"Ah, yes," said the Inspector. "I understand."
"No, you don't," said Cameron almost rudely. "You would have to see her
first. By Jove!" He broke into a laugh. "It is a joke with a vengeance,"
and relapsed into silence that lasted for some miles.
That night they slept in the old lumber camp, and the afternoon of the
second day found them skirting the Crow's Nest.
"We've had no luck this trip," growled the Inspector, for now they were
facing toward home.
"Listen!" said Cameron, pulling up his horse sharply. Down the pass the
faraway beat of a drum was heard. It was the steady throb of the tom-tom
rising and falling with rhythmic regularity.
"Sun-dance," said the Inspector, as near to excitement as he generally
allowed himself. "Piegans."
"Where?" said Cameron.
"In the sun-dance canyon," answered the Inspector. "I believe in my soul
we shall see something now. Must be two miles off. Come on."
Though late in December the ground was still unfrozen and the new-made
government trail gave soft footing to their horses. And so without fear
of detection they loped briskly along till they began to hear
rising above the throb of the tom-tom the weird chant of the Indian
sun-dancers.
"They are right down in the canyon," said the Inspector. "I know the
spot well.
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