body of men, but if the half-breeds and Indians get on
the war-path, they'll swamp the lot, and--"

"Shoo!" interrupted the giant, again looking at the girl,
but this time with unmistakable alarm on his face. "Them
Injuns ain't going to eat us. You've been a good friend
to them and to the metis. So!"

Jacques St. Arnaud had been in the rancher's service
since before the latter's child had been born down in
Ontario, some eighteen years ago, and followed him into
the great North-West to help conquer the wilderness and
establish his new home. He had a big heart in a large
body, and his great ambition was to be considered a rather
terrible and knowing fellow, while, as a matter of fact,
he was the most inoffensive of mortals, and as simple in
some ways as a child.

"Bah!" he continued after a pause, "the metis are
ungrateful dogs, and the Indians, they are mad also. I
would like to take them one by one and wring their
necks--so!"

The rancher tried to conceal the concern he felt. His
fifty odd years sat lightly upon him, although his hair
was grey. His daughter had only been back from Ontario
for two years, but in that time she had bulked so largely
in his life that he wondered now how he could ever have
got along without her. She reminded him of that helpmate
and wife who had gone hence a few years after her daughter