he forgot his own uncomfortable position in the delight that he felt
at the horrible death that he had so cleverly and cruelly arranged for
Bob.

Micmac John retraced his steps some eight miles to the wide stretch of
timber land. There he halted and pitched camp. The wind shrieked
through the tree tops and swept the marshes in its untamed fury, but
he was quite warm and contented in the tent. The storm was working his
revenge for him, and he was quite satisfied that it would do the work
well.

The men that Bob Gray had come in contact with and associated with all
his life were the honest, upright people of the Bay. He had never
known a man that would dishonestly take a farthing's worth of
another's property or that would knowingly harm a fellow being. The
Bay folk were constantly helping their more needy neighbours and lived
almost as intimately as brothers. When any one was in trouble the
others came to offer sympathy and frequently deprived themselves of
the actual necessaries of life that their neighbours might not suffer.
Sometimes they had their misunderstandings and quarrels, but these
were all of a momentary character and quickly forgotten.

There was little wonder then that Bob had failed to read Micmac John's
true character, and it could hardly be expected that he would suspect
the half-breed of trying to injure him. Children of these far-off,
thinly populated lands in many respects develop judgment and mature in
thought at a much younger age than in more thickly settled and more
favoured countries. One reason for this is the constant fight for
existence that is being waged and the necessity for them to take up
their share of the burden of life early. Another reason is doubtless
the fact that their isolated homes cut them off from the companionship
of children of their own age and their associates are almost wholly
men and women grown. This was the case with Bob and in courage,
thoughtfulness of the comfort of others and physical endurance he was
a man, while in guile he was a mere baby. He believed that Micmac
John was like every other man he knew and was a good neighbour.

When men have lived long in the wilderness without fresh meat they
have a tremendous longing for it. Bob knew that neither Dick nor Ed
had tasted venison since they reached their hunting grounds, for they
had not been as fortunate as he, and that some of the fresh-killed
meat would be a great treat to them and one they would appreciate.