commanded that I take the Long Way, and who am I that I should not obey?
It cannot be."

"Get in here," ordered Dick, obstinately.

"My brother is good to me, but I cannot, for the head men have ordered.
It would go very hard with me, if I should disobey."

"Oh, hell!" exploded petulant Dick in English, slamming his paddle down
against the thwarts.

He leaped ashore, picked the girl up bodily, threw her almost with
violence into the canoe, thrust the light craft into the stream, and
resumed his efforts, scowling savagely.

The girl dropped her face in her hands. When the white men's craft
overtook the main band, she crouched still lower, shuddering under the
grim scrutiny of her people. Dick's lofty scorn looked neither to right
nor left, but paddled fiercely ahead until the Indians were well astern
and hidden by the twists of the river. Sam Bolton proceeded serenely on
in his accustomed way.

Only, when the tribesmen had been left behind, he leaned forward and
began to talk to the girl in low-voiced Ojibway, comforting her with
many assurances, as one would comfort a child. After a time she ceased
trembling and looked up. But her glance made no account of the steady,
old man who had so gently led her from her slough of despond, but rested
on the straight, indignant back of the glorious youth who had cast her
into it. And Sam Bolton, knowing the ways of a maid, merely sighed, and
resumed his methodical paddling.