d the Indian. "There is no
blood on the ground; no sign of a struggle. The tent-poles are not
thrown down; the ashes of the fires have not been scattered. This would
not have been so if there had been a fight. Keep up heart, Adolay!" he
added, turning to the weeping girl; "no evil can have come to our
people, for they have left of their own will for a new camp; but I am
perplexed, for this is the best place in all the Dogrib lands for a
village, and we had lived long here in contentment."

"But if that be so, there must be good reason for their having left,"
suggested Cheenbuk.

"Good reason--yes, the men-of-the-woods never act without good reason."

"My father may be perplexed about reasons," continued the Eskimo, "but
surely he will have no difficulty in finding his people, for are not the
men-of-the-woods good at following up a trail?"

"Truly you say what is true. It will be easy to find and follow the
trail of a whole tribe," returned Nazinred, with a smile. "But it is
disappointing to find that they have forsaken the old place, and it may
be many days before we find them."

"Father!" exclaimed Adolay at this point, a bright look overspreading
her features, "mother must have left some sign on a piece of bark, as I
did at Waruskeek."

"I had expected as much," said the Indian, looking round the camp, "and
I had thought to find it here."

"Not here," returned the girl, with a soft laugh; "you don't know mother
as well as I do! There is a tree, under the shade of which she and I
used to work when the days were long. If there is a message anywhere,
it is there."

She bounded away as she spoke, like a fawn, and in a few minutes
returned with a piece of bark in her hand.

"Here it is, father. I knew it would be there. Let us sit down now and
make it out."

Sitting down beside the cold hearth of the old home, father and child
began to spell out Isquay's letter, while Cheenbuk looked on in admiring
silence and listened.

The letter bore a strong family likeness to that which had formerly been
written--or drawn--by Adolay at Waruskeek, showing clearly whence the
girl had derived her talent.

"The hand at the top points the way clear enough," said the Indian, "but
were you careful to observe the direction before you moved it?"

"Of course I was, father. I'm not a baby now," returned the girl, with
a laugh and a glance at Cheenbuk.

"That you certainly are not!" thought the Eskimo, with a look of