and Pierre Couchee.
He was completely baffled. The sixth day he spent in the cabin with
Gregson. On the morning of the seventh there came from far out over the
Bay the hollow booming of a cannon.

It was the signal which for two hundred years the ships from over the
sea had given to the people of Churchill.

By the time the two young men had finished their breakfasts and climbed
to the top of the ridge overlooking the Bay, the vessel had dropped
anchor half a mile off shore, where she rode safe from the rocks at low
tide. Along the shore below them, where Churchill lay, the forest
people were gathered in silent, waiting groups. Philip pointed to the
factor's big York boat, already two-thirds of the way to the ship.

"We should have gone with Bludsoe," he said. "Brokaw will think this a
shabby reception on our part, and Miss Brokaw won't be half flattered.
We'll go down and get a good position on the pier."

Fifteen minutes later they were thrusting themselves through the crowd
of men, women, children, and dogs congregated at the foot of the long
stone pier alongside which the ship would lie for two or three hours at
each high tide. Philip stopped among a number of Crees and half-breeds,
and laid a detaining hand upon Gregson's arm.

"This is near enough, if you don't want to make yourself conspicuous,"
he said.

The York boat was returning. Philip pulled a cigar from his pocket and
lighted it. He felt his heart throbbing excitedly as the boat drew
nearer. He looked at Gregson. The artist was taking short, quick puffs
on his cigarette, and Philip wondered at the evident eagerness with
which he was watching the approaching craft.

Until the boat ran close up under the pier its sail hid the occupants.
While the canvas still fluttered in the light wind Bludsoe sprang from
the bow out upon the rocks with a rope. Three or four of his men
followed. With a rattle of blocks and rings the sheet dropped like a
huge white curtain, and Philip took a step forward, scarce restraining
the exclamation that forced itself to his lips at the picture which it
revealed. Standing on the broad rail, her slender form poised for the
quick upward step, one hand extended to Bludsoe, was Eileen Brokaw! In
another instant she was upon the pier, facing the strange people before
her, while her father clambered out of the boat behind. There was a
smile of expectancy on her lips as she scanned the dark, silent faces
of the forest people. Philip