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Updated: May 10, 2025
His hand clenched, and he laughed harshly as there flashed on him for an instant the thought that perhaps Pierrot would not want to give her up. Pierrot! Bah! It would not be the first time he had killed a man or the second. McTaggart laughed again, and he walked still faster. There was no chance of his losing no chance for Nepeese to get away from him.
His greatest pleasure came to be not in eating but in destroying. The fires of his hatred burned fiercer as the weeks passed, until at last he would snap and tear with his long fangs at the snow where McTaggart's feet had passed. And all of the time, away back of his madness, there was a vision of Nepeese that continued to grow more and more clearly in his brain.
He was waiting, wet as a water rat, with his eyes fixed on her expectantly. Nepeese made a movement toward him, and hesitated. "No, you will not run away, Baree. I will leave you free. And now we must have a fire!" A fire! Anyone but Pierrot might have said that she was crazy. Not a stem or twig in the forest that was not dripping! They could hear the trickle of running water all about them.
Pierrot could not miss at that distance. Wakayoo made a splendid mark. It was slaughter. Yet for Pierrot and Nepeese it was business the business of life. Baree was shivering. It was more from excitement than fear, for he had lost his own fear in the tragedy of these moments.
He made a lunge, a savage grab, and his fingers caught a bit of hair. He heard the snap of it as she tore herself free and flew to the door. She had thrown back the bolt when he caught her and his arms closed about her. He dragged her back, and now she cried out cried out in her despair for Pierrot, for Baree, for some miracle of God that might save her. And Nepeese fought.
Was it like this that the first woman had looked to Kazan? Baree stood still. Nepeese was not more than twenty feet from him. She sat on a rock, full in the early morning sun, and was brushing out her wonderful hair. Her lips parted. Her eyes shone in an instant like stars. One hand remained poised, weighted with the jet tresses. She recognized him.
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.
Pierrot and Nepeese had stepped from behind the balsams, the Willow's beautiful eyes shining with pride at the accuracy of her shot. Instantly she caught her breath. Her brown fingers clutched at the barrel of her rifle. The chuckle of satisfaction died on Pierrot's lips as Baree's cries of pain filled the forest. "Uchi moosis!" gasped Nepeese, in her Cree. Pierrot caught the rifle from her.
These, with the skin or feathers stripped off, made up the bulk of the bait for the traps ahead. One afternoon early in December, as they were returning to the Gray Loon, Pierrot stopped suddenly a dozen paces ahead of Nepeese and stared at the snow. A strange snowshoe trail had joined their own and was heading toward the cabin.
In the shadow of the farther wall Baree had struggled to his haunches, and now he growled. Slowly Nepeese lifted her head. A power which she could not resist drew her eyes up until she was looking into the face of Bush McTaggart. She had almost lost consciousness of his presence. Her senses were cold and deadened it was as if her own heart had stopped beating along with Pierrot's.
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