It was empty now, except for the bit of old canvas.
Cassidy's Indian came up and stood behind him, and for many minutes they listened for the crackling of brush.

Slim Buck joined them, and last came Yellow Bird, her dark eyes glowing like pools of fire in their excitement.

Cassidy looked at her, marveling at her beauty, and suspicious of something that was in her face.

He went back to the beach.
There he caught himself short, astonishment bringing a sharp exclamation from his lips.
His canoe and outfit were gone! Out of the star-gloom behind him floated a soft ripple of laughter as Yellow Bird ran to her tepee.
And from the mist of water--far out--came a voice, the voice of Jolly Roger McKay.
"Goodby, Cassidy!" With it mingled the defiant bark of a dog.
In her tepee, a moment later, Yellow Bird drew Sun Cloud's glossy head close against her warm breast, and turned her radiant face up thankfully to the smoke hole in the tepee top, through which the spirits had whispered their warning to her.

Indistinctly, and still farther away, her straining ears heard again the cry, "Goodby, Cassidy!".