look of pride.

"Have you thought I had left you for him?" she asked. "I have learned
these things."

Sam uttered an exclamation of dismay.

"What?" she queried with a slow surprise.

"But he, the Chippewa," Sam pointed out, "now he knows of our presence.
He will aid Jingoss; he will warn him afresh to-night!"

May-may-gwan was again rapt in sad but ex alted contemplation of
something beyond. She answered merely by a contemptuous gesture.

"But--" insisted Sam.

"I know," she replied, with conviction.

Sam, troubled he knew not why, leaned forward to arrange the fire.

"How do you know, Little Sister?" he inquired, after some hesitation.

She answered by another weary gesture. Again Sam hesitated.

"Little Sister," said he, at last, "I am an old man. I have seen many
years pass. They have left me some wisdom. They have made my heart good
to those who are in trouble. If it was not to return to your own people,
then why did you go with Ah-tek this morning?"

"That I might know what my brothers wished to know."

"And you think he told you all these things truly?" doubted Sam.

She looked directly at him.

"Little Father," said she slowly, "long has this man wanted me to live
in his wigwam. For that he joined Haukemah's band;--because I was
there. I have been good in his eyes. Never have I given him favour. My
favour always would unlock his heart."

"But are you sure he spoke truth," objected Sam. "You have never looked
kindly on him. You left Haukemah's band to go with us. How could he
trust you?"

She looked at him bravely.

"Little Father," she replied, "there is a moment when man and woman
trust utterly, and when they say truly what lies in their hearts."

"Good God!" cried Sam, in English.

"It was the only way," she answered the spirit of his interjection. "I
had known before only his forked tongue."

"Why did you do this, girl? You had no right, no reason. You should have
consulted us."

"Little Father," said she, "the people of your race are a strange
people. I do not understand them. An evil is done them, and they pass it
by; a good is done them, and they do not remember. With us it is
different. Always in our hearts dwell the good and the evil."

"What good have we done to you?" asked Sam.

"Jibiwanisi has looked into my heart," she replied, lapsing into the
Indian rhetoric of deep emotion. "He has looked into my heart, and in
the doorway he blots out the world. At the first I wanted