em. There was a moment's
dissembling as Shane returned the pistol to his pocket, then he greeted
her with a cheeriness which in no way deceived her.

She said nothing that might betray her comprehension of the situation,
but as soon as she could, retraced her steps to the cabin.

She knew now that while it was in her power to prevent it she could
never allow her men to put to sea in the unseaworthy whaleboat. One
chance in ten, Kayak had said. Even during the best weather they had
known on Kon Klayu she herself had seen a gale blow up in two hours.
One chance in ten. The words repeated themselves in her brain. And if
they did make the mainland--what then? "I don't need a gun. . . .
I'll do it with my hands on his throat!" . . . The clash between Shane
and the White Chief was inevitable now, no matter how the meeting came
about. She was enough of a frontier woman to appreciate this. She
would summon Kilbuck at once, before her men had a chance to risk their
lives, and when she had sent her message, she would tell Shane her
whole miserable story beginning with the night of the Potlatch dance.
He might lose faith in her; he might despise her, but she knew that he
would fight for her.

She took out pen and paper and sat before the table to write her
message to the White Chief. She must make it so urgent that he would
come at once before the whaleboat was launched again. She wrote
several, but discarded them. At last she was satisfied. Folding the
paper tightly she slipped it into the little finger of a thin kid glove
she had cut off for the purpose. Then she went out to the pigeon's
cage.

With the fluttering bird in her arms, she ascended the trail to the
Lookout. At the top the home-made flag flung its tatters out in the
sunshine. Ellen noted that it blew toward Katleean. The wind, then,
was favorable. The trader should have her message by morning. And in
two more days--she shook her head, not permitting herself to think
further.

A few minutes she stood looking seaward. Then she held the bird out in
both hands and with all her strength tossed it into the air.

Fluttering wildly, it recovered its balance, circled narrowly, rose a
few feet and--settled down on the tundra before her. It took a few
limping steps. Ellen was puzzled at its behavior. Perhaps she had
tied the message too tightly about its leg. She would readjust it and
urge the bird to flight again.

With outstretched hands she a