hungry as a mountain bear. I thought the old man would never finish talking of the times we've had together."
He would tell them nothing more. There was nothing more to tell, he insisted; Aganuntsi had talked only of the old days. But to Jolie there came again a sense of crisis, of disaster close at hand.
At last the meal was over; the pipes were smoked in the gathering dusk. Little Mink and Striking Hawk returned from their hunting and scouting, bringing with them a turkey and two grouse. With the round moon bathing the mountain top in ghostly light, Jolie bade them all good-night and lay down on the couch of boughs in her little hut.
She had scarcely gone when Almayne, remarking that he wished to have a look at the horses, knecked out his pipe and arose. Lachlan caught an almest imperceptible movement of the hunter's head, and when Almayne walked towards the trail leading to the spring, Lachlan followed him. Out of sight and earshot of the camp, the hunter halted and turned.
Lachlan saw his face in the moonlight, stared at it wide-eyed, and gripped his arm.
"In God's name, Almayne!" he exclaimed. "What's amiss?"
"The worst," Almayne answered in a harsh whisper. "Barradell is false to her."
