"Listen, Neekewa!"
Her fingers tightened in his hand. For a space he could hear the beating of her heart.
"Twice I have heard it," she whispered then. "Neekewa, you must go!"
"Heard what?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Something—I don't know what. But it tells me there is danger. And I saw danger over the tepee top, and I have heard whisperings of it all about me. It is coming. It is coming slowly and cautiously. It is very near. Hark, Neekewa! Was that not a sound out on the water?"
"I think it was the wing of a duck, Yellow Bird."
"And that!" she cried swiftly, her fingers tightening still more. "That sound—as if wood strikes on wood!"
"The croak of a loon far up the shore, Yellow Bird."
She drew her hand away.