was at work.

He passed within the crude storehouse. He had not come out of any
curiosity. He had not come to contemplate the havoc wrought on the
bodies of this flotsam of dissolute life. He had come for the simple
purpose of offering some cheer in the darkness of suffering.

For all the ruggedness of exterior displayed by this man when the call
of the northern wilderness claimed him, deep in his heart there were
warm fires glowing which the bond of loyal comradeship never failed to
fan. These Breeds and scallawag Indians were no less to him for their
color, or their morals. They were fighters--fighters of the trail like
himself. It was enough.

A desultory rifle fire played over the camp. It was the signal of
passing day. It was a reminder that the day's cessation of hostilities
marked no abatement in the enemy's purpose. The defence was at its
post. A long line of rifles held their vicious muzzles searching for a
target that would repay. Wastage of ammunition was strictly forbidden.
The night, like its predecessor, was obscure. The targets were far
off, and, as yet, invisible. So the defence remained unanswering, but
ready.

Beyond the new defences on the river front a shadowy figure was
stirring. His movements were stealthy. His moccasined feet gave out
no sound. But there was sound. It was the muffled grating of
something being slid over the gravelly beach at the water's edge. Then
came a gentle splash of water. It was scarcely more than the sound of
a leaping fish. After that came the lapping of the stream against an
obstruction to its course.

The figure stood up, tall and slim. The rawhide rope in his hand
strung taut. A moment later he secured the end of it by the simple
process of resting a small boulder upon its knotted extremity.

The canoe had swung to the stream and lay in against the river bank.
The silent figure stooped over its gunwale and deposited various
articles within its shallow depths. It was the merest cockle-shell of
stoutly strutted bark, a product of the northland Indian which leaves
modern invention far behind in the purpose for which it is designed.

The sound of a footstep on the beach drew the crouching figure to its
full height. Then, at the sound of a familiar voice, all suspicion
died out.

"All fixed right, Charley?"

"Sho', boss. Him fix plenty good."

"Got sow-belly an'--hardtack? Maybe you'll need him. Gun? Plenty
cartridge?"

"Him plent