" she mused, recalling poetry learned in her girlhood. "'A rose
by any other name would smell as sweet'.... He's an Isbel--yet he might
be splendid--noble.... Bah! he's not--and I'd hate him anyhow."

All at once Ellen felt cold shivers steal over her. Isbel's piercing
gaze was directed straight at her hiding place. Her heart stopped
beating. If he discovered her there she felt that she would die of
shame. Then she became aware that a blue jay was screeching in a pine
above her, and a red squirrel somewhere near was chattering his shrill
annoyance. These two denizens of the woods could be depended upon to
espy the wariest hunter and make known his presence to their kind.
Ellen had a moment of more than dread. This keen-eyed, keen-eared
Indian might see right through her brushy covert, might hear the
throbbing of her heart. It relieved her immeasurably to see him turn
away and take to pacing the promontory, with his head bowed and his
hands behind his back. He had stopped looking off into the forest.
Presently he wheeled to the west, and by the light upon his face Ellen
saw that the time was near sunset. Turkeys were beginning to gobble
back on the ridge.

Isbel walked to his horse and appeared to be untying something from the
back of his saddle. When he came back Ellen saw that he carried a
small package apparently wrapped in paper. With this under his arm he
strode off in the direction of Ellen's camp and soon disappeared in the
forest.

For a little while Ellen lay there in bewilderment. If she had made
conjectures before, they were now multiplied. Where was Jean Isbel
going? Ellen sat up suddenly. "Well, shore this heah beats me," she
said. "What did he have in that package? What was he goin' to do with
it?"

It took no little will power to hold her there when she wanted to steal
after him through the woods and find out what he meant. But his
reputation influenced even her and she refused to pit her cunning in
the forest against his. It would be better to wait until he returned
to his horse. Thus decided, she lay back again in her covert and gave
her mind over to pondering curiosity. Sooner than she expected she
espied Isbel approaching through the forest, empty handed. He had not
taken his rifle. Ellen averted her glance a moment and thrilled to see
the rifle leaning against a rock. Verily Jean Isbel had been far
removed from hostile intent that day. She watched him stride swiftly
up t