I thought--well, I would like to know
him."

"I like that," she said simply.

There was a silence.

"Why don't you--sometime--go to him?" she said, with what seemed almost
like a breathless air.

"I am going," said Stonor simply. "I received permission in the last
mail. The government wants me to look over the Kakisa Indians to see if
they are ready for a treaty. The policy is to leave the Indians alone as
long as they are able to maintain themselves under natural conditions.
But as soon as they need help the government takes charge; limits them
to a reservation; pays an annuity, furnishes medical attention, and so
on. This is called taking treaty. The Kakisas are one of the last wild
tribes left."

She seemed scarcely to hear him. "When are you going?" she asked with
the same air of breathlessness.

"As soon as the steamboat goes back."

"How far is it to Swan River?"

"Something under a hundred and fifty miles. Three days' hard riding or
four days' easy."

"And how far down to the great falls?"

"Accounts differ. From the known features of the map I should say about
two hundred miles. They say the river's as crooked as a ram's horn."

There was another silence. She was busy with her own thoughts, and
Stonor was content not to talk if he might look at her.

With her next speech she seemed to strike off at a tangent. She spoke
with a lightness that appeared to conceal a hint of pain. "They say the
mounted police are the guides, philosophers and friends of the people up
North. They say you have to do everything, from feeding babies to
reading the burial service."

"I'm afraid there's a good bit of romancing about the police," said
Stonor modestly.

"But they do make good friends, don't they?" she insisted.

"I hope so."

She gave him the full of her deep, starry eyes. It was not an
intoxicating glance, but one that moved him to the depths. "Will you be
my friend?" she asked simply.

Poor Stonor! With too great a need for speech, speech itself was
foundered. No words ever coined seemed strong enough to carry the weight
of his desire to assure her. He could only look at her, imploring her to
believe in him. In the end only two little words came; to him
wretchedly inadequate; but it is doubtful if they could have been
bettered.

"Try me!"

His look satisfied her. She lowered her eyes. The height of emotion was
too great to be maintained. She cast round in her mind for something to
let them down.