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And the girl " His blood warmed as he described to McTaggart how beautiful she was that day in her red dress, which appeared black in the photograph. He did not guess how near McTaggart's blood was to the boiling point. The next day MacDonald started for Norway House. McTaggart did not show Gregson the picture.
The club in Bush McTaggart's hand had not killed his spirit. It had killed his fear. It had roused in him a hatred such as he had never known not even when he was fighting Oohoomisew, the outlaw owl. The vengeful animosity of the wolf was burning in him now, along with the savage courage of the dog. He did not flinch when McTaggart approached him again.
He had caught the desire of a beast in McTaggart's face. It had frightened him at first. But now he was not frightened. He was uneasy, but his hands were clenched. In his heart there was a smoldering fire. At last Nepeese turned and came and sat down beside him again, at his feet. "He is coming tomorrow, ma cherie," he said. "What shall I tell him?" The Willow's lips were red. Her eyes shone.
Had it been good hunting weather he might have gone on, for the unseen hand that was guiding his wanderings was drawing him slowly but surely back to the old beaver pond and the Gray Loon. As it was, with the snow deep and soft under him so deep that in places he plunged into it over his ears McTaggart's trap line was like a trail of manna made for his special use.
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