It was slaughter--but business.
A minute later, standing over Wakayoo, Pierrot said to Nepeese: "Mon dieu, but it is a fine skin, Sakahet! It is worth twenty dollars over at Lac Bain!" He drew forth his knife and began whetting it on a stone which he carried in his pocket.

In these minutes Baree might have crawled out from under his rock and escaped down the canyon; for a space he was forgotten.

Then Nepeese thought of him, and in that same strange, wondering voice she spoke again the word "Baree." Pierrot, who was kneeling, looked up at her.
"Oui, Sakahet.

He was born of the wild.

And now he is gone--" The Willow shook her head.
"Non, he is not gone," she said, and her dark eyes searched the sunlit meadow..