scued her without this horse-play, but the sight of
her in the arms of a human chimpanzee, who knew no morality but that of
the cave-man, had aroused all the innate fury within him. After all, he
loved her! Even though she despised him, and preferred the company of
licentious beachcombers, he worshiped her. The very thought seemed to mock
at him from within.

"Do I have to yank you back, or will you come freely?" he said in a low
voice.

"I'll come," she replied.

They walked back to the tent in silence. She noticed that the note had
gone from the flap. How he had tracked her down was a mystery. He
refrained from mentioning the adventure, but she saw that it had had a
great effect upon him. He ate no supper, but sat smoking through the
mosquito-netting, gazing pensively at the starry heavens. When they
retired he uttered his customary "Good-night, Angela."

"Good-night," she replied.

The next morning found him busy caulking a big flat-bottomed boat, which
was already half laden with stores. She looked at him inquiringly.

"Going down the river," he informed her. "I've staked two claims along a
creek called 'Red Ruin.'"

"Is it far?"

"Matter of five miles."

"A-ah!"

The remaining gear was placed in the boat. Angela took a seat in the bows
whilst Jim threw his weight on the pole, the sole means of propulsion.
There was a loud crack, and the punter was almost thrown over the side as
the rotten pole broke in the middle. The strong current sent the craft
whirling down-stream. Jim grabbed a coil of rope, made it fast to a
ring-bolt, and went over the side. He reached the bank and pulled the
craft inshore.

"Throw out the ax. I'll go cut a new pole."

She handed him the weapon, keen as a razor, and watched him tramp up the
steep bank. A slight breeze shifted the mist from the sprawling, muddy
river and the sun clove through. An isolated mass of ice swirled along,
melting as it went. A small island in the center of the stream was gashed
and scoured by the recent ice-flow. Trees along the bank had been shorn
clear by the enormous pressure of the bergs as they fought their way to
freedom. She was sitting thinking of the inscrutable future when a canoe
hove into sight. The occupants--two Indians and a white man--were driving
it up-stream at amazing speed, considering the fact that the down current
was running at a speed of at least five knots. They were passing her,
scarcely a dozen yards distant, when she gave