"You are overly free with your comments, Hugo Chevet. When I wish advice I will ask it."

"And in the woods I do not always wait to be asked," returned the older man, lighting his pipe, and calmly puffing out the blue smoke.

"Though it is likely enough you will be asking for it before you journey many leagues further."

"You are under my orders."

"So La Barre said, but the only duty he gave me was to watch over Adele here. He put no shackle on my tongue. You have chosen your course?"

"Yes, up the Ottawa."

"I supposed so, although that boy yonder could lead you a shorter passage."

"How learned you that?"

"By talking with him in Quebec. He even sketched me a map of the route he traveled with La Salle. You knew it not?"

"'Twas of no moment, for my orders bid me go by St. Ignace. Yet it might be well to question him and the chief also." He turned to the nearest soldier. "Tell the Algonquin, Altudah, to come here, and Sieur de Artigny."

They approached together, two specimens of the frontier as different as could be pictured, and stood silent, fronting Cassion who looked at them frowning, and in no pleasant humor. The eyes of the younger man sought my face for an instant, and the swift glance gave harsher note to the Commissaire's voice.

"We will reload the canoes here for the long voyage," he said brusquely. "The sergeant will have charge of that, but both of you will be in the leading boat, and will keep well in advance of the others. Our course is by way of the Ottawa. You know that stream, Altudah?"

The Indian bowed his head gravely, and extended one hand beneath the scarlet fold of his blanket.

"Five time, Monsieur."

"How far to the west, Chief?"

"To place call Green Bay."

Cassion turned his eyes on De Artigny, a slight sneer curling his lips.

"And you?" he asked coldly.

"But one journey, Monsieur, along the Ottawa and the lakes," was the quiet answer, "and that three years ago, yet I scarce think I would go astray. 'Tis not a course easily forgotten."

"And beyond Green Bay?"

"I have been to the mouth of the Great River."

"You!" in surprise. "Were you of that party?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"And you actually reached the sea--the salt water?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"Saint Anne! I never half believed the tale true, nor do I think overmuch of your word for it. But let that go. Chevet here tells me you know a shorter journey to the Illinois?"

"Not by canoe, Monsieur. I followed Sieur de la Salle by forest trail to the Straits, and planned to return that way, but 'tis a foot journey."

"Not fitted for such a party as this?"

"Only as you trust to your rifles for food, bearing what packs we might on our backs. With the lady the trail is scarcely possible."

"As to the lady I will make my own decision. Besides, our course is decided. We go to St. Ignace. What will be your course from Green Bay?"

"Along the west shore, Monsieur; it is dangerous only by reason of storms."

"And the distance?"

"From St. Ignace?"

"Ay! from St. Ignace! What distance lies between there and this Fort St. Louis, on the Illinois?"

"'Twill be but a venture, Monsieur, but I think 'tis held at a hundred and fifty leagues."

"Of wilderness?"

"When I passed that way--yes; they tell me now the Jesuits have mission station at Green Bay, and there may be fur traders in Indian villages beyond."

"No chance to procure supplies?"

"Only scant rations of corn from the Indians."

"Your report is in accordance with my instructions and maps, and no doubt is correct. That will be all. Take two more men in your boat, and depart at once. We shall follow immediately."

As De Artigny turned away in obedience to these orders, his glance met mine, and seemed to question. Eager as I was to acquaint him with the true reason of my presence it was impossible. To have exhibited the slightest interest would only increase the enmity between the two men, and serve no good purpose. I did not even venture to gaze after him as he disappeared down the bank, feeling assured that Cassion's eyes were suspiciously watching me. My appearance of indifference must have been well assumed, for there was a sound of confidence in his voice as he bade us return to the canoes, and I even permitted him to assist me to my feet, and aid me in the descent to the shore.

CHAPTER VIII

I DEFY CASSION

Our progress was slow against the swift current of the St. Lawrence, and we kept close to the overhanging bank, following the guidance of the leading canoe. We were the second in line, and no longer over-crowded, so that I had ample room to rest at ease upon a pile of blankets, and gaze about me with interest on the changing scene.

Cassion, encouraged possibly by my permitting his attendance down the bank, found seat near me, and endeavored to converse; but, although I tried to prove cordial, realizing now that to anger the man would only add to my perplexity, his inane remarks tried me so that I ceased reply, and we finally lapsed into silence. Chevet, who held the steering oar, asked him some questions, which led to a brisk argument, and I turned away my head, glad enough to escape, and be permitted the luxury of my own thoughts.

How beautifully desolate it all was; with what fresh delight each new vista revealed itself. The wild life, the love of wilderness and solitude, was in my blood, and my nature responded to the charm of our surroundings. I was the daughter of one ever attracted by the frontier, and all my life had been passed amid primitive conditions--the wide out-of-doors was my home, and the lonely places called me. The broad, rapid sweep of the river up which we won our slow passage, the great beetling cliffs dark in shadows, and crowned by trees, the jutting rocks whitened by spray, the headlands cutting off all view ahead, then suddenly receding to permit of our circling on into the unknown--here extended a panorama of which I could never tire.

My imagination swept ahead into the mystery which awaited us in that vast wilderness toward which we journeyed--the dangerous rivers, the portages, the swift rush of gleaming water, the black forests, the plains of waving grass, the Indian villages, and those immense lakes along whose shores we were destined to find way. All this possibility had come to me so unexpectedly, with such suddenness, that even yet I scarcely realized that my surroundings were real. They seemed more a dream than an actual fact, and I was compelled to concentrate my mind on those people about me before I could clearly comprehend the conditions under which I lived.

Yet here was reality enough: the Indian paddlers, stripped to the waist, their bodies glistening, as with steady, tireless strokes, they forced our canoe forward, following relentlessly the wake of the speeding boat ahead; the little group of soldiers huddled in the bows, several sleeping already, the others amusing themselves with game of cards; while just in front of me sat the priest, his fingers clasping an open book, but his eyes on the river. The silhouette of his face, outlined beyond his black hood, seemed carved from stone, it was so expressionless and hard. There was something so sinister about it that I felt a chill run through me, and averted my eyes, only to encounter the glance of Cassion beside me, who smiled, and pointed out a huge terrace of rock which seemed a castle against the blue of the sky. I think he told me the fanciful name the earlier explorers had given the point, and related some legend with which it was connected, but my mind was not on his tale, and soon he ceased effort to entertain me, and his head nodded sleepily.