The camp was even larger than the night had
shown, and it took some looking to find the woman's lodge. It was
empty; the mat was pulled down from before the door.
I should have expected nothing else, for the morning was far advanced,
but I felt baffled, belated, like one whose long unconsciousness had
carried him hopelessly out of touch with his surroundings. Most of the
Indians were gathered at the shore, and I made my way toward them. I
went but slowly, for I had to feign indifference. I knew that every
step was watched. Perhaps the woman herself was watching. I burned
with shame to think she should have seen me sleep so soddenly. I
expected every moment to see her in the crowd.
But when I reached the beach the crowd was straying as if the
excitement were over. Far out on the water to the northeast was a
flotilla of canoes fast disappearing. Whom did they carry? Had they
left from the camp? I cursed myself for my lost hours. The threads of
the situation had slipped from my hand, and all my feeling of
competence and hope of the night before had gone with them. I could
see no sign of the woman nor of Starling. Pierre's red head was a
beacon, but I dared not go to him.
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