have been the result of fear
as to how the Canadian half-breeds and friends of the slain man would
regard the matter in the event of its being found out.

There was reason for anxiety on this head, for poor Perrin was a great
favourite among his comrades, while Cloudbrow was very much the reverse.

Having finished the supper which he had purchased at such a terrible
price, the young man gathered his things together, packed the provisions
on his back, put on his snow-shoes and left the scene of the murder.

Although a dark night, there was sufficient moon-light to enable him to
pick his steps, but he had not advanced more than two miles when he came
upon the track of a party that had preceded him. This rendered the
walking more easy, and as he plodded along he reflected that the wolves
would soon find Perrin's body, and, by tearing it to pieces render
recognition of the victim impossible.

Suddenly it occurred to him that if any of the scattered band of hunters
should come on the camp before the wolves had time to do their work, the
print of his snow-shoes might tell a tale--for snowshoes were of various
shapes and sizes, and most of his companions in the Settlement might be
pretty well acquainted with the shape of his. The danger of such a
_contretemps_ was not great, but, to make quite sure that it should not
occur, he turned round and walked straight back on his track to the camp
he had just left--thus obliterating, or, rather, confusing the track, so
as to render recognition improbable. As he walked over it a third time,
in resuming his march to the Settlement, all danger on this ground, he
considered, was effectually counteracted. Of course, when he reached
the tracks of the party before mentioned, all trace of his own track was
necessarily lost among these.

That "murder will out" is supposed to be an unquestionable truism. We
nevertheless question it very much; for, while the thousands of cases of
murder that have been discovered are obvious, the vast number, it may
be, that have never been found out are not obvious, however probable.

The case we are now describing seemed likely to belong to the class
which remains a mystery till altogether forgotten. Nevertheless Nemesis
was on the wing.

While Duncan McKay junior was thus pushing his way over the plains in
the direction of Red River Settlement, two poor half-breed women were
toiling slowly over the same plains behind him, bound for the same haven