The Factor beamed. 'We'll have a good night, liquoring up and poker.'
A short figure appeared on the summit of a black rock in the distance, waving his straw bonnet.
'There's Justin signalling. Hungry, Davey?'
'I'd be a liar if I said no,' replied the Captain.
They turned away together, while Lamont still remained on the wet logs, despite the Factor's cheery invitation for him to join them. For some time he stood motionless, regardless of Nature's appeal for breakfast, troubled, be it said, more by fear for the future than reflection on the past. Indeed, he was only stirred by hostile interruption.
A tall figure glided quickly from the bush behind, and crossed the rock-strewn space. When he saw Lamont he paused, as though he had unexpectedly come upon the object of his search and doubted how to act.
For the young man's growing intimacy with the fair forest queen of the Saskatchewan could not escape the naturally keen eyes of her watchers. The aged Chief but shook his weak head, as he watched the light-hearted girl dancing along the sunshine with laugh and happy song. Antoine, gloomy as was his wont, limped from hut to hut, muttering low-voiced imprecations against all white men, and those around in particular. The youngest and most formidable—Muskwah, leader of the warriors, who looked upon the beautiful girl as his own life prize, yet with that reverential sense of ownership the dreamer might regard some glorious phantasy of his imagination—only awaited opportunity to strike at the pride of his rival; for surely the imperious white could never descend to the poor level of the Indian, nor choose a bride from the tents of the down-trodden race.
So, shadow-like, he had crept behind the young man to the meeting place, where the dry bones of the dead creaked in the night wind. There, with burning eyes and throbbing brain, he had listened to a soft-voiced conversation, yet one in which eyes and hands were more expressive than tongue. He had stolen away with madness at the heart, with wild desire to obtain her who was now slipping beyond reach on the ebb-tide of fate. He would risk his life to obtain its highest desire.
Lamont turned quickly when he heard a guttural exclamation at his side. With his usual contemptuous air he regarded the young Indian, who was unarmed, save for the sheathed hunting knife. 'What do you want?' he muttered angrily.
Then Muskwah raised a hand to point at the boat, rising and falling on the heavy river swell.