"In case," said the familiar voice. "And here is one for the Iroquois, too."
I stared down in bewilderment at the bear-mask. 'Twas so unexpected, yet so obviously what I might have known she would do if the opportunity arose. That clean scorn, that brave honesty of purpose, I had marked in her, were earnest of her determination to dare all for what she believed to be right.
A chorus of yelps like a wolf-pack in full cry split the night behind us. One of the False Faces sprang into our path, and Ta-wan-ne-ars closed with him. The Seneca's knife plunged into his throat, and he collapsed with a strangled scream.
As the pine-trees shrouded us I looked back over my shoulder. The Dancing-Place was covered with a mob of running figures who fell over each other in their drunken frenzy.
XX
THE ARGOSY OF FURS
"To the left," sobbed the voice from the bear's mask.
We turned between the trunks of the pines, the mat of fallen needles springy underfoot. Behind us the fires of the Dancing-Place were a faint radiance in the dusk. Branches crashed; bodies hurtled against each other; a bedlam of shrieks resounded to the skies.
"Let me help you," I panted to our rescuer.
"There will be no need," she answered, running stride for stride beside us.