“Sam help white woman, eh?” he queried.

“Thank you,” Jean panted.  “You are very good.”

With the native’s assistance, she was thus enabled to make much better progress.  How strong he was!  He kept her from falling, and lifted her bodily at times over a root or a fallen log.  And he was gentle, too, stopping to rest as they climbed some hill, and speaking words of encouragement.

“White woman no strong,” he said.  “White woman all sam’ Injun bimeby.”

To Jean it seemed as if their journey through the forest would never end.  She was so tired, and her feet very sore.  Gradually her strength and courage weakened, and her steps lagged.  At length she stopped, and her body trembled.  She could go no farther.  She just wanted to lie down and rest.  Then she tottered, and would have fallen had not the Indian caught her in his powerful arms.

“White woman all sam’ babby,” he said.  “Injun tote white woman, eh?”

“No, no, you must not carry me!” Jean protested.  “I am too heavy.”

The Indian’s only reply was a grunt of amusement, as he started forth with the girl in his arms.  What a tower of strength he seemed as he moved through the forest and the night.  Not once did he stumble, and his going was almost noiseless.  Jean wondered where he was taking her.  But she did not worry, for this native inspired her with confidence, and she firmly believed that he was really her friend.  Anyway, she was too tired to think.  She only longed to lay down her weary body and aching head and rest.

The Indian did not have to carry her far, for suddenly a light pierced the darkness, and in a few minutes they were by a camp-fire.  A woman was standing there, and Jean recognised her immediately as the one she had met that afternoon, and who had examined the little arrow-brooch.  She glanced quickly at her rescuer, and knew him, too.  A sigh of relief escaped her lips.  Never were friends more welcome.

Near the fire was a brush lean-to, and gently the Indian laid the girl down upon some soft furs and blankets.  He smiled with satisfaction as he did this, and so overcome was Jean with gratitude, that she caught his great rough brown hand in both of hers, and held it fast.  Tears were in her eyes as she looked upon his honest face.

“Thank you, oh, thank you,” she murmured.  “You have saved my life.  How can I ever repay you?”

“Sam no want pay,” was the quiet reply.  “Sam glad save white woman.”

The woman now came and knelt by the girl’s side.  She looked into her eyes, stroked her tangled hair, and touched the Love-Charm at her throat.

“Poor babby!  Poor babby!” she crooned.  “Hard tam, eh? white man bad, ugh!”

“Why do you say ’white man’?” Jean asked in surprise.  “Indians carried me away.  You saw them this afternoon.”

Suddenly a suspicion flashed into her mind, which caused her to sit bolt upright.  Did a white man have anything to do with it?  And was that man Seth Lupin?  But why had she not seen him?  Then she thought of that wild cry of despair outside the lodge, which had caused her such terror.  She looked into the Indian woman’s face.