iting her lower lip to
keep back tears. She could not speak for the emotion that welled up in
her.

"You--all well?" he asked, with the imperturbable facial mask of his
race that concealed all emotion.

She nodded.

"Good," he went on. "Your father pray the Great Spirit keep you safe."

"Where is Father?"

He looked in the direction from which he had come. "We go Jasper's
cabin--your father, red soldier, American trader, Onistah. You gone.
Big storm--snow--sleet. No can go farther. Then your father he pray.
We wait till Great Spirit he say, 'No more wind, snow,' Then we move
camp. All search--go out find you." He pointed north, south, east, and
west. "The Great Spirit tell me to come here. I say, 'Sleeping Dawn
she with God, for Jesus' sake, Amen.'"

"You dear, dear boy," she sobbed.

"So I find you. Hungry?"

"No. I shot a fox."

"Then we go now." He looked at her feet. "Where your snowshoes?"

"West took them to keep me here. I'm making a pair. Come. We'll finish
them."

They moved toward the house. Onistah stopped. The girl followed his
eyes. They were fastened on a laden dog-train with two men moving
across a lake near the shore of which the cabin had been built.

Her fear-filled gaze came back to the Indian. "It's West and Mr.
Whaley. What'll we do?"

Already he was kneeling, fumbling with the straps of his snowshoes.
"You go find your father. Follow trail to camp. Then you send him
here. I hide in woods."

"No--no. They'll find you, and that West would shoot you."

"Onistah know tricks. They no find him."

He fastened the snow-webs on her feet while she was still protesting.
She glanced again at the dog-train jogging steadily forward. If she
was going, it must be at once. Soon it would be too late for either of
them to escape.

"You will hide in the woods, won't you, so they can't find you?" she
implored.

He smiled reassurance. "Go," he said.

Another moment, and she was pushing over the crust along the trail by
which the Blackfoot had come.

CHAPTER XXVII

APACHE STUFF

The hunters brought back three caribou and two sacks of rabbits,
supplies enough to enable West to reach Lookout. The dogs were
stronger than when they had set out, for they had gorged themselves on
the parts of the game unfit for human use.

Nothing had been said by either of the men as to what was to be done
with Jessie McRae, but the question was in the background of both
their thoughts, just as was th