" And now he was out there, alone with his dog in
the night--and the red-coated avengers of the law were hunting
him. They wanted him for many things, but chiefly for the killing
of a man.
Yellow Bird sat up, her little hands clenched about the thick
braid of Sun Cloud's hair. She had conjured with the spirits and
had let the soul go out of her body that she might learn the
future for Neekewa, her white brother. And they had told her that
Roger McKay had done right to think of killing.
Their voices had whispered to her that he would not suffer more
than he had already suffered--and that in the Country Beyond he
would find Nada the white girl, and happiness, and peace. Yellow
Bird did not disbelieve. Her faith was illimitable. The spirits
would not lie. But the unrest of the night was eating at her
heart. She tried to lift herself to the whisperings above the
tepee top. But they were unintelligible, like many voices
mingling, and with them came a dull fear into her soul.
She put out a hand, as if to rouse Slim Buck. Then she drew it
back, and placed Sun Cloud's braid away from her. She rose to her
feet so quietly that even in their restlessness they did not fully
awake. Through the tepee door she went, and stood up straight in
the night, as if now she might hear more clearly, and understand.
For a space she breathed in the oppressive something that was in
the air, and her eyes went east and west for sign of storm.
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