Like the great majority of the denizens of the wilderness, Maigan could be a steadfast friend or a bitter enemy. He would readily have given his life for the one and torn the other asunder. Not being very far removed from a wolfish ancestry he was necessarily suspicious, intolerant at first of strangers and prepared to use his clean and cutting fangs at the shortest notice. But he was also more cautious than the dog of civilization and less apt to blurt his feelings right out. After his first outburst he appeared to quiet down, growling but a very little, very low, and stood at the girl’s side, watchful and ready for immediate action.
Madge stood on the wooden step that had been cleared of snow, in front of the little door of rough planks. She watched the people coming in Indian file down the path that had been beaten down in the deep snow. For a moment she had thought that they might be bringing help, that miraculously a 224 doctor had been found at once, that these people were friends eager to help, to remove the sick man to Carcajou and thence to some hospital further down the railway line. But such people would have cried out inquiries. They would have come with some shout of greeting. But these newcomers came along without a word until their leader was but a few yards away, when he stopped and looked at the girl during a moment’s silence.
“Where’s Hugo Ennis?” he finally asked, gruffly.
“He is in the shack,” replied the girl, timidly. “He is dreadfully ill and lying on his bunk.”
“What’s the matter with him?”
“He was shot––shot by accident, and now I’m afraid that he is going to die.”
“Well, I’ll go in and see. We’ll all go in. We’re mighty cold after that long ride. Stand aside!”
“I think you might go in,” the girl told him, still blocking the way, “but the others must not. I––I won’t allow him to be disturbed. Don’t––don’t you understand me? I’m telling you that he’s dying. I––I won’t have him disturbed. And––and who are you? You don’t look like a friend of his. What’s your purpose in coming here?”
The first feeling of timidity that had seized her seemed to have left her utterly. There remained to her but an instinct––a will to defend the man, to protect him from unwarranted intrusion, and she spoke with authority. But another of the visitors addressed her.