still unheard by
the others, there came slowly out of the gloom a file of dusky-faced,
silent, shadowy forms. They were within the circle of light before Jean
or his companions had moved, and at their head was Kaskisoon, the Cree:
tall, slender as a spruce sapling, and with eyes that went searchingly
from face to face with the uneasy glitter of an ermine's. They fell
upon Jean, and with a satisfied "Ugh!" and a hunch of his shoulders he
turned to his followers. There were seven. Six of them carried rifles.
In the hands of the seventh was a shotgun.

After this, one by one, and two by two, there were added others to the
circle of waiting men about the fire. By two o'clock there were twenty.
They came faster after that. With Bernard, from the south, came
Renault, who had gone to the end of his run. From the east, west, and
south they continued to come--but from out of the northwest there led
no trail. Off there was Thoreau's place. Pack after pack was added to
the dogs in the timber. Their voices rose above and drowned all other
sound. Teams strained at their leashes to get at the throats of rival
teams, and from the black shelter in which they were fastened came a
continuous snarling and gnashing of fangs. Over the coals of a smaller
fire simmered two huge pots of coffee from which each arrival helped
himself; and on long spits over the larger fire were dripping chunks of
moose and caribou meat from which they cut off their own helpings.

In the early dawn there were forty who gathered about Father George to
listen to the final words he had to say. He raised his hands. Then he
bowed his head, and there was a strange silence. Words of prayer fell
solemnly from his lips. Partly it was in Cree, partly in French, and
when he had finished a deep breath ran through the ranks of those who
listened to him. Then he told them, beginning with Cree, in the three
languages of the wilderness, that they were to be led that day by Jean
Jacques Croisset and Philip Darcambal, the husband of Josephine. Two of
the Indians were to remain behind to care for the camp and dogs. Beyond
that they needed no instructions.

They were ready, and Jean was about to give the word to start when
there was an interruption. Out of the forest and into their midst came
a figure--the form of a man who rose above them like a giant, and whose
voice as it bellowed Jean's name had in it the wrath of thunder.

It was the master of Adare!

CHAPTER TWENTY-