When the Indian heard the men approaching he threw open his door. Morely shook his head and pointed warningly at Hardy.
He led the officer into the warm candle-lit room.
The fragrant odor of broiling deer steak lay in the air.
“Ha, this feels and smells good,” Hardy exclaimed.
Beckoning to Migisi, Morely left the cabin, the Indian following.
Lowering his voice cautiously, he told the Indian:
“I have brought this man to you. He is snowblind. I found him on the shore trail. But I do not want him to hear my voice. He thinks an Indian found him, for I spoke to him in Cree. Let him think no one is in the cabin save himself and you. Migisi understands?”
The Indian nodded.
“Watch me, how I care for his eyes. When I leave with the rising sun, you continue the treatment until the light again pierces his eyes.
“If he cannot see by the third sun, come to me. Care for him, Migisi. A two-pound tin of tobacco shall reward you.”