ess. They seemed to be
accusing her. They told her it was because of her that Roger McKay had
come in that winter of starvation and death, and had robbed and almost
killed, that she and Slim Buck and little Sun Cloud might live. That was
the beginning, and the thrill of it had got into the blood of Neekewa,
her "little white brother grown up." And now he was out there, alone
with his dog in the night--and the red-coated avengers of the law
were hunting him. They wanted him for many things, but chiefly for the
killing of a man.

Yellow Bird sat up, her little hands clenched about the thick braid of
Sun Cloud's hair. She had conjured with the spirits and had let the
soul go out of her body that she might learn the future for Neekewa, her
white brother. And they had told her that Roger McKay had done right to
think of killing.

Their voices had whispered to her that he would not suffer more than he
had already suffered--and that in the Country Beyond he would find
Nada the white girl, and happiness, and peace. Yellow Bird did not
disbelieve. Her faith was illimitable. The spirits would not lie. But
the unrest of the night was eating at her heart. She tried to
lift herself to the whisperings above the tepee top. But they were
unintelligible, like many voices mingling, and with them came a dull
fear into her soul.

She put out a hand, as if to rouse Slim Buck. Then she drew it back, and
placed Sun Cloud's braid away from her. She rose to her feet so quietly
that even in their restlessness they did not fully awake. Through the
tepee door she went, and stood up straight in the night, as if now she
might hear more clearly, and understand.

For a space she breathed in the oppressive something that was in the
air, and her eyes went east and west for sign of storm. But there was
no threat of storm. The clouds were drifting slowly and softly, with
starlight breaking through their rifts, and there was no moan of thunder
or wail of wind far away. Her heart, for a little, seemed to stop its
beating, and her hands clasped tightly at her breast. She began to
understand, and a strange thrill crept into her. The spirits had put a
great burden upon the night so that it might drive sleep from her eyes.
They were warning her. They were telling her of danger, approaching
swiftly, almost impending. And it was peril for the white man who was
sleeping somewhere near.

Swiftly she began seeking for him, her naked little brown feet making no