As she searched the ragged edges of the little meadow for signs of the dog pup, her thoughts flashed back swiftly.  Two years ago they had buried her princess mother under the tall spruce near their cabin.  That day Pierrot’s sun had set for all time, and her own life became filled with a vast loneliness.  There had been three at the graveside that afternoon as the sun went down—­Pierrot, herself, and a dog, a great, powerful husky with a white star on his breast and a white-tipped ear.  He had been her dead mother’s pet from puppyhood—­her bodyguard, with her always, even with his head resting on the side of her bed as she died.  And that night, the night of the day they buried her, the dog had disappeared.  He had gone as quietly and as completely as her spirit.  No one ever saw him after that.  It was strange, and to Pierrot it was a miracle.  Deep in his heart he was filled with the wonderful conviction that the dog had gone with his beloved Wyola into heaven.

But Nepeese had spent three winters at the missioner’s school at Nelson House.  She had learned a great deal about white people and the real God, and she knew that Pierrot’s idea was impossible.  She believed that her mother’s husky was either dead or had joined the wolves.  Probably he had gone to the wolves.  So—­was it not possible that this youngster she and her father had pursued was of the flesh and blood of her mother’s pet?  It was more than possible.  The white star on his breast, the white-tipped ear—­the fact that he had not bitten her when he might easily have buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her arms!  She was convinced.  While Pierrot skinned the bear, she began hunting for Baree.

Baree had not moved an inch from under his rock.  He lay like a thing stunned, his eyes fixed steadily on the scene of the tragedy out in the meadow.  He had seen something that he would never forget—­even as he would never quite forget his mother and Kazan and the old windfall.  He had witnessed the death of the creature he had thought all-powerful.  Wakayoo, the big bear, had not even put up a fight.  Pierrot and Nepeese had killed him without touching him.  Now Pierrot was cutting him with a knife which shot silvery flashes in the sun; and Wakayoo made no movement.  It made Baree shiver, and he drew himself an inch farther back under the rock, where he was already wedged as if he had been shoved there by a strong hand.

He could see Nepeese.  She came straight back to the break through which his flight had taken him, and stood at last not more than twenty feet from where he was hidden.  Now that she stood where he could not escape, she began weaving her shining hair into two thick braids.  Baree had taken his eyes from Pierrot, and he watched her curiously.  He was not afraid now.  His nerves tingled.  In him a strange and growing force was struggling to solve a great mystery—­the reason for his desire to creep out from under his rock and approach that wonderful creature with the shining eyes and the beautiful hair.