Colina finally took it off, and pinned it in Marya’s cotton dress.  Marya gave way to an extravagant pantomime of joy.  Bowing her head, she seized Colina’s hand, and pressed it to her forehead.

Meanwhile they exchanged such simple remarks as lent themselves to the medium of signs.  Colina finally ventured to pronounce the name “Nesis” at the same time asking by a sign which included the teepees if she was there.

Marya looked startled.  She hesitated, but Colina’s hold was now strong upon her.  She shook her head.  First glancing cautiously around to make sure they were not observed, she nodded in the direction of up river.

By simple signs she told Colina that Nesis was in a village (crossed fingers for teepees) beside a lake (a wide sweep, and an agitated, flattened hand for shimmering water), and that it could be reached by a journey with one sleep upon the way. (Here she paddled an imaginary canoe, stopped, closed her eyes, inclined her head on her shoulder and held up one finger.)

Colina, overjoyed, proceeded to further question.  In the same graphic, simple way she learned the story of Ambrose’s imprisonment and how Nesis got him out.

“Come!” she cried, extending her hand.  “We’ll see what Sergeant Plaskett has to say to this!”

But when Marya understood that she was expected to repeat her story to the policeman, a frantic, stubborn terror took possession of her.  She gave Colina to understand in no uncertain signs that the Indians would kill her if she told the secret.

Colina, taking into account the pains they had gone to to keep it, could not deny the danger.  She finally asked Marya if she would take her, Colina, to the place where Nesis was.

Marya, terrified, positively refused.

Pulling off her gauntlet, Colina displayed to Marya a ring set with a gleaming opal.  It was Marya’s she let her understand, if she would serve her.

Marya’s eyes sickened with desire.  She wavered—­but finally refused with a little moan.  Terror was stronger than cupidity.

Colina debated with herself.  She asked Marya if the way to go was by paddling.

Marya shook her head.  She gave Colina to understand that the canoes were all tied up together and watched by the police.  She signed that the Kakisas had a few horses up the river a little way that the police did not know about.

They stole out of camp at dawn, caught a horse and rode up the river.  Evidently there was regular travel between the two villages.  Colina, thinking of the policeman’s confident belief that he had intercepted all communications, smiled.

Colina finally asked if Marya would put her on the trail to the other village—­in exchange for the ring.  Marya, after a struggle with her fears, consented, stipulating that they must start before dark.

Colina understood from her signs that the biggest opal ever mined would not tempt Marya to wander in the bush after dark.