MOOSWA BRINGS HELP 253 



gered in, and plumped down exhausted on the 

 floor. 



Carcajou had heaped the fire-place well with 

 wood for the night dry Tamarack to make it 

 blaze, and green Poplar to make it last; the 

 bright light shone on Mooswa s blood-matted 

 body and revealed to Roderick his terrible 

 condition. 



&quot; Mooswa, Mooswa ! &quot; he cried, dragging him 

 self close and putting his arm around the big 

 nose, &quot; who has done this ? You are wounded.&quot; 

 Just then two men, with the blood-thirst of the 

 chase hot in their hearts, glided to the door on 

 snow-shoes. One had thrust forward a rifle, but 

 his companion knocked it up with his arm. 

 &quot; What would you shoot ? &quot; he asked. 



&quot; I don t know,&quot; answered the other, his 

 Winchester almost falling from shaking fingers, 

 as he caught sight of a small boy-figure huddled 

 against the animal s head. &quot;Is it a banshee, 

 Donald ? &quot; he continued, in a frightened, husky 

 whisper. 



&quot; Is that you, Fran9ois ? &quot; cried Rod, sitting up 

 in his eagerness, as the voices came to him from 

 the outer dusk. 



&quot; Great Powers!&quot; exclaimed the man Donald, 

 stepping through the door, &quot; that s Factor 

 McGregor s kid, Rod. I heard he was down 



