Console yourself, as do I, with--memories."
And McElroy would say nothing, trying in his heart to hold back his
wrath against this man for whose death he was to be responsible.
So went the uneven chase. Day's march of the savages and night's rest
on the green shores, mummying fires in the big tepee and the captives
lying in the sleep of exhaustion with one guard pacing the lodge
opening,--day's pursuit of the lone canoe, brief landings for tea made
at a micmac fire, scanning of lake and river and forest, night's
unceasing forging .ahead with Maren asleep in the prow, her head on
Dupre's blanket.
When the last hard portage was made which carried them into Deer River,
the girl looked to the west with a sudden fire of the old passion in
her eyes.
"So, M'sieu?" she said to Dupre, "it lies yonder, the Land of the
Whispering Hills? Would God our course lay there!"
And Dupre, wondering, answered, "Aye, at the Athabasca," for it was to
McElroy alone that she had uncovered her soul concerning the great
quest.
In Deer River the signs began to be plainer and fresher, showing the
passing of the Indians,--here a camp but two days deserted, there
scraps of refuse not yet cleared away by forest scavengers, and the
pursuers knew they drew close to danger and excitement.
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