“Kaween, gushkewau,”[4] answered Nadjii. “Watch!” and once more she pointed to the forest.
[Footnote 4: No indeed, darkness.]
“You will be there?” asked Loïs.
“Ugh,” said the Indian.
“Are they many?” asked Loïs.
Nadjii stooped, picked up a handful of loose gravel, and let it run slowly through her fingers. If it were possible, Loïs’ face grew a shade paler.
“Go now,” she said; “the men on the farm are beginning to stir; they must not see you. You are faithful at least, and I thank you;” and stooping, she kissed the Indian woman.
A flood of light came into the dark face, the glow of a great love surging up in this savage nature.
“The Great Spirit tell Nadjii die for you and him!” she said, in a low voice; and before Loïs could answer she had wrapped the otter skin she wore round her, and darted away, disappearing behind the trees and bushes with an incredible swiftness.
For one second Loïs stood still; then she roused herself. “There is no time to lose. Shall I rouse Marcus or Father Nat?” She came forth out of the shed, and, as she did so, found herself face to face with Marcus.