"Don't forget. Two hours. The sun on
the water. I come."

Keeko turned away up the rising foreshore in the direction of the long,
low building of the fort.

Once she was beyond the observation of the Indian's keen eyes her whole
expression underwent a change. The light died out of her eyes and a deep
anxiety replaced it. She was torn by conflicting feelings. The desire of
the trail had grown to a passion. The immense solitudes of the great
forests were the paradise she dreamed of during the long dark days of
winter. But deep in her heart there were other feelings that preoccupied
her no less.

Her mother was sick, sick to death with the ravages of consumption, on a
bed from which she would only be removed for a grave somewhere in the
shadows of the surrounding woods. And she loved her mother. She loved
her mother with a passionate devotion.

It was the thought of all that might happen during her prolonged absence
that robbed Keeko's eyes of their buoyant light and happy smile.
But--what could she do? She must go. She knew she must go. It had all
been arranged between her and her mother. And with each season her work
became more urgent.

As she passed up to the fort her mind had leapt back to the early days
when she had reached full young womanhood. And a scene that lived in her
memory came back again to urge her, as it never failed to urge her at
such moments.

It was one of the many times that her mother had hovered at the brink of
the grave. She and her step-father had shared the watch at the sick-bed.
Up till that time the man had displayed no regard for herself but the
treatment he would bestow upon an unwelcome burden on his life. There
had been a bitter antagonism on his part, an antagonism that suggested
positive hatred. But while they sat watching the closed, sunken eyes and
waxen features of her mother, as she lay gasping in what seemed to be
the last throes before collapse, an amazing change seemed to take place
in him. His whole attitude towards herself appeared to alter. It became
impressive in its kindliness and solicitude. He seemed suddenly to have
become far more tenderly thoughtful for her welfare than for the wife
who lay dying before his eyes. And when he spoke--But his words and
tones did more than disturb her. It was at the sound of them that the
almost dead eyes of her mother opened wide and turned a dreadful stare
upon him. For minutes it seemed they stared while the ashen lips
remained s