CHAPTER Xll 



moosewa's death 



" I myself must hunt this deer to death." 



Henry VI. 



He lay under a spreading hemlock, whose moss- 

 grown arms made a canopy above his head. In 

 front a wide river surged, a glorious sweep. The 

 heavy dew of the night had brought out the strong 

 tang in the pines ; even the gi'ass smelt resinous. 



The startling event of the previous evening had 

 strung the deer's nerves to breaking-point. Now, as 

 he rested in the shelter of the woodland sanctuary, 

 he felt his muscles relax and slacken, and the burn in 

 his haunch cool. Curious I It took him back across 

 the years to the trading-post, to the day of the 

 branding, the pain he was enduring was so remin- 

 iscent. Sharp and strong, and from its centre 

 hundreds of shooting pricks radiated, each one a 

 separate stab. 



He must get back to his own region — however 



238 



