ing no proof of guilt, and because, moreover, their tales were
often true, there could be no punishment, except the covert condemnation
of their fellows or the secret vengeance of kinsman or friend in the
guise of a shot from the "bush" or knife thrust in the dark. He recalled
the cases he knew or which he had heard discussed over many a camp-fire,
of men on the East Coast, sole survivors of starvation camps, who would
go to their graves privately branded as murderers by their fellows.

Grim tales of his father returned to him; of the half-breed from
Nichicun who, it was commonly believed, had eaten his partner; of Crees
who had appeared in the spring at the posts without parents, or wives
and children, to tell conflicting stories of death through disease or
starvation; of the Frenchman at Mistassini--still a valued servant of
the Company--who was known from Fort Albany to Whale River and from
Rupert to the Peribonka, as the squaw-man who saved himself on the
Fading Waters by deserting his Montagnais girl wife. These and many
more, through lack of any proof of guilt, had escaped the long arm of
the government which, through the fur-posts, reached to the uttermost
valleys of the north.

And so it must have been with Jean Marcel, however suspicious his story,
had he buried Antoine somewhere in the snow, as he had Piquet, instead
of lashing the body on the cache with its telltale death wound. As it
was he already saw himself, though innocent, condemned in the court of
Cree opinion as the slayer of his friend.

As he came to a realization of how his case would look, even to the
whites at Whale River, he cursed the dead man Piquet for bringing all
this upon a guiltless man--for leaving him this black legacy of
suspicion.

Well, he swore to himself, they should believe his story at the post,
for it was the truth; and if any man, white or red, openly doubted his
innocence, he would have to answer to Jean Marcel. To be branded on the
East Coast as the assassin of his partners was a bitter draught for the
palate of the proud Frenchman. For generations the Marcels had borne an
honored name in the Company's service and now for the last of them to be
suspected of foul murder, was disgrace unthinkable.

So ran his thoughts as he hurried back over the trail to his camp. Of
one thing he felt sure. The situation brought about by the visit of the
Crees demanded his presence at the post as soon after their arrival as
his paddle coul