I heard him say this; Major Hoops heard him also.  So I supposed that Boyd would obey these orders to the letter.

When the mounted party had moved away, Boyd and I went back to the fire and lay down on our blankets.  We were on the edge of the trees; it was still daylight; the pioneers were still at work; and my Indians were freshening their paint, rebraiding their scalp-locks, and shining up hatchet, rifle, and knife.

“Look at those bloodhounds,” muttered Boyd.  “They did not hear what we were talking about, but they know by premonition.”

“I do not have any faith in premonitions,” said I.

“Why?”

“I have dreamed I was scalped, and my hair still grows.”

“You are not out of the woods yet,” he said, sombrely.

“That does not worry me.”

“Nor me.  Yet, I do believe in premonition.”

“That is old wives’ babble.”

“Maybe, Loskiel.  Yet, I know I shall not leave this wilderness alive.”

“Lord!” said I, attempting to jest.  “You should set up as a rival to
Amochol and tell us all our fortunes.”

He smiled—­ and the effort distorted his pale, handsome face.

“I think it will happen at Chinisee,” he said quietly.

“What will happen?”

“The end of the world for me, Loskiel.”

“It is not like you, Boyd, to speak in such a manner.  Only lately have I ever heard from you a single note of such foreboding.”

“Only lately have I been dowered with the ominous clairvoyance.  I am changed, Loskiel.”

“Not in courage.”

“No,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders that set ruffles and thrums a-dancing on his rifle-dress.

We were silent for a while, watching the Indians at their polishing.  Then he said in a low but pleasant voice: 

“How proud and happy must you be with your affianced.  What a splendour of happiness lies before you both!  An unblemished past, an innocent passion, a future stretching out unstained before you—­ what more can God bestow on man and maid?...  May bright angels guard you both, Loskiel.”

I made to thank him for the wish, but suddenly found I could not control my voice, so lay there in silence and with throat contracted, looking at this man whose marred young life lay all behind him, and whose future, even to me, lowered strangely and ominously veiled.

And as we lay there, into our fire-circle came a dusty, mud-splashed, and naked runner, plucking from his light skin-pouch two letters, one for Boyd and one for me.

I read mine by the flickering fire; it was dated from Tioga Point: 

“Euan Loskiel, my honoured and affianced husband, and my lover, worshipped and adored, I send you by this runner my dearest affections, my duties, and my most sacred sentiments.

“You must know that this day we have arrived at the Fort at Tioga Point without any accident or mischance of any description, and, indeed, not encountering one living creature between Catharines-town and this post.