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Watusk's pit was one of the pair covering the upper entrance to the valley. It was thus farthest away from the approaching horsemen. It faced straight down the valley. Through the lower gap they caught the gleam of the red coats. Ambrose beheld them with a painfully contracted heart. He gaged in his mind how far his voice might carry. The wind was against him.
Watusk had also traveled in the other dugout ascending the river, and they had exchanged no words. He came to the shack attended by his four little familiars, and the door was closed behind them. These four were like supers in a theater. They had no lines to speak. Watusk's aspect was intended to be imposing.
"Long tam ago we got stone bowls for grind wild rice in," he said. "So many years we buy flour all the bowls is broke and throw away now." Ambrose could not deny to himself the gravity of the situation. He was reminded afresh that he was dealing with a savage by the subtle, threatening note that presently crept into Watusk's smooth voice.
Unfortunately, our story-teller in his desire for artistic verisimilitude has overreached himself. "That touch about Nesis if that is what he called her, being the fourth wife of Watusk. Why fourth? one wonders. You have heard Lona testify that she was Watusk's one and only wife. She ought to know. I fancy I need say no more about that. "Next comes Inspector Egerton.
"He's trying to find out how much Nesis told me," he thought. Aloud he said, with a shrug like Watusk himself: "Well, I'll be glad when it blows over." "Two three day I let you out," Watusk said soothingly. "You can have anything you want." "How is Nesis?" demanded Ambrose abruptly. There was a subtle change in Watusk's eyes; no muscle of his face altered. "She all right," he said coolly.
"Where you get the flour?" asked Watusk politely. "I borrowed Gaviller's mill to grind it," Ambrose answered in kind. Watusk's eyes narrowed. He puffed out his cheeks a little, and Ambrose saw that an oration was impending. "I hope there will be no trouble," the Indian began self-importantly. "Always when there is trouble the red man get blame.
It seemed like the very sport of fate that he should be placed in the power of such a poor creature as this. "How!" said Watusk, offering his hand with an affable smile. Ambrose, remembering the look of his face when it rose over the bank, was sharply taken aback. He lacked a clue to the course of reasoning pursued by Watusk's mongrel mind.
They commenced to move slowly through the grass in the track of Watusk's party, spreading out wide in open formation. The inspector was in the center of the line. He carried no arms. His men were still joking and laughing. They commenced to mount the hill, walking their horses, and sitting loosely in their saddles.
"You on'erstan' now!" "You fool!" cried Ambrose. "If you fire on the police you'll be wiped clean off the earth! The whole power of the government will descend on your head! There won't be a single Kakisa left to tell the story of what happened!" Watusk's face turned ugly. His eyes bolted. "Shut up!" he snarled, "or I gag you."
Ambrose recognizing Watusk's type was not put out by the sudden drop from the sublime to the ridiculous. He now had a "line" on his man. Swallowing his laughter, he answered in a similar strain. "I am glad to see Watusk. I wish to be his friend. I come from the big lake six days' journey toward the place of the rising sun.
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