ped. This was brought
to the old chief, and he called to his men to fall back. They had not
seen one man of the invaders; all was silent and dark within the Fort;
even the two torches which had been burning above the gate were down.
At that moment, as if to add to the strangeness, a caribou came suddenly
through the fires, and, passing not far from the bewildered Indians,
plunged into the trees behind the Fort.

The caribou is credited with great powers. It is thought to understand
all that is said to it, and to be able to take the form of a spirit. No
Indian will come near it till it is dead, and he that kills it out of
season is supposed to bring down all manner of evil.

So at this sight they cried out--the women falling to the ground with
their faces in their arms--that the caribou had done this thing. For a
moment they were all afraid. Besides, as a brave showed, there was no
mark on the body of Young Eye.

Pierre knew quite well that this was a bull caribou, travelling wildly
till he found another herd. He would carry on the deception. "Wail for
the dead, as your women do in Ireland. That will finish them," he said
to Macavoy.

The giant threw his voice up and out, so that it seemed to come from
over the Fort to the Indians, weird and crying. Even the half-breeds
standing by felt a light shock of unnatural excitement. The Indians
without drew back slowly from the Fort, leaving a clear space between.
Macavoy had uncanny tricks with his voice, and presently he changed
the song into a shrill, wailing whistle, which went trembling about the
place and then stopped suddenly.

"Sure, that's a poor game, Pierre," he whispered; "an' I'd rather be
pluggin' their hides wid bullets, or givin' the double-an'-twist. It's
fightin' I come for, and not the trick av Mother Kilkevin."

Pierre arranged a plan of campaign at once. Every man looked to his gun,
the gates were slowly opened, and Macavoy stepped out. Pierre had thrown
over the Irishman's shoulders the great skin of a musk-ox which he
had found inside the stockade. He was a strange, immense figure, as he
walked into the open space, and, folding his arms, looked round. In
the shadow of the gate behind were Pierre and the halfbreeds, with guns
cocked.

Macavoy had lived so long in the north that he knew enough of all the
languages to speak to this tribe. When he came out a murmur of wonder
ran among the Indians. They had never seen anyone so tall, for they were
not