“Ev’ry tam feel what is under your foot before step hard.”

She did not make directly for the river, but led him step by step up the hill toward a growth of timber that promised safety.  The first hundred yards was the most difficult.

They rose above the shack into the line of vision of the guards in front, had they elevated their eyes.  Nesis, crouching, moved like a cat after a bird.

Ambrose followed, scarcely daring to breathe.  Even the dog understood and lay as if dead in Ambrose’s arms.

The danger decreased with every step.  When they gained the trees they could fairly count themselves safe.  Even if an alarm were raised now it would take time to find them in the dark.

Nesis, still leading Ambrose, pattered ahead as if every twig in the bush was familiar to her.  She did not strike down to the river until they had gone a good way around the side of the hill.

This brought them to the water’s edge at a point a third of a mile or more below the teepees.  Ambrose distinguished a bark canoe drawn up beneath the willows.  In it lay the outfit she had provided.

He put it in the water, and Job hopped into his accustomed place in the bow.

“You love that dog ver’ moch,” Nesis murmured jealously.

“He’s all I’ve got,” said Ambrose.

Her hand swiftly sought his.

“Tell me how I should go,” said Ambrose hastily, fearing a demonstration.

Nesis drew a long sigh.  “I tell you,” she said sadly.  “They say it is four sleeps to the big falls.  Two sleeps by quiet water.  Many bad rapids after that.  You mus’ land by every rapid to look.  They say the falls mak’ no noise before they catch you.  Ah! tak’ care!”

“I know rivers,” said Ambrose.

“They say under the water is a cave with white bones pile up!” she faltered.  “They say my fat’er is there.  I ’fraid for you to go!”

“I’ll be careful,” he said lightly.  “Don’t you worry!”

“At the falls,” she went on sadly, “you mus’ land on the side away from the sun, and carry your canoe on your back.  There is pretty good trail.  Three miles.  After that one more sleep to the big lake.  A Company fort is there.”

Like an honest man he dreaded the mere formulas of thanks at such a moment, but neither could an honest man forego them.  “How can I ever repay you!” he mumbled.

She clapped a warm hand over his mouth.

As he was about to step in the canoe Ambrose saw a bundle lying on the ground to one side that he had not remarked before.  “What is that?” he asked.

“Nothing for you,” she said quickly.

The evasive note made him insist upon knowing.

For a long time she would not tell, thus increasing his determination to find out.  Finally she said very low:  “I jus’ foolish.  I think maybe—­maybe you want tak’ me too!”

Ambrose’s heart was wrung.  His arm went around her with a right good will.  “You poor baby!” he murmured.  “I can’t!”