es after Father Roland had disappeared in the
forest David and Mukoki stood without moving. Amazed and a little
stunned by the change they had seen in the Missioner's ghastly face, and
perplexed by the strangeness of his voice and the unsteadiness of his
walk as he had gone away from them, they looked expectantly for him to
return out of the shadows of the timber. His last words had come to them
with metallic hardness, and their effect, in a way, had been rather
appalling: "There will be--no prayer." Why? The question was in Mukoki's
gleaming, narrow eyes as he faced the dark spruce, and it was on David's
lips as he turned at last to look at the Cree. There was to be no prayer
for Tavish! David felt himself shuddering, when suddenly, breaking the
silence like a sinister cackle, an exultant exclamation burst from the
Indian, as though, all at once, understanding had dawned upon him. He
pointed to the dead man, his eyes widening.

"Tavish--he great devil," he said. "_Mon Pere_ make no prayer.
_Mey-oo!_" and he grinned in triumph, for had he not, during all these
months, told his master that Tavish was a devil, and that his cabin was
filled with little devils? "Mey-oo," he cried again, louder than before.
"A devil!" and with a swift, vengeful movement he sprang to Tavish,
caught him by his moccasined feet, and to David's horror flung him
fiercely into the shallow grave. "A devil!" he croaked again, and like a
madman began throwing in the frozen earth upon the body.

David turned away, sickened by the thud of the body and the fall of the
clods on its upturned face--for he had caught a last unpleasant glimpse
of the face, and it was staring and grinning up at the stars. A feeling
of dread followed him into the cabin. He filled the stove, and sat down
to wait for Father Roland. It was a long wait. He heard Mukoki go away.
The mice rustled about him again. An hour had passed when he heard a
sound at the door, a scraping sound, like the peculiar drag of claws
over wood, and a moment later it was followed by a whine that came to
him faintly. He opened the door slowly. Baree stood just outside the
threshold. He had given him two fish at noon, so he knew that it was not
hunger that had brought the dog to the cabin. Some mysterious instinct
had told him that David was alone; he wanted to come in; his yearning
gleamed in his eyes as he stood there stiff-legged in the moonlight.
David held out a hand, on the point of enticing him thr