He ordered Etzooah to take him to his camp, as he wished to search it, and to question his family. The Indian stolidly prepared to obey.
It was at no great distance up-stream. It consisted of three tepees hidden from the river, a Kakisa custom dating from the days when they had warlike enemies. The tepees were occupied by Etzooah’s immediate family, and the households respectively of his brother and his brother-in-law.
The search and the examination revealed but one significant fact, and that corroborated Etzooah’s story. Two days before he had undoubtedly come into camp and had taken meat and fish from their slender store. Exerting the prerogative of the head of the family, he had declined to tell them what he wanted it for, and the women recited the fact to Stonor as a grievance. It was a vastly relieved Etzooah that Stonor left among his relatives. The fear of being carried off among the white men remained with him until he saw the policeman out of sight. Stonor had warned him to say nothing of what had happened down-river.
Stonor rejoined Clare and Mary, and they continued up-stream. Stonor had now to tell Clare what he had learned. She was waiting for it. In her anxious face there was only solicitude for him, no suspicion that the affair concerned herself. He had wished to wait until night, but he saw that he could not travel all day in silence with her. No use beating about the bush either; she was an intelligent being and worthy of hearing the truth.
“Clare,” he began, avoiding her eyes, “you know I told you how I found your husband’s body in the river, but I did not tell you—I merely wished to spare you something horrible—that it was much mutilated by being thrown against the rocks, especially the face.”
She paled. “How did you know then—how did we know that it was he?” she asked, with a catch in her breath.
“You appeared to recognize it. You cried out his name before you fainted. I thought there must be certain marks known to you.”
“Well?”
“It appears we were mistaken. It must have been the body of another man. According to the story the Indian has just told, Imbrie went up the river two days ago. The story is undoubtedly true. There were details he could not have invented.”
There was a silence. When he dared look at her, he saw with relief that she was not so greatly affected as he had feared. She was still thinking of him, Stonor.