But directed by the Indian woman, she soon overcame her awkwardness and ere long was able to move forward gracefully and rapidly. In two days she was quite an expert, and could even run upon the springing snow-shoes, much to the delight of the two natives.

"Ka-lo-ut. Ka-lo-ut--Good. Good," was Sam's comment as he watched her coming off the lake at the end of the second day of training. "Babby walk all sam' Injun now."

The next morning the Indians began to pack up their few belongings, and Jean was delighted when they told her that at last the long overland journey was to begin. The streams were now frozen, and the travelling good.

"How long will it take us to make the journey?" Jean asked Sam.

"Long tam. Wan moon, mebbe. Two moon, mebbe."

"What! two months?"

"A-ha-ha, mebbe. See bimeby."

It was near mid-day when at last everything was ready and they left the little lodge by the lake and plunged into the forest. A pang of regret smote Jean's heart as she cast a backward glance upon the humble abode.

She had spent happy days there, and it had been to her a place of refuge from her pursuers. She knew that she would never see it again.

Suppose Dane should come to the lodge and find it deserted!

The journey through the forest was of necessity slow. With a pack upon his back, and drawing a small sled loaded with blankets and food, Sam went ahead and broke the trail. Kitty followed, also carrying a heavy load and the musket. Jean brought up the rear, and she found the walking quite easy owing to the excellent trail beaten down by her thoughtful companions. She had insisted upon carrying something, so a small pack had been made up for her and strapped in Indian fashion across her shoulders. This pleased her, as she felt that she was doing a little, at any rate, to help.

It was a wonderful region through which they moved. Up hill and down, across wild meadows and frozen swamps. Most of the time they travelled through great forest tracts, unharmed as yet by fire or axe. The trees, thick-set and tall, reminded Jean of great masts. A brooding silence reigned in these sombre depths, broken only by an occasional chatter of a surprised squirrel, the whirr of a partridge, or the cheepings of the little chickadees as they hopped from branch to branch. Once during the afternoon they stopped and ate a little of the cooked food Kitty had brought along. Jean was glad of this rest, for notwithstanding the training she had received, she was quite weary.

She was most thankful when that evening Sam halted by the side of a little brook, unslung his pack and laid it upon the snow.

"Yut-ku-lo-wut," he said.

"What does that mean?" Jean asked.

"Good camp-place."

Then he turned to his wife.

"Mu-tu-o-to," he said, which the girl knew as the order to build a fire. She was pleased that she understood this command, and it encouraged her to continue the study of the native language.

While Kitty, with Jean's a.s.sistance, gathered some dry wood, and lighted the fire, Sam erected a lean-to. Thus by the time darkness enshrouded the land they were ready for the night. It was good to lie down and rest after the march of the day, and Jean soon feel asleep.

Thus for several days they continued their journey, travelling by easy stages. Jean was more accustomed now to the trail, and the stiffness of the first two days had worn away. It was welcome news to her, however, when Sam one night told her that by sundown on the morrow they should be at the big river, the Wu-las-tukw.

"Oh, I am so glad," she fervently replied. Once on the n.o.ble St. John it would seem almost home.

The next day they pa.s.sed through a wonderful forest of great white pines. Never had Jean seen anything like them. They were as straight as arrows, and their tops seemed to her to reach the clouds drifting overhead. Ere long she noticed that many of them bore the axe blaze, and examining more closely, she saw the form of a broad arrow cut deep into the bark. "What is that?" she asked.

"King George arrow," Sam explained. "All King George tree," and he waved his hand in an eloquent gesture. "White man cut'm bimeby."

"Oh, I know," Jean exclaimed as she recalled what Dane had told her.

"These are for masts for the King's navy, are they not?"

"A-ha-ha."

"Are there mast-cutters near here?"

"Off dere," and Sam motioned westward.

"Will we see them?"

"No see'm now. Bimeby, mebbe."

"Where are they?"

Sam stopped, stooped and with his forefinger made two parallel lines in the snow several inches apart.

"A-jem-sek," he said, touching the nearer line. "Wu-las-tukw," and he touched the other. He next placed his finger between the two. "White man here," he explained. "Plenty King George tree."

"Is A-jem-sek a river?" Jean asked.

"A-ha-ha."

"Will we soon be there?"

"Wan sight, mebbe."

Jean had learned that these Indians measured short distances according to sight, and that they said "one sight," "two sights," "three sights,"

instead of miles. She now knew that the A-jem-sek, whatever that river might be, was not far away, and that it must be a branch of the St.

John. And between the two, farther on, were the King's mast-cutters.

Her hopes rose high. How good it would be to see white men she could trust. They would help her to reach home, she felt certain.

They were moving down a gentle slope now, and making fair progress.

Suddenly Sam stopped, and examined strange straggling tracks in the snow. Kitty and Jean also looked, the latter asking what they meant.

"White man," Sam explained. "No snow-shoe."

"Are they slashers?" Jean anxiously enquired.

Sam shook his head, and examined the tracks more closely.

"No slasher, no snow-shoe," he said. "Funny track, all sam' lost."

As they proceeded, they came across other tracks, showing where men had been walking through the snow, wandering here and there, in an apparently aimless manner. Sam became very curious now, as well as cautious. He took the musket from Kitty, and carried it in readiness for any emergency. Jean was quite excited, and peered keenly ahead, not knowing what to expect next.

Except for the creaking of the snow-shoes, not a sound did they make as they sped onward, and in about half an hour the trees seemed suddenly to part and present an open s.p.a.ce to their view. It was the A-jem-sek, a narrow stream connecting Lake K'tchi-kwis-pam with the Wu-las-tukw, so Sam explained to Jean. As they stepped out upon this river they saw two men but a short distance away, drawing a small sled loaded with wood, who stared with startled amazement at the sudden appearance of the three travellers.

CHAPTER XXII

IN DESPERATE STRAITS

As they advanced toward where the two men were standing, Jean was somewhat afraid lest they might be slashers. This fear, however, was at once removed when she beheld their pitiable condition. Their clothes were in tatters, and their bearded faces were drawn and haggard. They stared at her with eyes from which all hope had fled, and so weak did they seem that they could hardly stand. Their backs were bent as if through age, and they rested their hands upon the loaded sled for support. As Jean paused, smitten by a sudden feeling of awe, one of the men wearily lifted his hand and beckoned to her.

"Who are you?" she asked, when she had drawn near.