d a while in France,
and understand your lingo pretty well. Pass that goose, Morel, if you
have left anything on it. This air o' the wilderness beats the air o'
the sea itself for givin' a fellow a twist."

The remarks of Jenkins, while they did not absolutely destroy the
confidence of the Swiss party, shook it enough to show the wily
half-breed that he must do something if possible to re-establish his
credit. He therefore volunteered another song, which was gladly
accepted and highly appreciated; for, as we have said, La Certe
possessed a really good and tuneful voice, and these immigrants were a
musical people.

While this was going on at the Swiss camp-fires an incident occurred at
the fire round which the McKay-Davidson party was assembled, which
deserves particular notice.

Old McKay was giving some directions to Fergus; Duncan junior was seated
opposite Dan Davidson, smoking his pipe, and Elspie had gone into her
tent, when Slowfoot, the spouse of La Certe, drew near.

"Come along, old girl," exclaimed McKay senior. "It iss some baccy you
will be wantin', I'll wager."

Slowfoot did not reply in words, but the smile upon her face was
eloquent.

"Come away, then," continued the hospitable Highlander. "You shall hev
a pipe of it, whatever."

He handed her a large plug of tobacco, and the woman, sitting down close
to young Duncan, produced her pipe, and drew out a knife for the purpose
of cutting up the tobacco.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Duncan, "where did you get hold o' my knife?"

He stopped abruptly--a little confused in spite of himself. For the
moment he had quite forgotten that the knife had been left in the camp
where he had slain Perrin, and the sudden sight of it had thrown him off
his guard. It was now too late to unsay the words, but not too late to
mislead his hearers.

"I got it from Marie Blanc," said Slowfoot with a look of surprise.
"Does the knife belong to Cloudbrow?"

"I think it does. I'm almost sure it iss mine. Let me see it,"
returned Duncan, taking the knife from the woman's hand, and examining
it with cool and critical deliberation.

"No," continued he, "it iss not mine, but very like one that I lost--so
like that I felt sure at first it wass mine."

Men who lie, usually overact their part. Duncan glanced suspiciously at
Dan to see how he took the explanation as he returned the knife to
Slowfoot, and Dan observed the glance, as being uncalled for--
unnatural--in the circ