knew that the Yellow Knives were friendly with the Mooseheads, and hated the Brushwoods, but he knew, also, that above any friendship for the Mooseheads was the bond, amounting almost to idolatry which attached them to Connie Morgan, the Kloshe Tenas Tyee.
Therefore, the scout turned northward from the mouth of the Lansing. In "Soapy" White's store a light burned and, unseen in the darkness, Ick Far paused and looked in at the window at the man who sat smoking upon his counter. He gripped tightly his carbine, and lightly his lean fingers played with the hilt of his sheath knife. But he pressed his lips tightly and hurried on into the dark. Up the river—up the small creek, he passed, travelling night and day. Up and over the steep divide, and down on the other side into a maze of creeks and feeders. Then, on the morning of the third day, he staggered into the village—straight into the lodge of White Eagle, where he told the chief his story—and collapsed upon the robes that covered the floor of the lodge.
It was toward evening of the sixth day after the scout's departure. The setting sun blazed red
