"Yes! That seems likely," agreed Stane, his heart aflame with wrath at the thought of the possible indignities to which the girl might have been subjected. In silence they travelled up the lake, and after a time reached the place where the moose-hide tepees lifted their shadowy forms against the background of snow and trees. The camp was dark and silent as a place of the dead. For a moment the thought that the whole tribe had moved away, deserting their tents, held Stane's mind; but it was dispelled by the whisper of Jean Bènard.
"Do you stay here with zee dogs, m'sieu, whilst I go drag out Chief George. Have zee rifle ready; an' eef dere is trouble, be prompt at zee shootin'. Vous comprenez?"
"Yes," answered Stane, "if there is trouble I will not hesitate."
He stood with the rifle ready, watching Bènard's progress across the snow. He saw him reach the chief's tepee, and throw open the moose-hide flap, then disappear inside. He waited for what seemed an intolerable time, and once heard a rustle from the nearest tepee, and divined that in spite of the stillness of the camp, quick eyes were watching the doings of his companion and himself. Then he caught a coughing grunt, and out of the tepee which the trapper had entered, emerged two forms, the first bent and shambling, the other that of Jean Bènard. They picked their way, walking close together, between the moose-hide tents, and as they drew near the sledge, Stane saw that the shambling form was that of Chief George, and that he walked with the muzzle of the trapper's pistol in the small of his back.
"We weel go forwards up zee lak' a leetle way, m'sieu, out of arrow-shot. Den Chief George he weel talk or die."
They marched up the lake five hundred yards or more, the camp behind them maintaining the silence of the dead, then Bènard halted.
"Now," he said, "we weel talk!"
Pointing his pistol at the Indian and speaking in the patois of the tribe, he addressed him.
"What means the attack upon my cabin?"
"I know nothing," mumbled the Indian, shaking with fear or cold. "It was Chigmok—my sister's son—who led the young men away."