a rich prize; but he also saw Bela, whom
no human eyes could have discovered. He hoped she might go away. He
was prepared to wait until dark if necessary. However, the approach of
another two-legged figure along the beach behind him presently
compelled him to retreat down the other side of the dune.

Sam appeared trudging through the sand, bare-headed, coatless,
tight-lipped. His eyes likewise were fastened eagerly on the dead
goose. Reaching it, he stirred it with his foot. Dropping to his
knees, he smelled of it. So far so good. Presently he discovered the
cause of its death, a wing shattered by a bullet.

Seeing no tracks anywhere near, he concluded that it had fallen
wounded from the sky. As such it was treasure trove. He set to work to
gather bits of driftwood, and started a fire. His bright eyes and the
celerity of his movements testified to his hunger.

From her hiding-place Bela watched him with avid eyes. No mask on her
face now. The eyes brooded over him, over the fair hair, the bare
throat, the pale, hard young face, that showed the lassitude following
on violent anger.

Her whole spirit visibly yearned toward him--but she was learning
self-control in a hard school. When he began to pluck the goose she
set her teeth hard and stole silently away up-stream.

* * * * *

In the Indian village beside Hah-wah-sepi, little, crooked Musq'oosis
was squatting at the door of his teepee, making a fish net. This was
work his nimble fingers could still perform better than any in the
tribe. Meanwhile, he smoked and dwelt on the serene reminiscences of a
well-spent life.

While he worked and meditated nothing in the surrounding scene escaped
the glances of his keen, old eyes. For some time he had been aware of
a woman's figure hiding behind the willows across the stream, and he
knew it must be Bela, for there was no canoe on that side, but he
would not give her any sign.

In Musq'oosis, as in all his race, there was a coy streak. Let the
other person make the first move was his guiding maxim.

Finally the mournful, idiotic cry of a loon was raised across the
stream. This was a signal they had used before. Musq'oosis started
with well-simulated surprise, in case she should be watching him, and,
rising, waddled soberly to his dugout. Nobody in the village above
paid any particular attention to him. He crossed the stream.

Bela stepped into the bow of his boat. No greeting was exchange