"What do you mean?" replied her father, following the direction of her extended arm.
"Didn't you see it?" she queried. "A face, oh, so terrible, looking in upon me out of the night! You must have seen it, for it disappeared just before you came."
"You must have been mistaken, little one. You have been dreaming. It was the wind, and the movement of the flap."
"No, no! It was a face, with horrible greedy eyes—eyes like the ones which looked at me the night my mother died. I was not mistaken."
Across Klitonda's face swept a dark scowl, and an angry growl escaped his lips. He knew now that Owindia's fear was real. He thought of what he had heard that morning about the Chilcat spies. Quickly he wheeled and left the lodge. He was gone only a short time, when he returned and shook the snow from his body.
"No use," he muttered. "It is too dark to follow the tracks. It is just like the Chilcats to choose such a night as this. We are never safe, little one."
"And you think it was a Chilcat, father? Are you sure now that I was not mistaken; that my eyes did not deceive me?"
"No, child, you were not mistaken. I heard to-day that Chilcat runners are in the land spying us out."
A tremor shook the girl's body as she listened, and drawing close to her father's side she put her hand in his.
"Don't leave me again," she pleaded. "Whenever you go away they come. Let me always go with you, no matter how hard the trail may be. I shall go mad if I have to stay alone after what I have endured to-night."