As she looked her face underwent a marvellous transformation. Terror filled her eyes; wild fear blanched her cheeks; a numbing sensation almost paralysed her body. She could neither speak nor move. She could only look with eyes that never winked upon that horrible face peering in through the partly withdrawn flap. Great glaring greedy eyes gloated over her; they roved around the interior of the lodge, and rested at last upon the sleeping man. To Owindia it seemed an age that the terrible visage confronted her, ere at length it was withdrawn, and the flap dropped back into its place. Then silence reigned, save for the roaring of the wind, the crackling of the fire, and the wild beating of Owindia's heart.
[CHAPTER IV]
WARNING
When Klitonda returned to his lodge he kicked off his snow-shoes, drew back the flap, and entered. He paused abruptly and looked with astonishment into his daughter's face.
"What's wrong, little one?" he demanded.
But Owindia did not reply. She only sat rigid, upright, and wide-eyed, staring straight before her.
"Child, child, what is it?" her father insisted, stepping forward and laying his big right hand upon her shoulder.
The touch aroused her, and brought her somewhat to her senses.
"There, there!" she gasped, pointing with her finger to the deer-skin hanging.