cted to
throw down and back the lever which should lift the cartridge from the
magazine.

Instantly the caribou snorted aloud and crashed noisily away. A dozen
lurking Canada jays jumped to the tops of spruces and began to scream.
Red squirrels, in all directions, alternately whirred their rattles and
chattered in an ecstasy of rage. The forest was alarmed.

Crooked Nose glanced at the westering sun, and set out swiftly in a
direct line for the camp of his companions. Arrived there he marched
theatrically to the white men, cast the borrowed rifle at their feet,
and returned to the side of the fire, where he squatted impassively on
his heels. The hunt had failed.

All the rest of the afternoon the men talked sullenly together. There
could be no doubt that trouble was afoot. Toward night some of the
younger members grew so bold as to cast fierce looks in the direction
of the white visitors.

Finally late in the evening old Haukemah came to them. For some time he
sat silent and grave, smoking his pipe, and staring solemnly into the
coals.

"Little Father," said he at last, "you and I are old men. Our blood is
cool. We do not act quickly. But other men are young. Their blood is hot
and swift, and it is quick to bring them spirit-thoughts[4]. They say
you have made the wind, kee-way-din, the north wind, to blow so that we
can have no game. They say you conjured Crooked Nose so that he brought
back no caribou, although he came very near it. They say, too, that you
seek a red man to do him a harm, and their hearts are evil toward you on
that account. They say you have made the power of the old-men as
nothing, for what they commanded you denied when you brought our little
sister in your canoe. I know nothing of these things, except the last,
which was foolishness in the doing," the old man glanced sharply at
Dick, puffed on his nearly extinguished pipe until it was well alight,
and went on. "My brothers say they are looking places for winter posts;
I believe them. They say their hearts are kind toward my people; I
believe them. Kee-way-din, the north wind, has many times before blown
up the river, and Crooked Nose is a fool. My heart is good toward you,
but it is not the heart of my young men. They murmur and threaten. Here
our trails fork. My brothers must go now their own way."

[Footnote 4: Fancies.]

"Good," replied Sam, after a moment. "I am glad my brother's heart is
good toward me, and I know what young men are.