esently. His
manner was abstracted, and his eyes were watching the movements of the
third figure in the distance.

Bill glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes. It was a swift,
speculating glance. Then he continued his examination of the hatchet,
while he talked.

"Much of what lies back of most desperate acts," he said. "Guess the
Bell River folk have got something other folk need, and the other folk
know it. I allow the Bell River folk don't figger to hand over to
anybody. Maybe it's hunting grounds, maybe it's fishing. Can't say.
But you see this crowd are traveling Indians, or were," he added drily.
"We're within twenty miles of Bell River. If they were traveling,
which the remains of their teepees make them out to have been, then I
guess they weren't doing it for health. More than likely it was
robbery of some sort. Well, I guess they were up against a
proposition, and got it--plenty. It's going to snow. What are you
figgering?"

Kars searched the gray skies.

"We'll make Bell River."

"I guessed you would. Maybe some folks would say it's you that's
crazy. Ask Peigan."

Bill laughed. His clever face was always at its best when his
twinkling eyes, as it were, bubbled over.

The men moved on towards their camp.

The threat of the sky added to the gloomy nature of the crudely rugged
country. On every hand the hills rose mightily. Dark woodlands
crowded the lower slopes, but the sharply serrated crests, many of them
snow-clad, left a merciless impression upon the mind. The solitude of
it all, too, was overpowering.

The long summer trail lay behind them, all its chances successfully
taken, all its many dangers surmounted. The threat of the sky was real
and they had no desire now to fall victims to a careless disregard of
ordinary climatic conditions.

Kars' calculation had been carefully made. His plans were laid so that
they should reach the upper stream of the Snake River, where his river
depot had been established, and his canoes were awaiting them, with at
least three weeks to spare before the ice shut down all traffic. The
outfit would then have ample time in which to reach the shallows of
Peel River, whence the final stage of the journey to Leaping Horse
would be made overland on the early winter trail.

Peigan Charley joined them at the camp. The man came up with that
curiously silent, almost furtive gait, which no prairie Indian, however
civilized, ever quite loses.