"Depechez vous, mon pere!" she cried. "It is the dog pup! Quick--"

In the floating cloud of her hair she sped after Baree like the wind.
Pierrot followed, and in going he caught up his rifle. It was difficult
for him to catch up with the Willow. She was like a wild spirit, her
little moccasined feet scarcely touching the sand as she ran up the
long bar. It was wonderful to see the lithe swiftness of her, and that
glorious hair streaming out in the sun. Even now, in this moment's
excitement, it made Pierrot think of McTaggart, the Hudson's Bay
Company's factor over at Lac Bain, and what he had said yesterday. Half
the night Pierrot had lain awake, gritting his teeth at thought of it.
And this morning, before Baree ran upon them, he had looked at Nepeese
more closely than ever before in his life. She was beautiful. She was
lovelier even than Wyola, her princess mother, who was dead. That
hair--which made men stare as if they could not believe! Those
eyes--like pools filled with wonderful starlight! Her slimness, that
was like a flower! And McTaggart had said--

Floating back to him there came an excited cry.

"Hurry, Nootawe! He has turned into the blind canyon. He cannot escape
us now."

She was panting when he came up to her. The French blood in her glowed
a vivid crimson in her cheeks and lips. Her white teeth gleamed like
pearls.

"In there!" And she pointed.