appened on the
trail, the thing which you and Nada didn't see. But now--"

For a moment he stood very still, and Peter sensed the sudden thrill
that was going through the man as he stood there in darkness. And then,
suddenly, Jolly Roger bent over him.

"Peter, there's three women we'll love as long as we live," he
whispered. "There's my mother, and she is dead. There's Nada back
there, and we'll never see her again--" His voice choked for an
instant. "And then--there's Yellow Bird--" he added. "It's five years
since I fed the tribe. Mebby they've had more kids! Boy, let's go and
see!"

CHAPTER X

North and west, in the direction of Yellow Bird's people, went Jolly
Roger and Peter after that night. They traveled slowly and cautiously,
and with each day Peter came to understand more clearly there was some
reason why they must be constantly on their guard. His master, he
noticed, was thrillingly attentive whenever a sound came to their
ears--perhaps the cracking of a twig, a mysterious movement of brush,
or the tread of a cloven hoof. And instinctively he came to know they
were evading Man. He remembered vividly their escape from Cassidy and
their quiet hiding for many days in the mass of sun-baked rocks which
Jolly Roger had called the Stew-Kettle. The same vigilance seemed to be
a part of his master's movements now. He did not laugh, or sing, or
whistle, or talk loudly. He built fires so small that at first Peter
was absorbed in an almost scientific analysis of them; and instead of
shooting game which could have been easily secured he set little snares
in the evening, and caught fish in the streams. At night they always
slept half a mile or more from the place where they had built their
tiny supper-fire. And during these hours of sleep Peter was ready to
rouse himself at the slightest sound of movement near them. Scarcely a
night passed that his low growl of warning did not bring Jolly Roger
out of his slumber, a hand on his gun, and his eyes and ears wide open.

Whether he would have used the gun had the red-coated police suddenly
appeared, McKay had not quite assured himself. Day after day the same
old fight went on within him. He analyzed his situation from every
point of view, and always--no matter how he went about it--eventually
found himself face to face with the same definite fact. If the law
succeeded in catching Him it would not trouble itself to punish him for
stealing back the Treaty Money, or