the darkness. Being a quick-witted girl she
promptly let slip her ladle into the fat, as if by mischance, and ran
to her father's lodge for another, followed by Meshu-kwa's scolding
voice. The lodge had a back-exit towards the wall of the sandhill,
where the wind's eddy had swept a lane almost clear of snow; and
Azoka pushed her pretty head through the flap-way here in time to spy
the dark shadows of the pair before they disappeared behind the
bachelor's lodge. Quietly as a pantheress she stole after them,
smoothing out her footprints behind her until she reached the
trampled snow; and so, coming to the angle of the bachelors' lodge,
cowered listening.

"But suppose that I had missed my shot?" said the voice of Netawis.
"I tell you that my heart was as wax; and when the lock fell, I saw
nothing. Why, what is the matter with you, Ononwe?"

"I thought you had led me here to quarrel with me," Ononwe answered
slowly, and Azoka held her breath.

"Quarrel, brother? Why should I quarrel with you? It was a risk, as
I am telling you; but you trusted me, and I brought you here to thank
you that in your good heart you gave the shot up to me."

"But it was not my good heart." Ononwe's voice had grown hoarse.
"It was an evil thought in my head, and you will have to quarrel with
me, Netawis."

"That Ononwe is a good man," said Azoka to herself.

"I do not understand. Did you expect me, then, to miss? Do not say,
brother, that you gave me the gun _wishing_ me to miss and be the
mock of the camp!"

"Yes, and no. I thought, if you took the gun, it would not matter
whether you hit or missed."

"Why?"

"Are you so simple, Netawis? Or is it in revenge that you force me
to tell? . . . Yes, I have played you an evil trick, and by an evil
tempting. I saw you with Azoka. . . . I gave you the gun, thinking,
'If he misses, the whole camp will mock him, and a maid turns from a
man whom others mock. But if he should kill the bear, he will have
to reckon with Meshu-kwa. Meshu-kwa fears ill-luck, and she will
think more than twice before receiving a son-in-law who has killed
her grandmother the bear.'"

"I will marry Netawis," said Azoka to herself, shutting her teeth
hard. And yet she could not feel angry with Ononwe as she ought.
But it seemed that neither was Netawis angry; for he answered with
one of those strange laughs of his. She had never been able to
understand them, but she had never heard one that sounded so