The woman and Imbrie roared with laughter.
"Then I just took her knife and her food, and went," the woman said, callously.
"Damned inhuman--!" Stonor cried involuntarily.
"What's the matter with you!" she returned. "Do you think I was going to let her take me in and turn me over for shooting at a policeman? Not if I know it! I was charitable to her if it comes to that. I could have taken her canoe, too, and then she would properly have starved. But I left her the canoe and a piece of bread, too. Mary Moosa is fat enough. I guess she can live off her fat long enough to get to Myengeen's village."
"I just walked off up the river. She couldn't follow me with her leg. She couldn't track the canoe up the rapids. All she can do is to go on down."
"How did you know where I was?" asked Imbrie.
"I didn't know. I took a chance. I had the gun and a belt of cartridges. I can snare fool-hens and catch fish. It was a sight better than going to jail. I knew if the policeman got you he'd bring you down river, and I figured I'd have another chance to get him. And if you got him I figured there wouldn't be any hurry, and you'd wait for awhile for me."
"You did well," said Imbrie with condescending approval.
"Nearly all night I walked along the shore looking for your camp. At last I saw the little tent and I knew I was all right. Then I waited for daylight to shoot. The damned policeman turned his head as I fired, or I would have finished him."
Imbrie dropped into the Indian tongue that they ordinarily used. From his knowledge of the Beaver language Stonor understood it pretty well, though a word escaped him here and there.
"Be careful," she said. "They may understand."
"No fear of that. We know that Clare doesn't speak our tongue."
"He doesn't, though. He spoke English to them. I asked Shose Cardinal if he spoke Beaver, and he said no. And when I pushed off I insulted him in our tongue, and he paid no attention. Listen to this----"
Imbrie turned, and in the Indian tongue addressed an unrepeatable insult to the wounded trooper. Stonor, though almost suffocated with rage, contrived to maintain an unchanged face.
"You see?" said Imbrie to the woman, laughing. "No white man would take that. We can say what we like to each other. Speak English now just to torment him, the swine! Ask me in English what I'm going to do with him."