sis. Any person who could rivet
one with a gaze like that, he thought, was worth watching. For
fully ten minutes, she raved, scattering words with prodigal
recklessness. McTavish did not listen to the abuse. He was thinking
of other things. Presently, she flung herself out of the tent, with
a final shriek, and the man acted at once.

He fastened on his snowshoes and crawled awkwardly out on all-fours
after her. In the driving, blinding snow, he could just see her
small figure, dimly. He followed it. The involuntary motion of
Maria's hand to her bosom was the one thing that he had needed. He
had been afraid that some split tree, or hollow beneath a rock,
might contain the thing he wanted; now, he was certain that she
carried it upon her person.

On he went, away from the camp, of which the circle of tents was
almost buried. Donald, veering from the path, since it might lead
to an embarrassing encounter, kept his quarry always in sight, and
followed. Was the woman crazy, he wondered, that she should wander
aimlessly out into a death-dealing storm? But, at last, when he
was on the point of turning back for fear of losing his location
entirely, Maria came to the foot of an unusually large tree, and
halted. The pursuer dropped behind a little drift he had just
started to mount, and waited. If this were her destination, he knew
she would peer about. A moment later, his suspicions were verified.
But, In the quick glance of her keen eyes, she passed over the
practically invisible snow-covered form that lay so near her. When
the man raised his head again, she had turned her attention to the
tree, and had pulled open a little, low door that allowed her to
crawl into the very heart of the trunk. A moment later, the door
swung to, and Maria apparently was no more.

McTavish did not wonder now why he had seen her so seldom in the
camp. No doubt, she had her own supply of food safe inside, and
did not come out until hunger or her inclination prompted. He looked
at the tree to mark it in his mind, and observed that it was tall
and bare, with practically no needles or foliage of any sort. Huge
bumps and broken limbs made it one in a thousand. On the leeward
side of the tree, he thought he noticed a glow of light. He brushed
the snow from his eyes, and looked again. This time, he was sure.
He guessed that this was an air-hole bored through the wall of the
trunk, and that Maria was building a fire inside. For a moment, he
envied her