“Now!” said Conacher briskly, at last.
They adjusted their packs. Under her pack Loseis wore the deflated air pillow fastened between her shoulders by a harness of twine contrived by Conacher. Both Loseis and Conacher felt that this might well be the moment of farewell, but neither spoke of it. It was all expressed in an exchange of looks. Mary-Lou was piteously striving to get her breath. Conacher’s last act before leaving was to throw a pailful of the precious water on the fire, that no reflection of the glow might betray them when the door was opened. The room was filled with hissing steam.
“Wait a moment,” whispered Conacher in the darkness. “They might possibly have heard that sound. Give them time to forget it. . . . Me first, then Loseis, then Mary-Lou. Take hands. Run like hell around the corner of the house. . . . I am opening the door now. . . .”
They ran out and turned, putting every nerve into it. Instantly, the guns across the grass roared out. They heard the twin bullets plug deep into the logs behind them. The guns crashed again. They gained the corner of the house unhurt. Immediately the cry of the coyote was raised not a hundred yards away; almost in their ears it seemed. It was more human than coyote. Their enemies were outside the house. Already they could hear the sound of running feet. Other cries answered the first one: from the hill behind; from the ravine; from the river.
Loseis gave Mary-Lou a gentle push; and the Indian girl disappeared noiselessly into the bush back of the house. Conacher and Loseis took hands and raced down the grassy rise. A voice behind them shouted in English:
“There they go!”
Conacher whispered: “Make first for the creek; then double back towards the willows!”
The surface of the natural meadow was rough, and Conacher went down twice, but was up again like the recoil of a spring. Loseis had the mysterious sure-footedness of an Indian. Behind them they heard their pursuers falling and cursing. Gault’s voice shouted a command in Cree.
“He is telling them to make for the creek,” whispered Loseis.
When they had almost reached the edge of the creek bank, they turned sharply to the right, and headed back obliquely across the flat towards the point where the dug-out was hidden. They slackened their pace that they might not betray their whereabouts by further falls. This maneuver was successful for the moment. They heard their pursuers halt at the creek bank. Gault called to men who were evidently approaching down the bed of the creek.