The far away expression in the young half-breed’s eyes drew a laugh from Dick.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, “and I want to congratulate you. When do you expect to get married?”
“Four—five—six years,” he answered, counting laboriously on his fingers. “Father Girard he tell ’em me at mission too young yet. No marry till get older. Get older very slow,” he concluded, casting woebegone eyes in the direction of the young lady of his choice.
The re-entrance of Raoul cut short any further reference to the subject of Toma’s tender affair of the heart. It was well, too, for the face of the owner of the huskies wore a look of concern as he strode forward and commenced to remove his outer garments, still thickly encrusted with ice and snow. As he fumbled with the buttons of his moose-hide coat, he broke forth excitedly in Cree, pausing now and again to make quick, explanatory gestures with his hands.
“What’s the trouble?” demanded Dick, who though not understanding one word that had been spoken, could tell from the Indian’s expression that something out of the ordinary had taken place. “What did he say, Toma?”
“He say,” interrupted the guide, “that he no like way huskies act. Huskies tired but no want to lie down and make bed in snowdrift. Huskies afraid of something, very much afraid.”
“That not all,” Toma continued as a relieved expression brightened Dick’s eyes. “Raoul him not sure, but see track mebbe made by snowshoe. Look like snowshoe track only wind blow snow over it. Raoul think Govereau’s men come here tonight and look for us. What you think? Mebbe camped not far away.”
For a brief moment, a look of apprehension, of fear, swept through Dick. The supposition was not entirely impossible. Experience had taught him that Govereau was both an experienced woodsman and an implacable enemy, a man who had the disconcerting habit of putting in an appearance at times when one least expected him. On the other hand, Dick could not help but believe that the hated French half-breed had not yet succeeded in catching up with them. The incident at the river when he, Sandy and Toma had crossed through the ice floe successfully, must have delayed him considerably.
“I don’t think he has had time to overtake us yet,” said Dick. “If any one has been here today, it must be someone else.”
Toma shook his head.