He opened his eyes now for the first time to see and satisfy himself as to whether it was the tent or the tilt he was in, and what he saw astonished and brought him to his senses very quickly.

He recognized at once the interior of an Indian wigwam.  In the centre a fire was burning and an Indian woman was leaning over it stirring the contents of a kettle.  On the opposite side of the fire from her sat a young Indian maiden of about Bob’s own age netting the babiche in a snow-shoe, her fingers plying deftly in and out.  The woman and girl wore deerskin garments of peculiar design.  The former was fat and ugly, the latter slender, and very comely, he thought, from her sleek black hair to her feet encased in daintily worked little moccasins.  At that moment she glanced towards him and said something to her companion, who turned in his direction also.

“Where am I?” he asked wonderingly and with some alarm.

They both laughed and jabbered then in their Indian tongue but he could not understand a word they said.  The girl lay aside the snow-shoe and babiche and, taking up a tin cup, dipped some hot broth from the kettle and offered it to him.  He accepted it gladly for he was thirsty and felt unaccountably weak.  The broth contained no salt or flavouring of any kind, but was very refreshing.  When he had finished it he put the cup down and attempted to rise but this movement brought forth a flood of Indian expostulations and he was forced to lie quiet again.

It was very evident that he was either considered an invalid too ill to move or was held in bondage.  He had never heard that Indian captives were tucked into soft deerskin robes and fed broth by comely Indian maidens, however, and if he were a prisoner it did not promise to be so very disagreeable a captivity.

On the whole it was very pleasant and restful lying there on the soft skins of which his bed was composed, for he still felt tired and weak.  He took in every detail of his surroundings.  The wigwam was circular in form and of good size.  It was made of reindeer skins stretched over poles very dingy and black, with an opening at the top to permit the smoke from the fire in the centre to escape.  Flat stones raised slightly above the ground served as a fireplace, and around it were thickly laid spruce boughs.  Some strips of jerked venison hung from the poles above, and near his feet he glimpsed his own gun and powder horn.

Bob could see at once that these Indians were much more primitive than those he knew at the Bay and, unfamiliar as he was with the Indian language, he noticed a marked difference in the intonation and inflection when the woman spoke.

“Now,” said Bob to himself, “th’ Nascaupees must ha’ found me an’ these be Nascaupees.  But Mountaineers an’ every one says Nascaupees be savage an’ cruel, an’ I’m not knowin’ what un be.  ’Tis queer—­most wonderful queer.”