," persisted the
jolly father, all unconscious that he was emphasizing a difference which
many of the traders were spelling out in hard years of experience.

"I've seen papooses that were white for a day or two after they were
born----"

"Effect of the christening," interrupted the youth, whose head, between
flattered vanity and the emptied contents of his drinking cup, was very
light indeed.

"Take that idiot out and put him to bed, somebody," commanded Cameron.

"For a day or two after they were born," reiterated the priest; "but I
never saw such a white-skinned squaw!"

"Where did you see her?" I inquired in a voice which was not my own.

"On Lake Winnipeg. Coming down two weeks ago we camped near a band of
Sioux, and I declare, as I passed a tepee, I saw a woman's face that
looked as white as snow. She was sleeping, and the curtain had blown up.
Her child was in her arms, and I tell you her bare arms were as white as
snow."

"Must have been the effect of the moonlight," explained some one.

"Moonlight didn't give the other Indians that complexion," insisted the
priest.

It was my turn to feel my head suddenly turn giddy, though liquor had
not passed my lips. This information could have only one meaning. I was
close on the track of Miriam, and Eric was near; yet the slightest
blunder on my part might ruin all chance of meeting him and rescuing
her.

CHAPTER VIII

THE LITTLE STATUE ANIMATE

The men began arguing about the degrees of whiteness in a squaw's skin.
Those, married to native women, averred that differences of complexion
were purely matters of temperament and compared their dusky wives to
Spanish belles. The priest was now talking across the table to Duncan
Cameron, advocating a renewal of North-West trade with the Mandanes on
the Missouri, whither he was bound on his missionary tour. To venture
out of the fort through the Indian encampments, where natives and
outlaws were holding high carnival, and my sleepless foe could have a
free hand, would be to risk all chance of using the information that had
come to me.

I did not fear death--fear of death was left east of the Sault in those
days. On my preservation depended Miriam's rescue. Besides, if either Le
Grand Diable or myself had to die, I came to the conclusion of other men
similarly situated--that my enemy was the one who should go.

Violins, flutes and bag-pipes were striking up in different parts of the
hall. Simple ballads,