lingo at me I can't fathom."

"A Injun la.s.s!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "What's she doin' there, now? An'

where's Bob an' Shad?"

"Yes, a Injun la.s.s," said Ed impatiently, "an' what she's doin' you'll have t' find out. It seems like she's achin' t' tell somethin'. I'm not seein' Bob an' Shad."

"They must be somethin' wrong, Ed. Come down an' help Bill get th'

cargo ash.o.r.e, an' I'll find out what 'tis;" and d.i.c.k hurried up the trail past Ed, to meet Manikawan, for she it was.

She was still standing where Ed had left her, and d.i.c.k asked kindly in Indian:

"What message does the maiden bring to her white brothers?"

"Listen!" she commanded, in a clear, musical voice. "I am Manikawan, the daughter of Sishetakushin, whose lodge is pitched on the sh.o.r.es of the Great Lake, to the north. Yesterday some men of the South visited the lodge of my father."

"Mingens!" exclaimed d.i.c.k.

"They told him," she continued, not heeding the interruption, "that five suns back they had found a lodge built where the big river broadens. The lodge was newly made. It was a white man's lodge, for it was built of trees. The men of the South waited in hiding at the end of the portage that was once used by my people. It is above the place where evil spirits dwell."

"How many of the men of the South were there?" asked d.i.c.k, again interrupting.

"Six," she answered promptly. "While they waited two white men pa.s.sed with a painted canoe and much provisions. Then, while they still waited, the white men returned with the canoe empty.

"They fired their guns at the white men. Then the evil spirits that dwell where the river falls reached up for the canoe and dragged it down to the place of thunder.

"I have come to tell you this, and to ask if White Brother of the Snow and his friend are here. All night and all day have I travelled, for I am afraid for White Brother of the Snow. He has lived in the lodge of Sishetakushin, my father. He is one of my people, and I am afraid for him."

Her rapid speech, her dramatic pose and gestures, and her intensely earnest manner left no doubt in d.i.c.k Blake's mind that she spoke the truth. Neither had he any doubt that she referred to Ungava Bob and Shad Trowbridge as the two white men, for no other white men were in the region, or, he was sure, within several hundred miles of the place, at the time to which she referred.

"No," said he, after a moment's pause, "White Brother of the Snow and his friend are not with us."

"They are not here!" she wailed, lifting her arms in a gesture of despair. "Where is he? Tell me! It was not White Brother of the Snow sent to the torment of evil spirits?"

"I'm afraid, Manikawan, it was. There were no other white men here than White Brother of the Snow and his friend."

Manikawan's hands dropped at her side, and for an instant she stood, a picture of mingled horror and grief. But it was for only an instant.

Then her face grew hard and vengeful, and in low, even tones she said:

"These men of the South killed White Brother of the Snow. They are no longer of my people. They must die."

"They must die," echoed d.i.c.k.

"Come!" she said laconically, reaching for her bow and slinging it on her back.

"No, we will rest to-night, and to-morrow at dawn we will go. Rest to-night and be strong for the chase to-morrow," d.i.c.k counselled, kindly, as she turned toward the portage trail leading around the rapids.

"I cannot rest," she answered. "I go now;" and like a shadow, and as silently, she melted into the darkening forest.

Big d.i.c.k Blake's heart was full of vengeance, as he strode down the trail to rejoin his companions.

"What speech were th' Injun maid tryin' t' get rid of, now?" asked Ed Matheson, pausing in his work of unloading the canoe as d.i.c.k appeared.

"Bob an' Shad's dead!" announced d.i.c.k bluntly.

"Dead! Dead!" echoed Ed and Bill together.

"Aye, dead. Drove over th' falls by Mingen Injuns," continued d.i.c.k.

"Five or six days ago, she's sayin'. They's six o' them Injuns down north o' here, huntin' deer, an' their camp's up th' river somewheres.

I'm not knowin' rightly where, but we'll find un, an' we'll shoot them Injuns just like a pa.s.sel o' wolves. If we don't, they'll sure be layin' for us an' shoot us."

"Be you sure, now, th' lads is dead?" insisted Ed.

"They's no doubtin' it. She tells th' story straight an' clean as a rifle shot;" and d.i.c.k went on to repeat in detail the story he had heard from Manikawan.

"It looks bad, now, whatever," commented Ed. "But they's a chanct they gets a ash.o.r.e. I were caught onct in th' rapids above Muskrat Falls, an' thinks it all up with me--right in th' middle o' th' rapids, too--an'--"

"Ed," broke in d.i.c.k, with vast impatience, "this be no time for yamin'. You knows you never could be gettin' out o' them rapids an'

not goin' over th' falls. An' these rapids is a wonderful sight worse."

"Maybe they be," admitted Ed. "Th' poor lad, now, bein' killed in that way. d.i.c.k," he continued, raising his tall, awkward figure to its full height and placing his hand on d.i.c.k's shoulder, "me an' you's stood by one 'nother for a good many years, an' in all sorts o' hard places, an' if it's fight Injuns with you now, d.i.c.k, it's fight un, an' Bill's with us."

"Aye," said Bill, "that I am."

The boat was unloaded, and with heavy hearts the men prepared and ate their evening meal. Then while they smoked their pipes, light packs were put up and all was made snug for an early start the following morning.

With the first blink of dawn the three determined men, armed with their rifles, swung out into the forest, and rapidly but cautiously filed up the old portage trail in the direction Manikawan had taken.

X

THE VOICES OF THE SPIRITS

Heedless of drizzling rain and snow, of driving wind and gathering darkness, Manikawan ran forward on the trail. Hatred was in her heart.

Vengeance was crying to her. Every subtle, cunning instinct of her savage race was aroused in her bosom.

She was determined that those who had sent her beloved White Brother of the Snow to destruction in the deadly place of evil spirits must die. How she should compa.s.s their death she did not yet know; this was a detail for circ.u.mstance to decide, but it must be done. White Brother of the Snow was of her tribe; the law of her savage nature told her his death must be avenged.

At the end of a mile or so she left the trail and turned sharply to the northward, winding her way deftly through moisture-laden underbrush which scarcely seemed to lessen her pace. Presently she broke out upon the sh.o.r.es of a lake and behind some willow bushes uncovered a small birch-bark canoe, which she had carefully concealed there on her journey to the river tilt.

Turning the canoe over her head, with the middle thwart resting upon her shoulders, she took a southwesterly direction until the old portage trail was again encountered, and resuming the trail she at length came upon the first lake of the chain through which the portage route pa.s.sed.

The storm had ceased, and the stars were breaking through the clouds as Manikawan launched her canoe. It was a long, narrow lake, and paddling its length she had no difficulty in locating the place where the stream entered; and not far away a blazed tree, now plainly visible in the light of the rising moon, told her where the trail led out.

Here, as she stepped ash.o.r.e, she discovered the first of the series of tilts which Bob and Shad had built, and, immediately pushing aside the flimsy bark door, entered the tilt and struck a match. Its flare disclosed a half-burned candle on a shelf near the door, and lighting it she held it aloft for a survey of the interior of the tilt.

On the bunk at the side were two or three bags evidently containing clothing and other supplies, while on the bunk in the rear were some odds and ends of clothing, a folded tent, a coil of rope, doubtless used by the young adventurers as a tracking line, to a.s.sist them in hauling their canoe up the swift stream which connected the lake with the river below, and a rifle in a sealskin case.

On beholding this last object, Manikawan gave a low exclamation of pleasure. Taking a chip from the floor she bent the candle over it, permitting some of the hot grease to flow upon it, and setting the candle firmly in the grease placed the improvised candlestick upon the tent stove.