llow. The instant he stood back she flung herself forward on the rope,
but the jerk on her arms must have nearly dislocated them. It brought a
shriek of pain from her. She came to a standstill, sobbing for breath.

Stonor collected dead twigs, and blew on the embers. In a minute or two
he had a bright blaze, and turned, full of curiosity to see what he had
got. He saw a breed woman of forty years or more, still, for a wonder,
uncommonly handsome and well-formed. The pure hatred that distorted her
features could not conceal her good looks. She had the fine straight
features of her white forebears, and her dusky cheeks flamed with
colour. She bore herself with a proud, savage grace.

More than the woman herself, her attire excited Stonor's wonder. It was
a white woman's get-up. Her dress, though of plain black cotton, was cut
with a certain regard to the prevailing style. She wore corsets--strange
phenomenon! Stonor had already discovered it before he got a look at
her. Her hair had been done on top of her head in a white woman's
fashion, though it was pretty well down now. Strangest of all, she wore
gold jewellery; rings on her fingers and drops in her ears; a showy gold
locket hanging from a chain around her neck. On the whole a surprising
apparition to find on the banks of the unexplored river.

Stonor, studying her, reflected that this was no doubt the woman he had
seen with Imbrie at Carcajou Point two months before. The Indians had
referred to her derisively as his "old woman." But it was strange he had
heard nothing of her from the Kakisas. She must have been concealed in
the very tepee from which Imbrie had issued on the occasion of Stonor's
first visit to the village at Swan Lake. The Indians down the river had
never mentioned her. He was sure she could not have lived with Imbrie
down there. Where, then, had he picked her up? Where had she been while
Imbrie was down there? How had she got into the country anyway? The more
he thought of it the more puzzling it was. Certainly she had come from
far; Stonor was well assured he would have heard of so striking a
personage as this anywhere within his own bailiwick.

Another thought suddenly occurred to him. This of course would be the
woman who had tried to decoy him out of his camp with her cries for help
in English. At least she explained that bit of the all-enveloping
mystery.

"Well, here's a pretty how-de-do!" said Stonor with grim humour. "Who
are you?"

She