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Going back to the house he learned from Klota that the master of Glen West had gone down to the Yukon River for his mail. It was always left at the trading-post by the steamers on their way down river. It generally took a whole day to make the trip there and back. This information caused Reynolds considerable disappointment, as he would not be able to meet Weston or his daughter that day.
He was beginning to understand, too, something of Jim Weston's influence among the Indians. He had taught them the value of cleanliness, at any rate, and if all the natives in the place were like Klota and her husband, it must be an ideal settlement. An hour later Reynolds came forth looking like a new man, and greatly refreshed after his bath.
You know as well as I do that he turns the Indians upon every white stranger who comes across the Golden Crest or by water. Daddy never mentioned it to me, but both Sconda and Klota have told me how the miners fear this place, and think that daddy is a terrible monster. When I asked them what became of the white men who ventured here, they wouldn't tell me, but looked at each other in a queer way.
Sconda was standing near The Frontiersman, and he offered to accompany her. But Glen smilingly told him that she wished to be alone this morning, and that perhaps Klota needed him more than she did. The Indian was quite surprised at her refusal, and somewhat piqued as well.
He knew that Glen was somewhat unnerved, and he upbraided himself for telling her about his dream. Why are some people so foolish as to believe in such things? he asked himself. "Suppose we go over to Sconda's," Glen suggested. "I want to see Klota. She is doing some work for me." "I understand," Reynolds replied. "You wish to find out how that bearskin is getting along."
She had almost forgotten it now, and her former anxiety had nearly vanished. She had a slight feeling of fear as to what Curly might attempt to do to Reynolds at Big Draw, but when she thought of her lover's strength she smiled confidently to herself. About the middle of the afternoon she decided to go down to see Klota.
Klota has been telling him some bosh about a presentiment she had, that something terrible is going to happen to us out here in the hills." "And does Sconda believe it, too?" Glen asked, controlling her feelings with a great effort. "Certainly he believes it. I laughed at him, and told him that he should have more sense than to pay any attention to such things." "But suppose he should be right?"
She longed to tell her companion what Klota had said, but she hesitated about doing so. Would he not consider her weak and foolish? She knew that her father would only laugh at her if she told him. She did not wish to make herself ridiculous in their eyes, and yet she could not get her lover's dream nor Klota's warning out of her mind.
Sconda is going," was the reply. Then an anxious expression appeared in the old woman's eyes as she turned them upon her fair visitor. "Don't you go," she warned. "Stay home." "Why, Klota?" Glen asked as calmly as possible, although her fast-beating heart told of her agitation. "Something might happen out there," and the Indian woman motioned to her left. "What has Klota seen?
"And you want Sconda to fetch bear to camp, eh?" "I do. Take as many men as you need and go in the morning. Tell the women to be ready to prepare the meat. And, Sconda, I want you to look after the dressing of the skin. Get Klota to do it. Tell her it is for me, and she will understand. That is all, I guess." Glen dismounted, and handed the reins to the Indian. "Midnight is hungry, Sconda.
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