"And she will be the message?"
"Ah, ah."
"The squaw will not fail? If she does not come it will be bad for Klukwan."
"Bah! Owindia is the daughter of Klitonda; she has white blood in her veins. She does not lie. She will be there. Go!"
Re-entering the lodge Owindia sat down upon a bear-skin rug, and gave herself up to thoughts of no enviable nature. She glanced often at her father's immovable figure before her. But no help could she expect from him. She had to bear her burden alone, and even Natsatt could not assist her. To mention her purpose to either her father or her lover would only mean the defeat of her plan. How dark and terrible appeared the future. To leave the land of her birth, to forsake her own people, and never again to look upon the face of the one who had brought such rapturous joy into her young life. She would see Natsatt, no doubt, on the morrow, but that would be the last time, and she must betray nothing of her scheme to him. How she longed for her mother as she crouched there. It seemed that she had grown so old and care-worn of late. She thought of her happy girl-hood days, when she had played by the river, and rested so contentedly at night by her mother's side. Was she thinking of her? She mused, and did she know anything about her child's troubles?
Thus through the long hours she sat and thought, starting at the slightest noise, thinking that the Chilcats were upon them. Toward morning she laid her weary head upon a pillow of furs, and tired out, slept. It was late when she awoke. Her father had been long astir, and had their frugal breakfast ready. He was unusually talkative this morning, and more tender, so Owindia thought. He confided to her the plan which had been revolving through his brain during the night.
"Little one," he began, "the Chilcats are near, and will soon be upon us. There is no time to lose. Where are the tokens?"
"Safe, father," Owindia replied, going at once into the lodge, and bringing forth the score of arrows. "But what will you do with them?"
"Carry them to the hills, little one. The hunters, I believe, are fishing at the Great Lake. By travelling fast one should reach the place by night."
"And are you going yourself, father?" Owindia questioned. "Is there not a young hunter in camp who will go? What about Tesla or Atlin? Each is strong, and swift as the wild goose."