king no offer
to get up. It was clear to her from the pleading fear in the one word
they answered to whatever she said, that they had come here to hide from
the fury of the next room; and as she stood listening to this she would
have let them remain, but their escape had been noticed. A man burst
into the room, and at sight of her and Nancy stopped, and was blundering
excuses, when Jake caught his arm and had dragged him almost out, but he
saw the two on the floor; at this, getting himself free, he half swept
the crouching figures with his boot as they fled out of the room, and
the door was swung shut. Mrs. Clallam heard his violent words to the
squaws for daring to disturb the strangers, and there followed the heavy
lashing of a quirt, with screams and lamenting. No trouble came from the
Indian husbands, for they were stupefied on the ground, and when their
intelligences quickened enough for them to move, the punishment was
long over and no one in the house awake but Elizabeth and Nancy, seated
together in their bed, watching for the day. Mother and daughter heard
them rise to go out one by one, and the hoof-beats of their horses grew
distant up and down the river. As the rustling trees lighted and turned
transparent in the rising sun, Jake roused those that remained and got
them away. Later he knocked at the door.

"I hev a little raft fixed this morning," said he, "and I guess we can
swim the wagon over here."

"Whatever's quickest to take us from this place," Elizabeth answered.

"Breakfast'll be ready, ma'am, whenever you say."

"I am ready now. I shall want to start ferrying our things--Where's Mr.
Clallam? Tell him to come here."

"I will, ma'am. I'm sorry--"

"Tell Mr. Clallam to come here, please."

John had slept sound in his haystack, and heard nothing. "Well," he
said, after comforting his wife and Nancy, "you were better off in the
room, anyway. I'd not blame him so, Liza. How was he going to help it?"

But Elizabeth was a woman, and just now saw one thing alone: if selling
whiskey led to such things in this country, the man who sold it was much
worse than any mere law-breaker. John Clallam, being now a long time
married, made no argument. He was looking absently at the open drawer of
a table. "That's queer," he said, and picked up a tintype.

She had no curiosity for anything in that room, and he laid it in the
drawer again, his thoughts being taken up with the next step of their
journey, and wha