Slowly the time crept by, but no sleep came to her eyes. Though her body was weary her brain was active. She found herself wondering as to the meaning of it all. Why was she being thus borne off into the wilderness? Was it for the sake of the child? She felt there was some other motive, and that the Indian woman had some sinister purpose in view. Her lowering face and cruel eyes stood out clear and distinct as she lay there. She thought, too, of Norman. Where was he, and would he know what had happened to her? Had he cast her aside as unworthy of his affection?
The night was still and cool. No sound of life broke the intense silence except the deep breathing of the child close by her side. She longed for something to break the quietness which reigned, which was almost maddening her. Presently a slight noise arrested her attention. It was a light step as of someone approaching. Her heart beat fast, and she strained her eyes in an effort to pierce the gloom. Soon a shadowy form became visible. It drew nearer, and then stopped. Slowly it advanced until it was close by her side, when she recognised the form of Nadu, the Indian woman. Madeline lay perfectly still now, although her heart was thumping so loud that she thought it must be heard yards away. The visitor stood for a few seconds like a statue. Then she stooped down and peered intently into Madeline's face. The latter closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She almost felt Nadu's warm breath, and pictured those eyes glaring like fiery balls. When it seemed that she could stand the strain no longer she heard the woman move away, and when Madeline opened her eyes the intruder was nowhere to be seen. The darkness had swallowed her up, and Madeline almost imagined she had seen a vision. She lay awake for some time after this incident, staring up vacantly at the stars. At length, however, the tired brain ceased to work, and she drifted away for a time from care and fear into the beneficent land of sleep.
And thus they lay, beneath the twinkling lights of heaven, the child and the woman, two fresh fair flowers, rudely snatched from their natural abode, to be tossed to and fro by the wild winds of passion and greed far out into the frontier of a cold, cruel land.
CHAPTER XIX THE VENOM OF HATRED
The banks of the Takan River, at the head of the Kaska Rapids, were lined with tall fir trees and jack pines. It was a sombre place, this, and the regular camping ground where from time immemorial natives had disembarked to portage overland to the big lake below.
Near one of the large trees stood Nadu, the Indian woman, dark, straight and motionless as the numerous boles around her. But, though very still, a new light shone in her eyes—the light of indecision. For weeks past only grim determination had been expressed in those restless orbs. At Hishu, and all the way down the river, no change or softening gleam could be detected. There was nothing but that savage glitter of a beast of the forest ready to spring upon its victim.
But now something was disturbing that fevered brain, some counter attraction was at work, causing those ever-varying expressions. As dark billowy clouds roll and surge threateningly athwart the sky, while occasionally a brief glimpse of the clear blue is seen, so it was across Nadu's face. Now the storm of passion was seen, and again a sudden rift telling of the violence raging within.
Her form was straight and unbending. A shawl covered her head and swept her comely shoulders. Night was symbolised there—black, desolate Night. Occasionally her eyes turned to the spot where Madeline and Donnie were lying. Then the clouds grew dark, and the staring eyes gleamed cruelly fierce. But anon they shifted to the left, and roamed among the silent arches of the shadowy forest. Then the fire died down to a softer glow, suggesting warmth rather than destruction.