s which still had some power to check his untutored passion.
Her smile, too, was not wholly devoid of derision; but that was lost
upon him.

"Aim-sa--beautiful. Ah! yes--yes, I know. You speak love to me. You
speak love to White Squaw."

"Ay, love," cried Nick, the blood mounting with a rush to his strong
face. "Guess you don't know love, my girl. Not yet. But mebbe you will.
Say, Aim-sa, I'll teach it ye. I'll teach it ye real well, gal. You'll
be my squaw, an' we'll light right out o' here. I've got half share in
our pile, an' it ain't a little. Jest say right here as ye'll do it, an'
I'll fix things, an' hitch up the dogs."

Nick paused in his eloquence. The squaw's eyes danced with delight, and
he read the look to suit himself. Already he anticipated a favourable
answer. But he was quickly undeceived. Aim-sa merely revelled in the
passion she had aroused, like a mischievous child with a forbidden
plaything. She enjoyed it for a moment, then her face suddenly became
grave, and her eyelids drooped over the wonderful eyes which he thought
had told him so much. And her answer came with a shake of the head.

"Aim-sa loves not. She must not. The Moosefoot--she is Queen."

"Curses on the Moosefoot, I say," cried Nick, with passionate impulse.

Aim-sa put up her hand.

"The man--'The Hood.' Fear the Spirit."

A chill shot down through Nick's heart as he listened. But his passion
was only checked for the moment. The next and he seized the woman in his
powerful arms and drew her to his breast, and kissed her not too
unwilling lips. The kiss maddened him, and he held her tight, while he
sought her blindly, madly. He kissed her cheeks, her hair, her eyes, her
lips, and the touch of her warm flesh scorched his very soul. Nor is it
possible to say how long he would have held her had she not, by a
subtle, writhing movement, slipped from within his enfolding arms. Her
keen ears had caught a sound which did not come from the fighting dogs.
It was the penetrating forest cry in the brooding mountain calm.

"Remember--'The Hood,'" Aim-sa warned him. And the next moment had
vanished within the dugout.

Now Nick knew that he too had heard the cry, and he stood listening,
while his passion surged through his veins and his heart beat in mighty
pulsations. As he gazed over the forest waste, he expected to see the
mysterious hooded figure.

But what he beheld brought an angry flush to his cheeks. He did not see
"The Hood," but R