of the presence of the savage creatures she had summoned. The
deep blue eyes were alert and watchful, but she showed no signs of fear;
nor did she move. Suddenly a less stealthy and more certain crackling of
the bush made itself heard; and the roving eyes became fixed in one
direction. Beneath the shadow of the laden boughs a tall grey figure
appeared moving towards her. But this was not all, for several slinking,
stealing forms were moving about amongst the barren tree-trunks;
hungry-looking creatures these, with fierce burning eyes and small
pricked ears, with ribs almost bursting through the coarse hides which
covered their low, lank bodies.

But all the woman's attention was centred upon the form of the
other--the hooded figure she had seen in the morning. He came with long,
regular strides, a figure truly calculated to inspire awe. Even now,
near as he was to her, there was no sign of his face to be seen. He was
clad in the folds of grey wolfskin, and a cowl-like hood utterly
concealed his face, while leaving him free to see from within.

As the man came up Aim-sa plunged into voluble speech.

They talked together long and earnestly; their tones were of dictation
on the part of the woman and subservience on the part of the man. Then
the Spirit of the Moosefoot Indians moved away, and the White Squaw
retraced her steps to the dugout.

A look of triumph was in Aim-sa's blue eyes as she returned through the
forest. She gave no heed to the slinking forms that dogged her steps.
She saw nothing of the forest about her; all her interest was in the
dugout and those who lived there.

When she came to the house she received a shock. Nick had returned
during her absence. He had come for the dog sled, and had since brought
the vast carcass of a grizzly into camp. Now he was stripping the rich
fur from the forest king's body. The five huskies, with shivering bodies
and jowls dripping saliva, were squatting around upon their haunches
waiting for the meal they hoped would soon be theirs.

The man, still kneeling over his prize, greeted Aim-sa without pausing
in his work.

"Wher'?" he asked, sparing his words lest he should confuse her.

The unconcern of the query reassured her.

"The forest," replied Aim-sa easily, pointing away down the hill.

There was a long pause while the woodsman plied his knife with rough but
perfect skill. The thick fur rolled under his hands. The snick, snick of
his knife alternated with the