Involuntarily he moved closer. What was this inner urge? Love—feeling—emotion, or, it might be, passion?
Laughter and voices came from the trail above. Douglas with several of the visiting party emerged into the white light of the moon. Douglas called his sister’s name and Janet and Donald moved up the hill to join them.
After the sound of their footsteps died in the distance there was a rustle in the bushes near the path as a slender, childish figure, clad in blue overalls and cotton shirt, glided into the soft moonlight. She stood leaning forward with the grace of some wild thing, her heavy hair flowing about her shoulders. The big blue eyes that usually were filled with light and happiness were now dark with passion, and two small brown fists were pressed against a wildly-heaving breast. Tears welled from the blue eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks. Her breath came in gasps.
“I hate you! Oh, how I hate you!” She stamped her tiny moccasined foot passionately, then turned and ran blindly along the dark forest trail.
An owl flew like a ghostly wraith to a thick growth of firs. The startled cheep of a flying-squirrel turned to a cry of terror, quickly silenced by the powerful beak of the owl as it made its kill. A song-sparrow, with her downy brood cuddled to her warm breast, heard the death-cry, and her eyes grew round with terror.
A mallard duck, sleeping quietly on the lake, emitted a terrified quack as it was drawn below the surface. A moment later the water was disturbed as a mink arose, with its sharp teeth fastened in the duck’s throat, and moved through widening ripples toward the land.
The quick “plop” of a startled muskrat sounded sharply on the night air as the Breed rose slowly from a spot not far from where Connie had lain in hiding. He stood with arms folded, the stolid look of the Indian on his face, and stared toward the spot where Connie had disappeared. A look of ineffable sadness was in his sombre eyes. Thus he stood as immovable as a statue for an interval. Then a long-drawn sigh escaped him. “She loves him,” he said in a dead voice.
He walked to the shore, his distorted limb causing him to sway grotesquely in the moonlight. He drew a skilfully concealed dugout from the bushes and launched it gently. His paddle spurned the water noiselessly, and in a moment he was lost in a bright patch of reflected moonlight.
CHAPTER XIV
A week before Dominion Day men began applying for leave of absence until the exodus depleted the crew to such an extent that it was deemed advisable to shut down for a week. Donald turned to Gillis as he saw the whole crew of “redshirts” pile tumultuously on the train.