e cried, with an excitement which he had not seen in
her before. "I can climb it--and travel all night--to tell Brokaw and
Hauck I don't belong to them any more, and that we're going away! Brokaw
will be like a mad beast, and before we go I'll scratch his eyes out!"

"Good Lord!" gasped David under his breath.

"And if Hauck swears at me I'll scratch _his_ out!" she declared,
trembling in the glorious anticipation of her vengeance. "I'll ... I'll
scratch _his_ out, anyway, for what he did to Nisikoos!"

David stared at her. She was looking away from him, her eyes on the
break between the mountains, and he noticed how tense her slender body
had become and how tightly her hands were clenched.

"They won't dare to touch me or swear at me when you are there," she
added, with sublime faith.

She turned in time to catch the look in his face. Swiftly the excitement
faded out of her own. She touched his arm, hesitatingly.

"Wouldn't ... you want me ... to scratch out their eyes?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"It wouldn't do," he said. "We must be very careful. We mustn't let them
know you ran away. We must tell them you climbed up the mountain, and
got lost."

"I never get lost," she protested.

"But we must tell them that just the same," he insisted. "Will you?"

She nodded emphatically.

"And now, before we start, tell me why they haven't followed you?"

"Because I came over the mountain," she replied, pointing again toward
the break. "It's all rock, and Tara left no marks. They wouldn't think
we'd climb over the range. They've been looking for us in the other
valley if they have hunted for us at all. We were going to climb over
_that_ range, too." She turned so that she was pointing to the south.

"And then?"

"There are people over there. I've heard Hauck talk about them."

"Did you ever hear him speak of a man by the name of Tavish?" he asked,
watching her closely.

"Tavish?" She pursed her lips into a red "O," and little lines gathered
thoughtfully between her eyes. "Tavish? No-o-o, I never have."

"He lived at one time on Firepan Creek. Had small-pox," said David.

"That is terrible," the girl shuddered. "The Indians die of it up here.
Hauck says that my father and mother died of small-pox, before I could
remember. It is all like a dream. I can see a woman's face sometimes,
and I can remember a cabin, and snow, and lots of dogs. Are you ready to
go?"

He shouldered his pack, and as he arranged