“Risk it!” whispered Conacher. “Speak to her!”
“Mary-Lou,” said Loseis softly; “we are here!”
There was no answer. They apprehended through the dark that the solitary rider had slipped out of the saddle. Running forward they found her half fainting, but clinging to the horses still.
She quickly recovered. Ah! what a joyful reunion that was! Sharers in danger!—there is no other bond quite the same as this. They all babbled at once. Loseis and Mary-Lou clung to each other weeping; Conacher embraced them both indiscriminately.
“I so scare’!” Mary-Lou whispered in Loseis’ ear. “I know the Crees out here somewhere. I t’ink they get you sure. But I got come jus’ the same. When I see you in the trail I t’ink it is the Crees. I am near die then!”
“You’re the bravest of any of us!” whispered Loseis. “Because you know what fear is!”
While the girls whispered Conacher turned his attention to the horses. Mary-Lou had brought the best procurable, and he was well-pleased. She had brought a fair store of smoked meat and fish also, but not enough to see them through, of course.
“Tatateecha t’ink I lyin’ till he see me start,” she explained.
“Let us ride,” said Conacher. “We can talk as we go.”
They mounted. The horses were still fresh and coquettish with the bit. What a delight it was to feel good horseflesh between the knees once more. Their breasts swelled with renewed hope.