The young man’s eyes darkened and his nostrils expanded with the excitement of this thought.

“Just let’s strike his trail!” he exclaimed.

“That’s all right,” agreed the woodsman, his eyes narrowing; “but how about the girl, then?”

But Dick exhibited no uneasiness.  He merely grinned broadly.

“Well, what about the girl?  That’s what I’ve been telling you.  Strikes me that’s one of your troubles.”

Half-satisfied, the veteran fell silent.  Shortly after he made an opportunity to speak to May-may-gwan.

“All is well, Little Sister?” he inquired.

“All is well,” she replied; “we have finished the parkas, the sledges, the snow-shoes, the blankets, and we have made much food.”

“And Jibiwanisi?”

“His foot is nearly healed.  Yesterday he walked to the Big Pool and back.  To-day, even this afternoon, Little Father, the Black Spirit left him so that he has been gay.”

Convinced that the restored good feeling was the result rather of Dick’s volatile nature than of too good an understanding, the old man left the subject.

“Little Sister,” he went on, “soon we are going to take the winter trail.  It may be that we will have to travel rapidly.  It may be that food will be scarce.  I think it best that you do not go with us.”

She looked up at him.

“These words I have expected,” she replied.  “I have heard the speech you have made with the Ojibway men you have met.  I have seen the preparations you have made.  I am not deceived.  You and Jibiwanisi are not looking for winter posts.  I do not know what it is you are after, but it is something you wish to conceal.  Since you have not told me, I know you wish to conceal it from me.  I did not know all this when I left Haukemah and his people.  That was a foolish thing.  It was done, and I do not know why.  But it was done, and it cannot be undone.  I could not go back to the people of Haukemah now; they would kill me.  Where else can I go?  I do not know where the Ojibways, my own people, live.”

“What do you expect to do, if you stay with me?” inquired Sam, curiously.

“You come from Conjuror’s House.  You tell the Indians you come from Winnipeg, but that is not so.  When you have finished your affairs, you will return to Conjuror’s House.  There I can enter the household of some officer.”

“But you cannot take the winter trail,” objected Sam.

“I am strong; I can take the winter trail.”

“And perhaps we may have to journey hard and fast.”

“As when one pursues an enemy,” said the girl, calmly.  “Good.  I am fleet.  I too can travel.  And if it comes to that, I will leave you without complaint when I can no longer tread your trail.”

“But the food,” objected Sam, still further.

“Consider, Little Father,” said May-may-gwan; “of the food I have prepared much; of the work, I have done much.  I have tended the traps, raised the nets, fashioned many things, attended Eagle-eye.  If I had not been here, then you, Little Father, could not have made your journeys.  So you have gained some time.”