he cramped
position he had so long maintained.

Standing on the bank he surveyed the river carefully. Except for a
drifting log there was nothing moving on its wide expanse. He listened
intently. The soft wind was blowing down river, but it did not bring
with it the throb of a steamer's screw which he half expected to hear.
He nodded to himself.

"Time enough!"

Then he became aware of sounds for which he had not listened--the
voices of men somewhere in the post's enclosure, and, nearer at hand,
that of some one singing in some soft Indian dialect. He turned
swiftly, and coming along a half-defined path between the willows,
caught sight of the singer--a native girl of amazing beauty.

She wore a tunic of beaded caribou-skin, which fitting closely revealed
rather than concealed the lines of her lithe young figure. Her face was
light-bronze in colour, every feature clearly cut as a cameo, the
forehead smooth and high, the nose delicately aquiline, the lips a
perfect cupid's bow, the eyebrows high and arched. The eyes themselves
were soft and dark and had the wildness of the wilderness-born, whilst
the hair, black and luminous as the raven's wing, crisped in curls
instead of hanging in the straight plaits of the ordinary native woman.
She moved forward slowly with graceful stride of one whose feet had
never known the cramping of civilized foot-gear, tall and straight and
as royal-looking as Eve must have been when she left the hand of God.

To the man, as he stood there, she seemed like an incarnate spirit of
the wilds, like the soft breath of the Northland spring, like----

Similes failed him of the suddenest, for in that instant the girl grew
aware of him and checked her stride and song at the same moment. For a
fraction of time they stood there looking at each other, the man of the
white dominant race, the girl of a vanishing people, whose origin is
shrouded in the grey mists of time. There was wonder on the man's face,
for never had he seen such beauty in a native, and on the girl's face
there was a startled look such as the forest doe shows when the wind
brings the breath of a presence that it does not see. Then the delicate
nostrils quivered, the soft dark eyes kindled with sudden flame, and
the rich blood surged in the bronze face from chin to brow. Almost
unconsciously the man took a step forward. But at that the girl,
turning suddenly, fled between the willows like the creature of the
wild she was, and the