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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Two days ago he left for the " She hesitated as there flashed through her brain the moment on Snare Lake when, once before, she had answered MacNair's question in almost the same words. "He said he was going to the southward," she corrected. MacNair smiled. "I think, this time, he has gone. But why he left without killing me I cannot understand. Lapierre has made a mistake."
The eyes of Tiger Elliston, intensified a hundredfold! And then MacNair's lips moved and his voice came low but distinctly and with terrible hardness. "I am not going to kill him," he said, "but, by God! He will wish I had! I hope he will live to be an old, old man. To the day of his death he will carry my mark. Bone-deep he will carry the scar of the gun-brand! The cross of the curse of Cain!"
And the next instant the shores of Snare Lake echoed to the wild weird sound of the wolf-cry the call of MacNair to his clan! Other calls and other summons might be ignored upon provocation, but when the terrible wolf-cry shattered the silence of the forest MacNair's Indians rushed to his side. Only death itself could deter them from fore-gathering at the sound of the wolf-cry.
His Indians " The girl interrupted him "I am not asking you to help. I have a canoe here. If you are afraid of MacNair's Indians you need not remain." The note of scorn in the girl's voice was not lost upon Lapierre. He flushed and answered with the quiet dignity that well became him: "I came here, Miss Elliston, with only three canoemen.
She died calling for the green grass of her Southland." He ceased speaking and unconsciously stooped and plucked a few spears of grass which he held in his palm and examined intently. "Why should one die calling for the sight of grass?" he asked abruptly, gazing into Chloe's eyes with a puzzled look. The girl gazed directly, searchingly into MacNair's eyes.
Two figures stepped out, and Chloe Elliston, followed by Big Lena, advanced boldly toward him. MacNair's jaw closed with a snap as the girl approached smiling. For in the smile was no hint of friendliness only defiance, not unmingled with contempt. "You see, Mr. Brute MacNair," she said, "I have kept my word. I told you I would invade your kingdom and here I am."
"Oh, forgive me!" Chloe cried, "I I did not know that I was intruding upon sacred ground!" There was real concern in her voice, and the lines of Bob MacNair's face softened. "It is no matter," he said. "She who sleeps here will not be disturbed." The unlooked for gentleness of the man's tone, the simple dignity of his words, went straight to Chloe Elliston's heart.
Had she not seen with her own eyes the evidence of this man's work among the Indians! With a gesture of appeal she turned to Big Lena. "Surely, Lena, you remember that night on Snare Lake? You saw MacNair's Indians, drunk as fiends and the buildings all on fire? You saw MacNair kicking and knocking them about? And you saw him fire the shots that killed two men? Speak, can't you?
The girl arose, and, after a hurried glance at the sleeping Ripley, bathed her eyes in cold water and passed into the kitchen, where Big Lena was busy in the preparation of breakfast. "Send LeFroy to me at once!" she ordered, and five minutes later, when the man stood before her, she ordered him to summon all of MacNair's Indians.
There's Elk's sword and horse, and the schooling of both of you, and the burying of your father, Jim MacNair, eighteen years ago this May. Dear! dear!" The Honorable Perkiomen Trappe, catching a part of this remark, observed that Jabel Blake, judging by his appearance, shouldn't have buried MacNair's father, but devoured him.
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