ou was on the other side of the river
from Enterprise, and Stonor must wait on the shore until they came over
after him.

As soon as he left the buildings of the post behind him Stonor's heart
was greatly lifted up. It was his first long ride of the season. The
trail led him through the poplar bush back to the bench, thence in a
bee-line across the prairie. The sun rose as he climbed the bench. The
prairie was not the "bald-headed" so dear to those who know it, but was
diversified with poplar bluffs, clumps of willow, and wild-rose-scrub in
the hollows. The crocuses were in bloom, the poplar trees hanging out
millions of emerald pendants, and the sky showed that exquisite, tender
luminousness that only the northern sky knows when the sun travels
towards the north. Only singing-birds were lacking to complete the idyl
of spring. Stonor, all alone in a beautiful world, lifted up his voice
to supply the missing praise.

Towards sunset he approached the shore of the river opposite Carcajou
Point, but as he didn't wish to arrive at night, he camped within
shelter of the woods. In the morning he signalled for a boat. They came
after him in a dug-out, and he swam his horse across.

A preliminary survey of the place revealed nothing out of the way. The
people who called themselves Beaver Indians were in reality the
scourings of half the tribes in the country, and it is doubtful if there
was an individual of pure red race among them. Physically they were a
sad lot, for Nature revenges herself swiftly on the offspring of
hybrids. Quaint ethnological differences were exhibited in the same
family; one brother would have a French physiognomy, another a Scottish
cast of feature, and a third the thick lips and flattened nose of a
negro. Their village was no less nondescript than its inhabitants,
merely a straggling row of shacks, thrown together anyhow, and roofed
with sods, now putting forth a brave growth of weeds. These houses were
intended for a winter residence only. In summer they "pitched around."
At present they were putting their dug-outs and canoes in order for a
migration.

Stonor was received on the beach by Shose (Joseph) Cardinal, a fine,
up-standing ancient of better physique than his sons and grandsons. In a
community of hairless men he was further distinguished by a straggling
grey beard. His wits were beginning to fail, but not yet his cunning. He
was extremely anxious to learn the reason for the policeman's comin