically. "Please excuse me if I must
+ask a painful question or two."
+
+Clare nodded reassuringly.
+
+"Why had Doctor Imbrie left his wife?"
+
+The woman's eyes sparkled with resentment. "He didn't leave her. She
+left him. She----"
+
+"That will do!" ordered the Major.
+
+But the woman raised her voice. "She threw up the fact of his having red
+blood to him--though she knew it well enough when she married him. He
+was all cut up about it. That was why he came up here."
+
+The Major, slightly embarrassed, turned to Stonor. "Will you question
+her?" he asked testily. "You are better informed as to the whole
+circumstances."
+
+"If I might hear the man's story first, sir?"
+
+"Very well. Send for him. What is the charge against the woman?"
+
+"Shooting with intent to kill, sir."
+
+"Enter that, Coulter. Whom did she shoot at?"
+
+"At me, sir. On two occasions."
+
+"Ah! An officer in the performance of his duty. Amend the charge,
+Coulter. Please relate the circumstances."
+
+Stonor did so.
+
+"Have you anything to say in regard to that?" the Major asked the woman.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+By this time Imbrie was again facing the tribunal. At Stonor's request
+the woman was allowed to remain in the tent during his examination.
+After stating the usual formula as to his rights, the Major started
+questioning him.
+
+"Your name?"
+
+"Ernest Imbrie, M.D."
+
+"Age?"
+
+"Twenty-six."
+
+"Place of birth?"
+
+"Winnipeg."
+
+"Father's name?"
+
+"John Imbrie."
+
+"His occupation?"
+
+"Farmer."
+
+The Major raised his eyebrows. "In Winnipeg?"
+
+"He lived off the income of his farms."
+
+"Ah! Strange I never heard the name in Winnipeg. Do you wish to give any
+further information about your antecedents?"
+
+"Not at present, sir."
+
+"You have Indian blood in your veins?"
+
+"Yes, sir, my grandmother was an Indian. I never saw her."
+
+"How long have you been in this district?"
+
+"A year, sir."
+
+"How did you come here?"
+
+"I got employment with a crew of boatmen at Miwasa Landing. I travelled
+with them as far as Great Buffalo Lake. There I bought a canoe from the
+Indians and came up the Swan River to the Great Falls and built me a
+shack."
+
+"You were alone then?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How did this woman come to join you?"
+
+"I sent for her to keep my house for me."
+
+"How did you get word to her?"
+
+Imbrie blandly evaded the trap. "I sent a letter out privately to be
+passed along by the Indians--what they call moccasin telegraph."
+
+"Ah! Why did you choose that method?"
+
+"Because I wished to keep my affairs to myself. I had heard of the
+curiosity of the white men at Fort Enterprise concerning my movements,
+and I did not care to gratify it."
+
+"Very well. Now, when you started back with her, did she go home with
+you?"
+
+"No, sir. She was taken sick at Swan Lake, and I had to leave her
+there."
+
+"How did you come to leave her if she was sick?"
+
+"She was not very sick. Her leg swelled up and she couldn't travel, that
+was all."
+
+Stonor signed to the Major that he wished to ask a question, and the
+Major bade him go ahead.
+
+"Tell us exactly what was the matter with her, as a doctor, I mean."
+
+"You wouldn't understand if I did tell you."
+
+The Major rapped smartly on the table. "Impudence will do you no good,
+my man! Answer the Sergeant's question!"
+
+"I decline to do so."
+
+Stonor said: "I have established the point I wished to make, sir. He
+can't answer it."
+
+Major Egerton proceeded: "Well, why didn't you wait for her until she
+got well?"
+
+"I had to make a garden at home."
+
+"You travelled three hundred miles down the river and back again to make
+a garden!"
+
+"We have to eat through the winter."
+
+"Stonor, was there a garden started at Imbrie's place?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but it had been started weeks before. The potatoes were
+already several inches high."
+
+Imbrie said: "I planted the potatoes before I left."
+
+"Well, leave the garden for the present." The Major indicated Clare.
+"You know this lady?"
+
+"I should hope so."
+
+"Confine your answers to plain statements, please. Who is she?"
+
+"My wife."
+
+"Have you any proof of that?"
+
+"She says so. She ought to know."
+
+The Major addressed Clare. "Is it true that you have said you were his
+wife?"
+
+"I cannot tell you of my own knowledge, sir. Sergeant Stonor has told me
+that before I lost my memory I told him I was Ernest Imbrie's wife."
+
+The Major bowed and returned his attention to Imbrie. "When and where
+were you married?"
+
+"I decline to answer."
+
+The excellent Major, who was not noted for his patience with the
+evil-doer, turned an alarming colour, yet he still sought to reason with
+the man. "The answer to that question could not possibly injure you
+under any circumstances."
+
+"Just the same, I decline to answer. You said it was my right."
+
+With no little difficulty the Major still held himself in. "I am
+asking," he said, "for information which will enable me to return this
+lady to her friends until her memory is restored."
+
+"I decline to give it," said Imbrie hardily. His face expressed a
+pleased vanity in being able, as he thought, to wield the whip-hand over
+the red-coats.
+
+The little Major exploded. "You damned scoundrel!" he cried. "I'd like
+to wring your neck!"
+
+"Put that down, please," Imbrie said to the clerk with ineffable
+conceit.
+
+The Major put his hands behind his back and stamped up and down the four
+paces that comprised the length of his tent. "Stonor, I wonder--I wonder
+that you took the patience to bring him to last night!" he stammered.
+"Go on and question him if you want. I haven't the patience."
+
+"Very well, sir. Imbrie, when I was taking you and this lady back to
+Fort Enterprise, why did you carry her off?"
+
+"She was my wife. I wanted her. Anything strange in that?"
+
+"No. But when we came to you at your place, why did you run away from
+us?"
+
+"I hadn't had a good look at her then. I thought it best to keep out of
+the way."
+
+"Why weren't you willing to come to the post and let the whole thing be
+explained?"
+
+Imbrie's face suddenly turned dark with rage. He burst out, scarcely
+coherently: "I'll tell you that! And you can all digest it! A fat chance
+I'd have had among you! A fat chance I have now of getting a fair
+hearing! If she came all this way to find me, it's clear she wanted to
+make up, isn't it? Yet when she saw me, she turned away. She'd been
+travelling with you too long. You'd put your spell on her. You said
+she'd lost her memory. Bunk! Looks more like hypnotism to me. You wanted
+her for yourself. That's the whole explanation of this case. You've got
+nothing on me. You only want to railroad me so that the way will be
+clear for you with her. Why, when I was bound up they made love to each
+other before my very face. Isn't that true?"
+
+"I am not under examination just now," said Stonor coldly.
+
+"Answer me as a man, isn't it true?"
+
+"No, it's a damned lie!"
+
+"Well, if it had been me, I would!" cried the little Major.
+
+Sergeant Lambert concealed a large smile behind his large hand.
+
+Stonor, outwardly unmoved, said: "May I ask the woman one more question,
+sir, before I lay a charge against the man?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+Stonor addressed the woman. "You say you are unmarried?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What are you doing with a wedding-ring?"
+
+"It's my mother's ring. She gave it to me when she died."
+
+"Tole," said Stonor, "take that ring off and hand it to me." To the
+Major he added in explanation: "Wedding-rings usually have the initials
+of the contracting parties and the date."
+
+"Of course!"
+
+The ring was removed and handed to Stonor.
+
+Examining it he said: "There is an inscription here, sir. It is: 'J.I.
+to A.A., March 3rd, 1886.' It stands to reason this woman's mother was
+married long before 1886."
+
+"She was married twice," muttered the woman.
+
+Stonor laughed.
+
+"What do you make of it, Sergeant?" asked the Major.
+
+"John Imbrie to Annie Alexander."
+
+"Then you suspect----?"
+
+"That this woman is the man's mother, sir. It first occurred to me last
+night."
+
+"By George! there is a certain likeness."
+
+All those in the tent stared at the two prisoners in astonishment. The
+couple bore it with sullen inscrutability.
+
+"I am now ready to make a charge against the man, sir."
+
+The Major sat down. "What is the charge?"
+
+"Murder."
+
+Imbrie must have had this possibility in mind, for his face never
+changed a muscle. The woman, however, was frankly taken by surprise. She
+flung up her manacled hands involuntarily; a sharp cry escaped her.
+
+"It's a lie!"
+
+"Whom did he murder?"
+
+"A man unknown to me, sir."
+
+"Where was the deed committed?"
+
+"At or near the shack above the Great Falls."
+
+The woman's inscrutability was gone. She watched Stonor and waited for
+his evidence in an agony of apprehension.
+
+"Did you find the body?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Under what circumstances?"
+
+"It had been thrown in the rapids, sir, in the expectation that it would
+be carried over the falls. Instead, however, it lodged in a log-jam
+above the falls. As I was walking along the shore I saw a foot sticking
+out of the water. I brought the body ashore----"
+
+"You brought the body ashore--out of the rapids above the falls----?"
+
+"Yes, sir. A woman I had with me, Mary Moosa, helped me."
+
+"Describe the victim."
+
+"A young man, sir, that is to say, under thirty. In stature about the
+same as the prisoner, and of the same complexion. What remained of his
+clothes suggested a man of refinement."
+
+"But his face?"
+
+"It was unrecognizable, sir."
+
+A dreadful low cry broke from the half-breed woman. Her manacled hands
+went to her face, her body rocked forward from the waist.
+
+The man rapped out a command to her in the Indian tongue to get a grip
+on herself. She tried to obey, straightening up, and taking down her
+hands. Her face showed a ghastly yellow pallor.
+
+"What proof have you of murder?" asked the Major.
+
+"There was no water in the dead man's lungs, sir, showing that he was
+dead before his body entered the water. There was a bullet-hole through
+his heart. I found the bullet itself lodged in the front of his spine.
+It was thirty-eight calibre, a revolver bullet. This man carried a
+thirty-eight revolver. I took it from him. I sent revolver and bullet
+out by Tole Grampierre."
+
+Lambert spoke up: "They are in my possession, sir."
+
+The breed woman seemed about to collapse. Imbrie, who had given no sign
+of being affected by Stonor's recital, now said with a more conciliatory
+air than he had yet shown:
+
+"If you please, sir, she is overcome by the trooper's horrible story.
+Will you let her go outside for a moment to recover herself?"
+
+"Very well," said the good-natured Major, "watch her, Lambert."
+
+As the woman passed him Imbrie whispered to her in the Indian tongue:
+"Throw your locket in the river."
+
+Stonor, on the alert for a trick of some kind, overheard. "No, you
+don't!" he said, stepping forward.
+
+The woman made a sudden dive for the door, but Lambert seized her. She
+struggled like a mad thing, but the tall sergeant's arms closed around
+her like a vice. Meanwhile Stonor essayed to unclasp the chain around
+her neck. The two breeds guarded Imbrie to keep him from interfering.
+
+Stonor got the locket off at last, and opened it with his thumb nail.
+The woman suddenly ceased to struggle, and sagged in Lambert's arms. An
+exclamation escaped from Stonor, and he glanced sharply into Imbrie's
+face. Within the locket on one side was a tinted photograph of the heads
+of two little boys, oddly alike. On the other side was an inscription in
+the neat Spencerian characters of twenty years before: "Ernest and
+William Imbrie,"--and a date.
+
+Stonor handed the locket over to the Major without speaking. "Ha!" cried
+the latter. "So that is the explanation. There were two of them!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+A LETTER FROM MAJOR EGERTON TO HIS FRIEND ARTHUR DONCOURT, ESQ.
+
+
+MY DEAR DONCOURT:
+
+You ask me to tell you some of the circumstances underlying the Imbrie
+murder case of which you have read the account in the annual report of
+the R.N.W.M.P. just published. You are right in supposing that a strange
+and moving tale is hidden behind the cold and formal phraseology of the
+report.
+
+The first Imbrie was the Reverend Ernest, who went as a missionary to
+the Sikannis Indians away back in '79. Up to that time these Indians
+were absolutely uncivilized, and bore a reputation for savage cruelty. I
+suppose that was what stimulated the good man's zeal. He left a saintly
+tradition behind him. The Sikannis live away up the corner of British
+Columbia, on the head-waters of the Stanley River, one of the main
+branches of the Spirit River. The Spirit River, as you may know, rises
+west of the Rocky Mountains and breaks through. There is not a more
+remote spot this side the Arctic Circle, nor one more difficult of
+access.
+
+The missionary brought with him his son, John Imbrie, a boy just
+approaching manhood. Very likely the danger of bringing up a boy
+absolutely cut off from the women of his race never occurred to the
+father. The inevitable happened. The boy fell in love with a handsome
+half-breed girl, the daughter of a wandering prospector and a Sikanni
+squaw, and married her out of hand. The heartbroken father was himself
+compelled to perform the ceremony. This was in 1886.
+
+The Imbries were so far cut off from their kind that in time they were
+forgotten. The missionary supported himself by farming in a small way
+and trading his surplus products with the Indians. John turned out to be
+a good farmer and they prospered. Their farm was the last outpost of
+agriculture in that direction. From the time he went in with his father
+John did not see the outside world again until 1889, when he took his
+wife and babies out, with a vain hope, I think, of trying to educate the
+woman. Most of these marriages have tragic results, and this was no
+exception. During all the years in her husband's house this woman
+resisted every civilizing influence, except that she learned to deck
+herself out like a white woman.
+
+She bore her husband twin sons, who were christened Ernest and William.
+They bore a strong resemblance to each other, but as they began to
+develop it appeared, as is so often the case in these mixed families,
+that Ernest had a white man's nature, and William a red man's. When the
+time came they were sent out to Winnipeg to school, but William, true to
+the savage nature, sickened in civilised surroundings, and had to be
+sent home. On the other hand, Ernest proved to be a sufficiently apt
+scholar, and went on through school and college. During the whole period
+between his thirteenth and his twenty-fourth year he was only home two
+or three times. William remained at home and grew up in ignorance. John
+Imbrie, the father, I gather, was a worthy man, but somewhat weak in his
+family relations.
+
+Ernest went on to a medical college with the idea of practising among
+the Sikannis, who had no doctor. During his second year his father died,
+long before he could reach him, of course. He remained outside until he
+got his diploma. Meanwhile his mother and brother quickly relapsed into
+a state of savagery. They "pitched around" with the Indians, and the
+farm which had been so painstakingly hewn out of the wilderness by the
+two preceding generations grew up in weeds.
+
+Ernest had a painful homecoming, I expect. However, he patiently set to
+work to restore his father's work. He managed to persuade his mother and
+brother to return and live in white man's fashion, but they made his
+life a hell for him, according to all accounts. They were insanely
+jealous of his superior attainments. Neither did the Sikannis welcome
+Doctor Ernest's ministrations. Since the death of the missionary they
+had been gradually slipping back into their ignorant ways, and now they
+instinctively took the part of the mother against the educated son. One
+can imagine what a dreary life the young medico lived among these
+savages. He has been described to me as a charming fellow, modest,
+kindly and plucky. And, by the way, I have not mentioned that these
+young fellows were uncommonly good-looking. William, or, as the Indians
+say, Hooliam, was one of the handsomest natives I ever saw.
+
+Meanwhile that remote country was being talked about outside on account
+of the gold deposits along the upper reaches of the Stanley--largely
+mythically I believe. However that may be, prospectors began to straggle
+in, and in the summer of the year following Ernest's return from
+college, the government sent in a surveyor, one Frank Starling, to
+survey the claims, and adjust disputes. Starling brought with him his
+daughter Clare, a young lady of adventurous disposition.
+
+Both the Imbrie boys fell in love with her according to their natures,
+thus further complicating the situation. Hooliam, the ignorant savage,
+could not aspire to her hand, of course, but the young doctor courted
+her, and she looked kindly on him. I do not consider that she was ever
+in love with him, though apart from the dark strain he was worthy of it
+as men go, a manly fellow!--but it was the hardness of his lot that
+touched her heart. Like many a good woman before her, she was carried
+away by compassion for the dogged youth struggling against such hopeless
+odds.
+
+The father completed his work and took her out, and Ernest Imbrie
+followed them. They were married in the early spring at Fort Edward on
+the Campbell River, where the Starlings wintered. Ernest carried his
+bride back by canoe, hundreds of miles through the wilderness.
+
+Their happiness, if indeed they were ever happy, was of brief duration.
+Whichever way you look at it, the situation was impossible. Ernest's
+mother, the breed woman, acted like a fiend incarnate, I have been told,
+and I can quite believe it, having witnessed some of her subsequent
+performances. Then there was the brother-in-law always hanging around
+the house, nursing his evil passion for his brother's wife. And in the
+background the ignorant, unfriendly Indians.
+
+The catastrophe was precipitated by a gross insult offered to the girl
+by her husband's brother. He broke into her room one night impudently
+assuming to masquerade as her husband. Her husband saved her from him,
+but in the shock to her nerves she experienced a revulsion against the
+lot of them--and small wonder!
+
+Her husband of his own free will took her back to her father. That's one
+of the finest things in the story, for there's no question but that he
+loved her desperately. The loss of her broke his spirit, which had
+endured so much. He never went back home. He felt, poor fellow, as if he
+were cast out alike by reds and whites, and his instinct was to find a
+place where he could bury himself far from all humankind.
+
+He was next heard of at Miwasa landing a thousand miles away, across
+the mountains. Here he got employment with a york boat crew and
+travelled with them down-stream some hundreds of miles north to Great
+Buffalo Lake. Here he obtained a canoe from the Indians, and, with a
+small store of grub, set off on his own. He made his way up the Swan
+River, an unexplored stream emptying into Great Buffalo Lake, as far as
+the Great Falls, and there he built himself a shack.
+
+He could hardly have found a spot better suited to his purpose. No white
+man so far as known had ever visited those falls, and even the Indians
+avoid the neighbourhood for superstitious reasons. But even here he
+could not quite cut himself off from his kind. An epidemic of measles
+broke out among the Kakisa Indians up the river from him, and out of
+pure humanity he went among them and cured them. These Indians were
+grateful, strange to say; they almost deified the white man who had
+appeared so strangely in their country.
+
+Meanwhile the wrong she had done him began to prey on his wife's mind.
+She could not rest under the thought that she had wrecked his
+usefulness. Ernest Imbrie had, with the idea of keeping his mind from
+rusting out in solitude, ordered certain papers and books sent to him at
+Fort Enterprise. His wife learned of this address through his medical
+college, and in the spring of the year following her marriage, that is
+to say the spring of the year just past, she set off in search of him
+without saying anything to anybody of her intention.
+
+She and her father were still at Fort Edward--have I said that the girl
+had no mother?--and Hooliam Imbrie had been there, too, during the
+winter, not daring to approach the girl precisely, but just hanging
+around the neighbourhood. One can't help feeling for the poor wretch,
+bad as he was, he was hard-hit, too. He bribed a native servant to show
+him the letter giving his brother's address, and when the girl set off,
+he instantly guessed her errand, and determined to prevent their
+meeting.
+
+Now it is only a short distance from Fort Edward over the height of land
+to the source of the main southerly branch of the Spirit, and Hooliam
+was therefore able to proceed direct to Fort Enterprise by canoe (a
+journey of more than a thousand miles), pausing only to go up the
+Stanley to pick up his mother, who was ripe for such an adventure. At
+Carcajou Point, when they had almost reached Enterprise, they heard the
+legend of the White Medicine Man off on the unknown Swan River, and they
+decided to avoid Enterprise and hit straight across the prairie.
+
+Meanwhile the girl was obliged to make a long detour south to the
+railway, then across the mountains and north again by all sorts of
+conveyances, with many delays. So Hooliam and his mother arrived a few
+weeks before her, but they in turn were delayed at Swan Lake by the
+woman's illness.
+
+You have read a transcript of the statements of this precious pair at
+the hearing before me. Read it again, and observe the ingenious web of
+truth and falsehood. For instance, it was true the woman fell sick at
+Swan Lake, and Hooliam after waiting awhile for her, finally went down
+the river without her--only a few days in advance of Sergeant Stonor and
+Ernest Imbrie's wife. As soon as Hooliam reached Swan Lake he began to
+meet Indians who had seen his brother, and thereafter he was always
+hailed among them as the White Medicine Man. The Indians never troubled
+to explain to themselves how he had got to Swan Lake, because they
+ascribed magical powers to him anyway.
+
+What happened between the brothers when they met will never be known for
+certain. Hooliam swears that he did not intend to kill Ernest, but that
+the deed was done in self-defence during a quarrel. However that may
+be, Ernest was shot through the heart with a bullet from Hooliam's gun,
+and his body cast in the river.
+
+You have read the rest of the story; how Stonor arrived with Ernest's
+wife, and how, at the shock of beholding her husband's body, the poor
+girl lost her memory. How Hooliam sought to escape up-stream, and
+Stonor's confusion when he was told by an Indian that the White Medicine
+Man was still alive. How Hooliam kidnapped the girl from Stonor, and
+tried to win back to the mountains and his own country by way of the
+unexplored river.
+
+We established the fact that Hooliam did not tell his mother what had
+happened at the Great Falls. She thought that Hooliam had found Ernest
+gone still further north. You can see at the hearing how when Stonor
+first told of the murder, in her horror at the discovery that one
+brother had killed the other the truth finally came out. Though she had
+always taken Hooliam's part she could not altogether deny her feeling
+for the other son.
+
+Well, that's about all. I consider that they got off easily; Hooliam
+with twenty years, and the woman with half that sentence; but in the
+man's case it was impossible to prove that the murder was a deliberate
+one, and though the woman certainly did her best to put Stonor out of
+the way, as it happened he escaped.
+
+You ask about the Indian woman, Mary Moosa, who served Stonor and Mrs.
+Imbrie so faithfully. We overtook her at Swan Lake on the way out. So
+she did not starve to death on the river, but recovered from her wound.
+
+When we got out as far as Caribou Lake we met Mrs. Imbrie's distracted
+father coming in search of her. The meeting between them was very
+affecting. I am happy to say that the young lady has since recovered
+her memory entirely, and at the last account was very well.
+
+You are curious to know what kind of fellow Stonor is. I can only
+answer, an ornament to the service. Simple, manly and dependable as a
+trooper ought to be. With a splendid strong body and a good wit. Out of
+such as he the glorious tradition of our force was built. They are
+becoming more difficult to get, I am sorry to say. I had long had my eye
+on him, and this affair settled it. I have recommended him for a
+commission. He is a man of good birth and education. Moreover I saw that
+if we didn't commission him we'd lose him; for he wants to get married.
+As a result of the terrible trials they faced together he and Ernest
+Imbrie's widow have conceived a deep affection for each other. Enlisted
+men are not allowed to marry. They make a fine pair, Doncourt. It makes
+an old fellow sort of happy and weepy to see them together.
+
+Stonor is now at the Officers' School at General Headquarters, and if he
+passes his examinations will be commissioned in the summer.
+
+We'll talk further about this interesting case when good fortune brings
+us together again. In the meantime, my dear Doncourt,
+
+                    Yours faithfully,
+                              FRANK EGERTON.
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+
+In a bare and spotless company-room in headquarters in Regina eight
+uneasy troopers in fatigue uniform were waiting. Down one side of the
+room a row of tall windows looked out on the brown parade-ground, and
+beyond the buildings on the other side they could see a long
+Transcontinental train slowly gathering way up the westward grade.
+
+"Hey, boys!" cried one. "How'd you like to be aboard her with your
+shoulder-straps and spurs?"
+
+They cast unfriendly glances at the speaker and snorted.
+
+"Don't try to be an ass, Carter," said one. "It doesn't require the
+effort."
+
+They evinced their nervousness in characteristic ways. Several were
+polishing bits of brass already dazzling; one sat voraciously chewing
+gum and staring into vacancy; one paced up and down like a caged animal;
+another tried to pick a quarrel with his mates, and the eighth, Sergeant
+Stonor--the hero of Swan River they called him when they wished to annoy
+him--sat in a corner writing a letter.
+
+To the eight entered a hardened sergeant-major, purpled-jowled and
+soldierly. All eight pairs of eyes sprang to his face in a kind of agony
+of suspense. He twirled his moustache and a wicked, dancing light
+appeared in his little blue eyes.
+
+"You're a nice set of duffers!" he rasped. "Blockheads all eight of you.
+Why they ever sent you down beats me. I've seen some rum lots, but never
+your equal. Flunked, every man of you!"
+
+The eight pairs of eyes were cast down. Nobody said anything. Each was
+thinking: "So that dream is over. I mustn't let anything on before the
+others": those who were polishing brass gave an extra twirl to the
+chamois.
+
+Stonor, suddenly suspicious, narrowly searched the sergeant-major's
+face. "Fellows, he's joshing!" he cried. "It isn't possible that every
+one of us has flunked! It isn't reasonable!"
+
+The sergeant-major roared with laughter. "Wonderful penetration,
+Sherlock! When I saw your faces I couldn't help it. You were asking for
+it. All passed! That's straight. Congrats!" He passed on down the
+corridor.
+
+There was a silence in the company-room. They looked shyly at each other
+to see how the news was being taken. Each felt a sudden warmth of heart
+towards all his mates. All of them displayed an elaborate and perfectly
+transparent assumption of indifference. Stonor added a postscript to his
+letter, and sedately folded it.
+
+Then speech came, at first softly. "Damn old Huggins, anyway. Almost
+gave me heart-failure!... Wot t'hell, Bill! Poor old Hugs, it was his
+last chance. Sure, we'll have him where we want him now.... Think of
+being able to call Hugs down!... Lordy, Lordy, am I awake!"
+
+Suddenly the unnatural tension broke, and a long-limbed trooper jumped
+to his feet with his arms in the air. "Boys! Are you dumb! We've passed!
+We've got the straps! All together now, Mumbo-Jumbo!"
+
+They marched around the room with their hands on each other's shoulders,
+singing:
+
+    "For I've got rings on my fingers
+     And bells on my toes;
+     Elephants to ride upon----"
+
+In a little house in Vancouver, embowered in such greenery as only the
+mild, moist airs of Puget Sound can produce, a young woman sat in her
+drawing-room regarding a letter she had just read with a highly
+dissatisfied air. It was a pretty little room, not rich nor fussy, but
+expressing the charm of an individual woman no less than the clothes she
+wore.
+
+To the mistress entered the maid, to wit, a matronly Indian woman with
+an intelligent face. She looked from her mistress' face to the letter,
+and back to her mistress again. When the latter made no offer to speak
+she said, for she was a privileged person:
+
+"You hear from Stonor?"
+
+Clare nodded.
+
+"He not pass his 'xamination, I guess?"
+
+"Certainly he has passed!" said Clare sharply. "If anybody can pass
+their examinations he can."
+
+"Why you look so sorry then?"
+
+"Oh--nothing. I didn't expect him to write it. A five-word postscript at
+the end of a matter-of-fact letter."
+
+"Maybe he couldn't get leave."
+
+"He said he'd get leave if he passed."
+
+"Maybe he comin' anyhow."
+
+"He never says a word about coming."
+
+"You ask him to come?"
+
+"Of course not!"
+
+"Don't you want him come?"
+
+"I don't know whether I do or not."
+
+Mary looked perplexed.
+
+Clare burst out, "I can't ask him. He'd feel obliged to come. A man--man
+like that anyway, would feel after what we've been through together that
+I had a claim on him. Well, I don't want him to come out of a sense of
+duty. Don't you understand?"
+
+Mary shook her head. "If I want something I ask for it."
+
+"It's not so simple as all that!"
+
+"Maybe he think he not wanted here."
+
+"A man's supposed to take that chance."
+
+"Awful long way to come on a chance," said Mary. "Maybe I write to him."
+
+Clare jumped up. "Don't you dare!" she cried. "If I thought for a
+moment--if I thought he had been _brought_, I should be perfectly
+hateful to him. I couldn't help myself--Is that a motor at the gate?"
+
+"Yes, Miss, a taxi-cab."
+
+"Stopping here?"
+
+"Yes, Miss,"--with absolute calm: "Stonor is gettin' out."
+
+"What!--Oh, Mary!--It can't be!--It is!"
+
+A bell rang.
+
+"Oh, Mary! What shall I do? Don't go to the door! Let him wait a minute.
+Let me think what I must do. Let me get upstairs!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stonor got up and sat down, and got up again. He walked to the window
+and back to the door. He listened for sounds in the house, and then went
+back to his chair again. He heard a sound overhead and sprang to the
+door once more. He saw her on the stairs, and retreated back into the
+room. She came down with maddening deliberation, step by step. She did
+not look through the door, but paused a second to straighten a picture
+that hung askew on the wall. Stonor's heart was beating like a
+trip-hammer.
+
+She came into the room smiling in friendly fashion with a little gush of
+speech--but her eyes did not quite meet his.
+
+"Well, Martin! Congratulations! I just got your letter this morning. I
+didn't expect you to follow so soon. So it's Inspector Stonor now, eh?
+Very becoming uniform, sir! Was the examination difficult? You must tell
+me all about it. I suppose you are just off the train. What kind of a
+trip did you have? Sit down."
+
+He was a little flabbergasted by her easy flow of speech. "I don't want
+to sit down," he muttered huskily. He was staring at her from a white
+face.
+
+She sat; glanced out of the window, glanced here and there about the
+room, and rattled on: "Haven't we got a jolly little place here? But I
+expect we'll be ordered on directly. Mary and I were talking about you
+the moment you rang the bell. Mary is so good to me, but her heart is
+already turning to Fort Enterprise and her children, I'm afraid."
+
+He found his tongue at last. "Clare, don't!" he cried brokenly. "I
+didn't come eight hundred miles to hear you make parlour conversation.
+What's the matter? What have I done? If you've changed towards me tell
+me so plainly, and let me get out. I can't stand this!"
+
+Panic seized her. "I must see about lunch. Excuse me just a moment," she
+said, making for the door.
+
+He caught her as she tried to pass. "Damn lunch! Look me in the eye,
+woman!"
+
+She relaxed. Her eyes crept imploringly up to his. "Bear!" she
+whispered. "You might at least have given me a moment's respite!--Oh, I
+love you! I love you! I love you!"
+
+                    THE END
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following changes have been made from the
+original text:
+
+  Pg. 27:  heart-strings --> heartstrings
+           (... plucked at his heartstrings with a ...)
+  Pg. 44:  strain ... --> strain....
+           (I've been under a strain....)
+  Pg. 54:  bambye --> bam-bye
+           (... but bam-bye he rise up again ...)
+  Pg. 85:  storeroom --> store-room
+           (... a work-room and store-room.)
+  Pg. 85:  Snow-shoes --> Snowshoes
+           (Snowshoes, roughly-fashioned fur garments ...)
+  Pg. 105: backwater --> back-water
+           (... out of the back-water alongshore ...)
+  Pg. 105: along-shore --> alongshore
+           (... out of the back-water alongshore ...)
+  Pg. 133: redskin --> red-skin
+           (Some red-skin mumbo-jumbo.)
+  Pg. 172: horseflesh --> horse-flesh
+           (... horse-flesh, fresh into the bargain.)
+  Pg. 174: singlehanded --> single-handed
+           (... brave him single-handed ...)
+  Pg. 219: get's --> gets
+           (And if she gets a knife ...)
+  Pg. 256: headwaters --> head-waters
+           (... on the head-waters of the Stanley River ...)
+  Pg. 260: downstream --> down-stream
+           (... travelled with them down-stream ...)
+  Pg. 267: hunk --> hung
+           (... picture that hung askew ...)]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Woman from Outside, by Hulbert Footner
+
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