Loseis and Mary-Lou rode hard through the river-meadows and over the gravelly ridges. There was no danger that anyone who followed would be able to pick out the prints of their horses’ hoofs in the confusion of tracks left by the fur train. When they gained the shelter of the wooded country, some six miles from the Post, Loseis pulled up to a walk. It is impossible to think at a gallop. She wished to canvass all the possibilities of the situation again.
She thought: The further they went along the trail before striking across, the harder it would be to get over. Therefore if they intended to come this way they would turn off as soon as possible. They would now be behind me. . . . But I do not know that Gault intends to ride after the fur, though that is the likeliest thing for him to do. How foolish I would look if I dashed ahead to warn Conacher, and then Gault never came. Gault might be planning to steal back to the Post, and seize it. Or he might have some devilish trick in mind that would never occur to me. . . . I will not ride on until I make sure that he is on this trail.
It is impossible to hide with horses alongside a traveled trail. The horses are certain to betray you by whinnying at the approach of other horses. Therefore, Loseis was obliged to ride on four miles further to the Slavi village at the foot of the lake. Here she sent Mary-Lou across the river with instructions to turn the horses out, and to lose herself amongst the Slavis.
Loseis walked back along the wooded trail, looking for a suitable place of concealment. The river ran close alongside. On the river there was a fringe of berry bushes at the base of the trees; but the water sparkled through the interstices of the stems. No room to hide there. The other side was more open; a thick brown carpet of pine needles that smothered all undergrowth. Loseis began to run in feverish impatience. Suppose she was surprised before she could hide herself.
At last in a place where the sun broke through, she came upon a thick clump of the high-bush cranberry on the inshore side of the trail. She walked up and down the trail surveying it from every angle. It would serve! She crept in, careful to leave no tell-tale marks of her passage. She constructed herself a little cave amongst the leaves, that would permit of a certain freedom of movement without betraying her by a rustle. Here she crouched within two yards of the trail.
It was very difficult to compose her impatient blood to wait. The swollen river moved down, whispering and sucking under the bank. Overhead a smooth, smoky-colored whisky-jack fluttered like a shadow from branch to branch, cocking a suspicious eye down at her. Would he betray her? thought Loseis anxiously. However he made up his mind after awhile that she was a fixture, and faded away. In the distance Loseis could hear the children and the dogs of the Slavi village. A dozen times within a quarter hour Loseis looked at her watch; and each time put it to her ear to make sure it had not stopped.
A whole hour passed, and another one on top of that. Loseis was beginning to ask herself if she were not on a fool’s errand. What ought she to do? What ought she to do? Then she heard a sound that caused all uncertainty to vanish: hoof-beats on the hard-packed trail. It was then two o’clock. As the sound drew closer her brow knitted; only one horse; that was not what she had expected; why should they send one man in pursuit of Conacher?
A minute later Etzooah rode by in the trail. He was not hurrying himself at all; his horse was single-footing it gently; and the Indian rode with his near leg thrown over the saddle horn, his body all relaxed and shaking in the untidy native style. Etzooah, unaware of being observed, looked thoroughly well pleased with himself. He hummed a chant under his breath, and from force of habit his beady black eyes watched on every side of him. Sharp as they were they perceived nothing amiss in the clump of high-bush cranberry.
When he had passed, Loseis after making sure that there were no more coming, issued out of her hiding place, and started back for her horse, considering. Her first impulse was to ride after Etzooah, but she dismissed it with a shake of the head. No! No personal danger threatened Conacher from Etzooah’s coming. This was just part of some tricky game that Gault was playing. Etzooah might safely be left to Conacher to handle. She must find out what Gault was about. There lay the real danger.
Obtaining her horse, and bidding Mary-Lou to remain where she was, Loseis rode back towards the post. Having ridden about two miles, an intuition warned her to dismount and lead her horse, that she might not give undue warning of her passage. Shortly afterwards the mare suddenly threw up her head and whickered. A moment later Loseis heard more hoof-beats; several horses this time, pounding in a measured way that suggested they were being ridden by men.