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"Ooo-oo, OOKIMOW JEEM--"
When Carvel returned to the fire, alone, his Colt in his hand, Baree was in front of the tepee waiting for him.
Carvel picked up a burning brand and entered the wigwam. When he came out his face was white. He tossed the brand in the fire, and went back to Nepeese. He had wrapped her in his blankets, and now he knelt down beside her and put his arms about her.
"He is dead, Nepeese."
"Dead, Ookimow Jeem?"
"Yes. Baree killed him."
She did not seem to breathe. Gently, with his lips in her hair. Carvel whispered his plans for their paradise.
"No one will know, my sweetheart. Tonight I will bury him and burn the tepee. Tomorrow we will start for Nelson House, where there is a missioner. And after that--we will come back--and I will build a new cabin where the old one burned. DO YOU LOVE ME, KA SAKAHET?"
"OM'--yes--Ookimow Jeem--I love you--"
Suddenly there came an interruption. Baree at last was giving his cry of triumph. It rose to the stars; it wailed over the roofs of the forests and filled the quiet skies--a wolfish howl of exultation, of achievement, of vengeance fulfilled. Its echoes died slowly away, and silence came again. A great peace whispered in the soft breath of the treetops. Out of the north came the mating call of a loon. About Carvel's shoulders the Willow's arms crept closer. And Carvel, out of his heart, thanked G.o.d.
