rried him over the falls."

"How sad!" said Lumley. "What was the name of this white man?"

"He told us that his name was Weeum--but," said the Indian, turning
abruptly to Waboose, whose countenance betrayed feelings which were
obviously aroused by other matters than this reference to her lost
father, "my child has news of some sort. Let her speak."

Thus permitted, Waboose opened her lips for the first time--disclosing a
double row of bright little teeth in the act--and said that she had been
sent by her mother in search of Maqua and his son, as she had reason to
believe that the camp was in danger of being attacked by Dogrib Indians.

On hearing this, Maqua and Mozwa rose, picked up their weapons, and
without a word of explanation entered the bushes swiftly and
disappeared.

Big Otter looked after them for a moment or two in grave silence.

"You had better follow them," suggested Lumley. "If you should require
help, send a swift messenger back and we will come to you."

The Indian received this with a quiet inclination of the head, but made
no reply. Then, taking his niece by the hand, he led her into the
bushes where his relatives had entered and, like them, disappeared.

"It seems like a dream," said I to Lumley, as we all sat down again to
our steaks and marrow-bones.

"What seems like a dream, Max--the grub?"

"No, the girl."

"Truly, yes. And a very pleasant dream too. Almost as good as this
bone."

"Oh! you unsentimental, unsympathetic monster. Does not the sight of a
pretty young creature like that remind you of home, and all the sweet
refining influences shed around it by woman?"

"I cannot say that it does--hand me another; no, not a little thing like
that, a big one full of marrow, so--. You see, old boy, a band of beads
round the head, a sky-blue cloth bodice, a skirt of green flannel
reaching only to the knees, cloth leggings ornamented with porcupine
quills and moccasined feet, do not naturally suggest my respected mother
or sisters."

For the first time in our acquaintance I felt somewhat disgusted with my
friend's levity, and made no rejoinder. He looked at me quickly, with
slightly raised eyebrows, and gave a little laugh.

With a strong effort I crushed down my feelings, and said in a tone of
forced gaiety:--

"Well, well, things strike people in strangely different lights. I
thought not of the girl's costume but her countenance."

"Come, then, Max," returned my friend,