it in two days or three," he said. "I'll build a fire to
sleep by. You can give me a little grub if you want. I'll trade my
pocket-knife for it. It's all I've got. You got me into this, anyhow."

"No sell grub," she answered sullenly. "Give all you want if you come
with me."

"Very well, keep it then," he snapped, turning away.

Her face broke up again. "No, no! I not mad at you!" she cried
hurriedly. "I give you food. But wait; we got talk." She drove the
canoe on a mud-bank beyond the willows and scrambled out.

Sam, scowling and hardening at her approach, was careful to keep his
distance. He suspected her of a design to detain him by force.

"There's been too much talk," he growled. "You'd better hustle on
down. They'll be here soon."

"Sam, don' go!" she begged. "W'at you do at head of lake? Not get no
job but cook. Stay wit' me. We got boat and gun and blankets. We need
no more. I show you all w'at to do. I show you fishin' and huntin'.
When winter come I show you how to trap good fur. You will be rich
with me. I not bot'er you no more. I do everything you want."

In her distress Sam's angry eyes chose to see only chagrin at the
prospect of his escaping her. At the same time her beseeching face
filled him with a wild commotion that he would not recognize. His only
recourse lay in instant flight.

"Cut it out! What good does it do?" he cried harshly. "I tell you I'm
going to the head of the lake."

"All right, I tak' you there," she said eagerly. "More quick as you
can walk, too. Half a mile down the river there is a little backwater
to hide. We let those men go by and then come back. I do w'at you
want, Sam."

"Will you give me a little grub, or won't you?" he insisted. "I'd
rather starve than go with you!"

She burst into tears. "All right, I give you food," she said. She
turned back to the dugout, and, throwing back the cover of the
grub-box, put what bread and smoked fish she had left into a cotton
bag.

Sam awaited her, raging with that intolerable bitterness that a tender
and obstinate man feels at the sight of a woman's tears.

She offered him the little package of food, and a blanket as well.
"Tak' my ot'er blanket," she said humbly. "I can get more."

He impatiently shook his head, refusing to meet the lovely, imploring
eyes. "Here," he said, offering the pocket-knife. "For the food."

With a fresh burst of weeping she knocked it out of his hand, and
covered her face with her arm. Sam str