ht."

Stane gave her a quick look of admiration. "I know you will not be
afraid," he said, "and if Anderton gets through it may not be long
before help arrives. Also it must be remembered that we may be
disturbing ourselves unnecessarily. That," he nodded towards the
arrow--"may be no more than the malicious freak of some hunter
returning home, and meant to scare us."

"But you do not think so?" asked Helen, looking at his grave face.

"Well----" he began, but the girl interrupted him.

"You don't," she cried. "I know you don't. You have already admitted
that you think the matter is serious, as I do myself, though I don't
pretend to know anything about Indians. In a situation of this sort the
truth is the best, and I know, we both know, that there is some
occasion for concern. Is not that so?"

"Well," he agreed, "we can't be too careful."

"Then tell me what we must do," she said a little reproachfully, "and
don't make me feel that I am a child."

He considered a moment, then he replied: "We must keep watch and watch
through the night. Not that I think there will be any attack. These
Northern Indians are wonderfully patient. They will play a waiting
game, and in the end make a surprise attack. They will know that now we
are on the alert, and I should not be surprised if for the present they
have withdrawn altogether."

"You really believe that?"

"Honestly and truly!"

"Then for the moment we are safe."

"Yes! I think so; and you can go to rest with a quiet mind."

"Rest!" laughed the girl. "Do you think I can rest with my heart
jumping with excitement? I shall keep the first watch, perhaps after
that I shall be sufficiently tired--and bored--to go to sleep."

Stane smiled at her words, and admiration of her courage glowed in his
eyes, but what she suggested fitted in well enough with his own
desires, and he let her have her way, and himself lay down on his couch
of spruce-boughs, and after a little time pretended to sleep. But in
reality sleep was far from his eyes. From where he lay, he could see
the girl's face, as she sat in the glowing light of the stove. There
was a thoughtful, musing look upon it, but no sign of fear whatever,
and he knew that her courageous demeanour was not an assumed one, but
was the true index of the gay courage of her heart.

Helen was thinking of the face of Miskodeed as she had seen it over her
shoulder, when they were departing from the encampment up the lake. She
had r