would consume her share of the provisions. And before this expedition
into the Silent Places should be finished the journeying might require
the speed of a course after quarry, the packing would come finally to
the men's back, the winter would have to be met in the open, and the
North, lavish during these summer months, sold her sustenance dear when
the snows fell. The time might come when these men would have to arm for
the struggle. Cruelty, harshness, relentlessness, selfishness,
singleness of purpose, hardness of heart they would have perforce to
assume. And when they stripped for such a struggle, Sam Bolton knew that
among other things this woman would have to go. If the need arose, she
would have to die; for this quest was greater than the life of any woman
or any man. Would it not be better to send her back through certain
hardship now, rather than carry her on to a possible death in the White
Silence. For the North as yet but skirmished. Her true power lay behind
the snows and the ice.

The girl stood in the same attitude. Sam Bolton spoke to her.

"May-may-gwán."

"Little Father."

"Why have you followed us?"

The girl did not reply.

"Sister," said the woodsman, kindly, "I am an old man. You have called
me Father. Why have you followed us?"

"I found Jibiwánisi good in my sight," she said, with a simple dignity,