Jack frowned. "My stomach rises against him! I can't hide it!"
"It would be better," she said gently.
"You're always right," he grumbled. "I'll try."
Jean Paul and Davy came back and they proceeded. Their pack-animals were but lightly laden, and they rode hard all afternoon with very little speech. Twelve miles from Camp Trangmar they came on the site of the abandoned Indian camp. At this point the Fort Erskine trail, leaving the Spirit River valley, turned northwestward to ascend beside a small tributary, the Darwin River. This stream came down a flat and gently ascending valley, heavily timbered for the most part, and hemmed in by mountains wooded almost to their summits. It was a gloomy way, for they could see but little through the trees. Now and then from a point of vantage they had a glimpse of the magnificent bulk of Mount Darwin blocking the valley at the top.
They spelled once to eat and to rest the horses. Riding on, Mary kept asking Jean Paul how far it was. At length he said: "Two miles."
They rode a little farther, and came to a brook. "Let's us camp here," said Mary suddenly. "I'm tired."
Jack stared and frowned. Mary tired! "It's less than a mile," he began. "We have plenty of time to ride in and see this thing through before dark——" He was stopped by a look from Mary. He was learning to answer quickly to suggestions from that quarter.
"Oh, well, if you're tired," he said hastily.
When he had a chance apart with her he asked: "What's the game?"
"Don't let's be seen talking together," she said swiftly. "It's nothing much, only I think maybe he will steal away to the tepees to-night to tell them what to say to us. If he does I'll follow and listen."