ir had changed her mind again and
was returning to put an end to him.

The thought sharpened his vision. He saw a thin shadow a little darker
than the gloom of the river; it grew into shape; something grated
lightly upon sand and pebbles, and then he heard the guarded plash of
feet in shallow water and saw some one pulling the canoe up higher. A
second figure joined the first. They advanced a few paces and stopped.
In a moment a voice called softly,

"M'sieu! M'sieu Carrigan!"

There was an anxious note in the voice, but Carrigan held his tongue.
And then he heard the woman say,

"It was here, Bateese! I am sure of it!"

There was more than anxiety in her voice now. Her words trembled with
distress. "Bateese--if he is dead--he is up there close to the trees."

"But he isn't dead," said Carrigan, raising himself a little. "He is
here, behind the rock again!"

In a moment she had run to where he was lying, his hand clutching the
cold barrel of the pistol which he had found in the sand, his white
face looking up at her. Again he found himself staring into the glow of
her eyes, and in that pale light which precedes the coming of stars and
moon the fancy struck him that she was lovelier than in the full
radiance of the sun. He heard a throbbing note in her throat. And then
she was down on her knees at his side, leaning close over him, her
hands groping at his shoulders, her quick breath betraying how swiftly
her heart was beating.

"You are not hurt--badly?" she cried.

"I don't know," replied David. "You made a perfect shot. I think a part
of my head is gone. At least you've shot away my balance, because I
can't stand on my feet!"

Her hand touched his face, remaining there for an instant, and the palm
of it pressed his forehead. It was like the touch of cool velvet, he
thought. Then she called to the man named Bateese. He made Carrigan
think of a huge chimpanzee as he came near, because of the shortness of
his body and the length of his arms. In the half light he might have
been a huge animal, a hulking creature of some sort walking upright.
Carrigan's fingers closed more tightly on the butt of his automatic.
The woman began to talk swiftly in a patois of French and Cree. David
caught the gist of it. She was telling Bateese to carry him to the
canoe, and to be very careful, because m'sieu was badly hurt. It was
his head, she emphasized. Bateese must be careful of his head.

David slipped his pistol into its h