"Well, good-bye, George," he said, with a great display of cordiality.

"I hope those owls of yours will permit me to ride in peace."

"I have no doubt they will," replied Iredale, with an inscrutable smile. "Good-bye."

Hervey rode away. The man he had left remained standing at his front door. The horseman half turned in his saddle as the bush closed about him.

"Curse the man for his d----d superiority," he muttered. "I suppose he thinks I am blind. Well, Mr. Iredale, we've made a pleasant start from my point of view. If you intend to marry Prudence you'll have to pay the piper. Guess I'm that piper. It's money I want, and it's money you'll have to pay."

The mysterious owner of Lonely Ranch was thinking deeply as he watched his guest depart.

"I believe he's the greatest scoundrel I have ever come across," he said to himself. "Money? Why, he'd sell his soul for it, or I'm no judge of men of his kidney, and, worse luck, I know his sort well enough. I wonder what made me do it? Not friendship. Prudence? No, not exactly. And yet--I don't know. I think I'd sooner have him on my side than against me." Then he turned his eyes towards the corrals and outbuildings which were dotted about amongst the trees, and finally they settled upon a little clearing on the side of Front Hill. It was a graveyard of the early settlers. "Yes, I must break away from it all--and as soon as possible. I have said so for many a year, but the fascination of it has held me. If I hope to ever marry Prudence I must give it up. I must not--dare not let her discover the truth. The child's goodness drives me to desperation. Yes--it shall all go."

His gaze wandered in the direction Hervey had taken, and a troubled look came into his calm eyes. A moment later he turned suddenly with a shiver and pa.s.sed into the house. Somehow his thoughts were very gloomy.

CHAPTER X

THE GRAVEYARD AT OWL HOOT

Prudence and Alice Gordon surveyed the wild scene that suddenly opened out before them. They had drawn their horses up to a standstill on the brow of no inconsiderable hill, and beyond stretched a panorama of strikingly impressive beauty. Nature in one of her wildest moments, verdant and profound, was revealed.

Alice was a pretty girl, rather ordinary, and ever ready for laughter, which helped to conceal an undercurrent of serious thought. She was an old pupil of Sarah Gurridge's, and consequently Prudence's school-friend. But Alice lived in Ainsley, where, report had it, she was "keeping company" with Robb Chillingwood, and now the two girls only met when Alice visited the farm at such seasons of the year as the present.

"Do you think it will be safe to go further?" asked Alice, in a tone of awestruck amazement. "You say you are sure of the way. Would it not be better to turn off here and make for Lonely Ranch, and seek Chintz's guidance? There is time enough, and it is so easy to get lost."

The girls had set out to visit Lonely Ranch, to enjoy a ramble and a sort of picnic in the surrounding woods. Iredale was away on business, and the two friends, availing themselves of the opportunity, were taking a day off from the duties of the farm. They had started with the intention of riding over and leaving their horses with Iredale's man, Chintz, and then proceeding on foot. At the last moment Prudence had changed her mind and decided on a visit to the great Lake of the Woods, which was two miles further on to the south-west of the ranch.

They carried their provisions in their saddle-bags, and had made up their minds to find some suitable break in the woods on the sh.o.r.e of the lake where they could tether their horses and idle the afternoon away.

Instead of turning into the valley of Owl Hoot they had crossed the mouth of it, and were now at the summit of its eastern slope, gazing out upon the mysteries of the almost uninhabited regions beyond.

"Of course it's safe, you silly," said Prudence. "Why, suppose we were to lose ourselves, that old mare you are riding would take you home straight as the crow flies. Besides, I have no fancy for that ferret-faced Chintz becoming one of our party. We could never talk freely in front of him."

"All right, then," said Alice, with a sigh. "You are leader of this expedition. Don't the woods look gloomy? And look out beyond. There seems to be no end to them. Shall we stop and have dinner here, and ride on afterwards?"

"Certainly not, madam," Prudence said briskly. "No shirking; besides, we want water to make our tea. There's none here."

Prudence understood her friend's fears, which were not without reason. It was a simple thing to get lost in such a forest. But anyway, as she had said, the old prairie horses they were riding would carry them home should they mistake the road. There was really no danger.

It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining with unabated splendour; as yet it wanted an hour to noon. The brilliant daylight was somehow different here to what it was on the prairie. The fierce sunlight poured down upon an unbroken carpet of dull green, which seemed to have in it a tinge of the blackness of the heavy tree-trunks which it concealed beneath. The result was curiously striking. The brightness of the day was dulled, and the earth seemed bathed in a peculiar light such as a vault of grey rain-clouds above it bestows. The girls, gazing into the valley which yawned at their feet, were looking into a shadowed hollow of sombre melancholy--unchanging, unrelieved.

Beyond stretched a vista of hills, growing steadily greater as the hazy distance was reached. Behind where they stood was the Owl Hoot valley and woodlands, equally sombre, until the prairie was reached.

The moments pa.s.sed, and they made no effort to move. They were both lost in thought, and looked out across the wild woodlands with eyes which beheld only that which was most profoundly beautiful. Prudence was enjoying the scene, the redolent air which rose from the woods below, the solitary grandeur of the world about her, with all the appreciation of a prairie-bred girl. Alice merely saw and marvelled at the picture before her. She was less enthusiastic, less used to such surroundings than her companion. They affected her differently. She marvelled, she wondered, but a peculiar nervousness was inspired by what she beheld. At length Prudence took the initiative. She lifted her reins and her horse moved forward.

"Come along, Alice," she said. And the two disappeared down the slope into the giant forest below.

Once on their way Alice recovered her good spirits again. Within the forest the world did not seem so vast, so confusing to the eye. On either hand, ahead, were to be seen only bare tree-trunks beneath the ponderous green canopy which shut out the sunlight from above. The scrunch of the pine-cones crushing under the hoofs of the horses carried a welcome sense of companionship to the riders. Alice found the reality much less fearful than the contemplation from the heights above. In a few moments both girls were chattering gaily, all thoughts of losing themselves, or of other dangers which these virgin forests might conceal, having pa.s.sed from their minds.

Whatever doubts may have a.s.sailed Alice they were soon set at rest, for, in a short time, after ascending another rather sharp slope, they found themselves gazing down upon a long, narrow sheet of water. It was one of the many inlets with which the sh.o.r.es of the mysterious Lake of the Woods abound. From where the girls first caught sight of it, it looked as though the forest had been cleanly rent by the glistening water which had cut its way into the dense growth, demolishing every sign of vegetation in its path, but leaving everything which grew even down to its very edge. This inlet widened out between two hills, and, beyond that, in a dazzling haze, the vast body of the lake, like a distant view of the sea, was just visible. It was a perfect picture.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" said Prudence enthusiastically. "Isn't it worth a few miles' ride to see it? I'm glad we didn't go and bother that horrid little Chintz. It would have taken half the pleasure away to have had his ferrety face with us."

"Lovely--lovely," exclaimed Alice rapturously. Her bright eyes were dancing with delight, and her breath came and went rapidly. "Just fancy, Prue; I have lived all these years within reach of this place and this is the first time I have ever set eyes upon the lake."

Her companion laughed.

"That is not to be wondered at. There are very few people who ever come this way. Why, I couldn't say, unless it is that the country is bad to travel through on this side. Mind, although there are few habitations on the western sh.o.r.e, there are plenty to the east and south. I never could understand why George Iredale selected Owl Hoot for the site of his ranch. Just think how delightful it would be to have your home built on this hill." The girl indicated their position with her riding-whip. "Wouldn't it be delightful to wake each morning and gaze out upon such a scene?"

"Perfect," said Alice, whilst her eyes glanced mischievously in her friend's direction. "Summer or winter?"

"Summer, of course, you goose," exclaimed Prudence.

"Of course; winter would be different, wouldn't it?" Alice was laughing, but Prudence was quite serious.

"Yes; that's the worst of all Nature's finest handiwork. There's always some drawback to it. Ugh, winter in this place would be too dreadful to contemplate. These wilds are only fit for Indians and coyotes and wolves when the summer is over."

"But it's a heavenly spot now," said Alice. Suddenly she raised her whip and pointed. Far down, out upon the surface of the silvery belt of water, a tiny speck was slowly moving. At first so distant was it that it appeared to be stationary, but after a while it was distinctly to be seen moving. "What is it?" she questioned sharply.

"Looks like a boat," replied Prudence. "I wonder whose?"

"I give it up. Does Mr. Iredale keep a boat?"

Although Prudence was the elder of the two girls she was much the simpler. She was essentially of the prairie. She had no suspicion of the apparently innocent inquiry.

"I don't think so. I never really heard. No; I should think that must belong to some Indians or half-breed fishermen. There are some of those people about, I believe."

She continued to watch the boat for some moments. The less serious girl beside her allowed her attention to wander. Prudence saw the boat approach the near sh.o.r.e. Then it disappeared under the shadow of the towering pines. An exclamation from Alice drew her attention.

"Look over the other side, Prue; there's another boat. It has just shot out from that great clump of undergrowth. Why, there are a dozen people in it. Look! they are racing along. Where's the other gone?"

"It disappeared under this bank. Ah, the other one is following in its wake. Yes, I should say those are Indians."

"Let us go on down. We can see better from the bank. My curiosity is aroused. I didn't know there was so much fishing done here. Mr.

Iredale never speaks of it."

"I don't think Mr. Iredale sees much of the lake. His land--that is, his grazing--lies to the west of the house. But he rarely talks about his work. As he says, so few people care about this wild district that he does not like to worry folks by reminding them of its existence."

"All the same," replied Alice, "one of these fine days some enterprising American will come along and find out some, at present, unknown wealth in the place, and then the settlers round the district will kick themselves. Trust a Canuk for sitting down on his hundred and sixty acres and never moving beyond the limits of his fencing. I like this weird place, with its woods, its hills and valleys, its lake and its mysterious boats. You should draw George--I mean Mr.

Iredale--out. There must be a deal that is of interest here."

"Why should I draw him out?" asked Prudence innocently, as the horses ambled down the hill towards the sh.o.r.e of the lake. "You ask him. I believe he'd like to tell some one all about it."

"No, thanks, friend Prue," said Alice cheerfully. "I'm not what you might call a 'free agent.' There is a young man, to wit, a certain Robb, who might object. Besides, I have not turned poacher yet."

"What on earth do you mean?"