he edge
of the lake, and Peter wagged his tail while Sun Cloud went out
knee-deep and scrubbed her pretty face with handfuls of the cool water.
It was a happy day for him. He was different from the Indian dogs, and
Sun Cloud and her playmates made much of him. But never, even in their
most exciting play, did he entirely lose track of his master.

Jolly Roger, to an extent, forgot Peter. He tried to deaden within him
the impulses which Yellow Bird's conjuring had roused. He tried to see
in them a menace and a danger, and he repeated to himself the folly of
placing credence in Yellow Bird's "medicine." But his efforts were
futile, and he was honest enough to admit it. The uneasiness was in his
breast. A new hope was rising up. And with that hope were fear and
suspense, for deep in him was growing stronger the conviction that what
Yellow Bird would tell him would be true. He noted the calm and
dignified stiffness with which Slim Buck greeted the day. The young
chief passed quietly among his people. A word traveled in whispers,
voices and footsteps were muffled and before the sun was an hour high
there was no tepee standing but one on that white strip of beach. And
the one tepee was Yellow Bird's.

Not until the camp was gone, leaving her alone, did Yellow Bird come
out into the day. She saw the food placed at her tepee door. She saw
the empty places where the homes of her people had stood, and in the
wet sand of the beach the marks of their missing canoes. Then she
turned her pale face and tired eyes to the sun, and unbraided her hair
so that it streamed glistening all about her and covered the white sand
when she sat down again in front of the smoke-darkened canvas that had
become her conjurer's house.

Two miles up the beach Slim Buck's people made another camp. But Slim
Buck and Jolly Roger remained in the cover of a wooded headland only
half a mile from Yellow Bird. They saw her when she came out. They
watched for an hour after she sat down in the sand. And then Slim Buck
grunted, and with a gesture of his hands said they would go. Jolly
Roger protested. It was not safe for Yellow Bird to remain entirely
beyond their protection. There were bears prowling about. And human
beasts occasionally found their way through the wilderness. But Slim
Buck's face was like a bronze carving in its faith and pride.

"Yellow Bird only goes with the good spirits," he assured Jolly Roger.
"She does not do witchcraft with the bad. And