It did not take Grey long to change his wet clothes for the ones which had been brought for him by the owner of the house. This accomplished, and his cast-off garments hung by the kitchen stove to dry, he started with Dan back to the foot of the rapids, where they had left their outfit and scanty supply of provisions. Little was said until the river was reached, for each was lost in his own thoughts. It was Dan who broke the silence, as they at length stood on the bank of the stream.

"By the fur of a martin!" he ejaculated, "it's clear to me now."

"What's clear?" questioned Grey, as he stooped to roll up their one blanket.

"The place whar them varmints are hikin' to. I wasn't altogether sartin at fust, an' not quite sure that they'd headed up this way. But when that lassie come tumblin' down yon rapids it made everything plain."

"But how do you think she got into that boat alone?" questioned Grey. "That's what I've been trying to solve ever since we left the house over there."

The trapper scratched his head, dove his hand deep into his pocket, and brought forth a plug of tobacco, turned it carefully over and bit off a corner.

"It's one of three things," he began, "an' I've thought 'em all over. In some places it might be an accident, but not among the Big Lake Injuns. Sich a thing 'ud not happen among 'em. Then, the gal might have tried to escape. But as the kid wasn't with her that proposition's outer the question."

"But maybe the boy is dead," Grey suggested. "He has come through much lately, and perhaps the trip has knocked him out."

"No, pardner, I don't think it likely. The lassie 'ud look after 'im. She's the kind that 'ud care fer the little chap fust."

"Well, then, what is your idea, Dan?"

"That woman was sent inter them foamin' white caps to die. That's what it was."

"Dan, Dan!" Grey cried in amazement. "What do you mean? What reason would the Indians have for doing such a deed, and especially to her?"

"Can't tell ye that, laddie. Ye kin never trust them varmints, perticularly when there's an Injun woman along. But come, if we stop here talkin' all day they'll git too fer ahead of us. We're on the right trail, an' if we're goin' to do anythin' let's git on."

At once Grey bent, seized the blanket, threw the strap over his shoulder, and strode rapidly along by Dan's side. His weariness was now gone, and the blood surged madly through his veins. Added to his desire to recover the child was the longing to punish the ones who had sent Madeline through the rapids. Oh, for a dozen or more of his comrades at Big Glen, mounted on their hardy steeds, and he would show the Indians a thing or two! But then, that was not the way of the Force. It never trusted to numbers. As in far-off Hebrew days it believed that "One thousand shall flee at the rebuke of one," and that "One hundred shall put ten thousand to flight."

Having reached the head of the rapids they carefully examined the remains of the recent camp fire. From the few ashes lying on the ground they could tell how pitifully small it had been—typical of Indian ways. Grey looked down thoughtfully upon that thin black layer and the several charred sticks scattered around. He pictured Madeline sitting at that very spot, enfolding, perhaps, in her arms the tired, homeless child. What were her thoughts as she sat there? Did she think of him? He glanced toward the river flowing sullenly by. If it would only speak what a tale it could unfold. Dan saw the look and divined the meaning.

"Yes, laddie," he remarked, "it was hard—it was devilish. But never mind, yon trail will reveal somethin' afore night shets down or else I'm much mistaken."

For several miles above the rapids stretched as wild and rugged a portion of land as ever met the eye of man. A long range of hills sloped toward the river in a terrace-like formation, terminating in an abrupt, jagged wall of rock from ten to thirty feet in height. The narrow strip of ground between this and the river was strewn with thousands of small and large boulders, which had been hurled from the flinty summit of the range, so the Indians believed, by the Great Spirit in a terrible battle with the monsters of the mountains.

Among these boulders twisted the slender trail, winding at times close to the overshadowing wall of rock. At one of these places Grey paused, and looked about with wonder, mingled with awe. Above him towered two gigantic flinty columns of rock. The chisels of ages had cut strange figures upon their hard surfaces, and rounded into rugged symmetry their stately forms. Silent hoodoo sentinels were they frowning down upon the trail at their feet. To the Indians they were objects of fear and reverence, and their steps always quickened as with furtive eyes they glided speedily by.

"Talk about the monuments of civilisation," said Grey, placing his hand upon the nearer column. "But where will you find such shafts as these cut by the hand of man? Why, the wonderful Cleopatra's needle is a pigmy to these."

"Ay, ay, laddie, yer right thar. When I was in New York they p'inted out to me a number of stones stuck up in the city, an' they showed me the picters in their Art Galleries. But sez I to 'em, 'Come with me to the grand North land, an' I'll show ye picters jist as the Lord made 'em, with no smell of paint upon 'em either. An' as fer stones, I'll show ye monements which the Lord made, with their heads playin' with the clouds, an' their roots grippin' down inter the bowels of the arth.' That's wot I said to 'em, an' they smiled to their selves, so they did, an' nudged one another. They thought I was a bit daft. But, my! if they could see sich wonders as these, they'd then know it wasn't me who was daft."

During this speech Grey was peering around the colossal shaft, exploring the space beyond. Something was interesting him there, and he took a few paces forward.

"Come, Dan," he cried, "what a fine cave is hidden behind these columns."

They both now stood at the opening, looking into the yawning mouth of the cavern.

"It sartinly is great!" ejaculated the trapper. "Who'd a thought thar was sich a hole as this!"

"I should like to explore it," Grey replied, for his curiosity was by this time thoroughly aroused. "Who can tell what wonderful things lie concealed in there. What strange pranks nature plays in this part of the world."

"Seems to me nater had nuthin' to do with this," and Dan carefully examined the opening as he spoke. "Looks as if some two-legged critters with hands an' brains did the work. Guess them Rooshians, who once was here, dug the place. But, come, that's not our bizness now. We've lost too much precious time by foolin' around here, while them Injuns are hikin' it along the trail. No more sich stoppin', mind ye, to-day, examinin' holes an' rocks. Let's git on. I'm agoin' to set the pace, an' ye kin foller if ye like."

And Dan was true to his word. How he did swing forward with that long steady gait, which seemed never to weary. Grey found it difficult to follow close, but he was determined that he would not be outdone. Across a long stretch of wild meadows they sped, up a steep hill, through a densely wooded region, where the trees stood tall and sombre. Grey lost count of time and distance. He was a mere machine—he was simply a bundle of cogs, fitting into another set of cogs ahead, which some irresistible power was driving. Could he keep it up much longer?

It was late in the afternoon as they climbed a hill steeper than any they had yet encountered. Reaching the summit they involuntarily stayed their steps, and looked down upon a body of water lying like a gem in a setting of dark firs and jack pines. Not a ripple ruffled the surface of this mountain lake, while all around the edge ran a fringe of surpassing beauty, where the trees stood mirrored in its liquid depths.

"It's Lake Klawan," whispered Dan, "an' the Injuns are sure to stop here fer the night. We need to be very keerful now, fer the time has arrived when we must do somethin' that'll count."

The trapper was about to move forward, when he suddenly paused, gripped his companion by the arm, and pointed down through the tops of the trees.

"See, they're campin' thar!" he hoarsely whispered. "The varmints are down yon fer sure gettin' their supper."

As Grey looked he could see a thin line of smoke rising above the firs. He turned to the trapper.

"What next, Dan? What's your move?" he inquired.

The trapper's eyes were searching the forest to the left, while his ears were carefully attentive to a faint sound murmuring up through the trees.

"The river, pardner, is down in the valley, an' we must investigate. We'll have to depend much, I'm thinkin' upon that stream."

Saying thus he plunged at once down the hillside, Grey following close at his heels. After a hard fight through the thick underbrush they gained the river's bank and looked carefully around.

"Ah, that's good!" ejaculated Dan. "Thar's plenty of driftwood here, an' some of a fair size. We must make a small raft, laddie, fer I'm thinkin' we'll have to trust our carcasses to it afore long."

Quickly they set to work, and rolled to the edge of the water a dozen of the largest sticks. With his small axe Dan soon fashioned a number of withes from several trees standing near. With these he skilfully bound the logs together, placed several more across the top, and ere long the raft was finished.

"Fine job that," and Dan stepped back a few paces to view his work. "She'll run like a greyhound down the stream. We'll make her fast an' snug in the eddy, fer we can't tell how soon we may need her."

"What's your plan now?" questioned Grey.

"We must git that kid."

"In what way?"

"Wall, I'm jist thinkin' about it. We might creep down upon 'em, an' pick 'em off. But I don't want to do that. It 'ud stir up the hull tribe if we knocked out them two bucks. Then, we might wait till it gits dark, steal upon 'em, an' pinch the lad. But mebbe they intend to git on over the lake, an' we'd be out of it fer sure then. They ginerally keep a canoe handy. No, them plans won't work. But I've another. We must git the men away. It's fer me to do that, an' it's up to you to look after the boy. See?"

"Partly. But how?"

"You leave that to me. I'm goin' up around the lake to the right, an' you jist creep up close like, whar them varmints are squattin'. Be very cautious or ye might spile the hull thing. But when ye see the men leave the kid with the woman, then you drop in like a whirlwind an' do the rest. When ye git the kid hike back to this place, an' wait fer me. But if the bucks git here fust, cast off, an' I'll meet ye down-stream. If it comes to a fight, yer a match fer the hull consarn. I'm off now."

Left to himself Grey stood for a few minutes looking down upon the water. He was realising how dependent he was upon this rugged frontier trapper. He had imagined that his own strength of mind, nerve and body was sufficient to overcome almost any difficulty. In the vicinity of Big Glen it had sufficed. But here where the vast wilderness was the stage, with rushing rivers, foaming rapids, wind-swept lakes, sweeping plains and towering mountains, the setting, and dare-devil white men and roving Indians the chief actors, it was altogether different.

At length he turned, and walked along the bank of the river up toward the lake. There was no footpath here, and he found travelling most difficult. But he considered it safer than on the trail higher up. Slowly and warily he picked his way, taking care not to make the slightest noise to warn the natives of his approach. At times he paused and listened, but hearing nothing he advanced. Ere long, after pushing his way through a tangled thicket of underbrush, the lake burst suddenly into view. One glance was sufficient, and Grey dropped quickly to his knees, and crouched behind a low scrubby bush. There on the shore, only a few rods away, were the Indians, squatting about their camp fire. He counted them—two men, one woman, and something lying on the ground, which no doubt was the stolen child.

Grey's right hand pressed firmly his smooth rifle barrel as he peered down upon that group. How he longed to pick off those two dusky braves. Two quick reports and the deed would be done. He could deal with the woman; he had no doubt of that. But another voice soon silenced this blood-thirsty desire. "Coward," it whispered, "would you shoot them down without giving them a chance? You call yourself a man. You a member of a famous Force, and would you stain its honourable annals with such a contemptible deed?"

At that instant a sound broke upon the still evening air. It came from the right, around the curve in the lake. It was the hoarse cry of a moose calling to its mate. Again it came, clearer than before.

The effect of that call acted like magic upon the two Indian bucks. Seizing their rifles they glided to a canoe lying upon the shore, shoved it off, and leaped in. With noiseless paddle dips they sped swiftly over the still waters, keeping well within the dark fringe-like shadow, which was growing larger and larger as the evening waned.

"How strange," Grey murmured to himself, "that such a thing should happen at the right moment."

Then he thought of Dan, and as light dawned upon his mind he almost gave a shout of delight. He restrained himself, however, in time, and turned his attention to the camp fire. Only the woman to contend with now.

He was about to slip from his hiding place, rush down and seize the child, when he happened to glance out over the lake to the left. As he did so he stared with amazement, for coming swiftly onward was a flotilla of canoes, driven by strong, determined arms. Spectres they seemed, bearing down suddenly from the unknown. Grey rubbed his eyes to make sure that he beheld aright. But there was no mistake. It was a stern reality.

By this time the Indian woman had seen them, too, and had hurried to the shore, and was wildly waving her arms. It was his opportunity, and he must not delay.

But now there fell upon his ears another sound. It was the voice of a child crying out in its loneliness.

"Mamma, mamma," it called. "I wants 'ou, mamma."

Grey hesitated no longer. He sprang forward, bounded like a tiger down the slope, seized the lad in his arms, and speeded back to cover. Scarcely had he reached the shelter of the forest ere the wild shrieks of the Indian woman made the evening hideous. Well did Grey know its meaning, and he smiled grimly, as, pressing the child to his breast, he once again threaded the tangled maze of underbrush, and reached the place where the raft was floating. Here he placed his burden upon the ground, and listened attentively.

"My! this is getting hot!" he panted. "We'll have the whole tribe after us now. I hope to goodness Dan will show up soon."