“Ahdeek can not tell Nahma until he takes the trail to Snowbeard’s house.”
“Boy, I will keep the secret. Is Ahdeek afraid to trust his brother?”
“Afraid to trust the brother whose couch he has shared for many moons? No!” cried the half-breed. “But he can not tell now. Old Snowbeard was dear to Ahdeek, and the Chippewas shall feel more than ever now the wildcat’s claws and teeth.”
The youth did not reply, but continued to work at the boat in silence. Above him the harsh thunder rolled, and the stormy waves and rocky shore were vividly revealed by the glare of lightning.
At length, tired of tugging at knots which the spray had rendered openless, the boy, with an ejaculation of impatience, severed the rope, and the twain seated themselves in the boat.
“I’ll paddle, Ahdeek,” said the white youth. “Don’t worry your shoulder with any work till I get it fixed up, in the castle. Those devilish panthers can bite like all get out.”
“Panthers’ teeth sharp,” replied the half-breed, passing a hand lightly over the crunched shoulder; “but shoulder soon be well.”
“Providence willing,” smiled the youth, and a moment later he continued:
“Ahdeek, a ghost has visited Gitche Gumee during your absence.”
An exclamation of surprise followed this startling announcement, and by the lightning the Destroyer saw a pair of eyes staring into his.