Then Clarke spoke.
"So you have turned back! You found the muskeg too difficult to cross?
I suppose this fellow showed you the way here." Harding felt worn out; he crossed the floor to the heap of reeds and sat down facing Clarke.
"We have come for you," he announced abruptly; "and we must start at once.

My partner is very sick--fever--and you'll have to cure him." Clarke laughed, without mirth.
"You're presuming on my consent." "Yes," said Harding sternly; "I'm counting right on that.

It wouldn't be wise of you to refuse." "I don't agree with you.

A shout or a shot would bring in my friends, and you'd find yourself in a very unpleasant position.

You had better understand that nobody troubles about what goes on up here--and I believe I'm a person of some influence." He indicated Harding's guide.
"I don't know what this fellow's doing in this neighborhood, but he belongs to a tribe the Stonies have a grudge against.