“I never saw anything like it” Jean told Kitty.  “Have you seen it?”

“A-ha-ha, me see’m,” the Indian woman replied without the least sign of enthusiasm.  “Kitty see plenty.  Trail bad.  Ice heavy.  Branch hang down.  Bad.  Ugh!”

“Perhaps it will keep back those men who are following us,” Jean suggested.  “They may not be able to get through the forest.”

Kitty shook her head as she looked out upon the lake.

“Ice no stop white man.  Trees beeg, no ice, trail good.  Sam come bimeby.  Sam know.”

“Where is Sam now?”

“Sam watch slashers.  Sam gone long tam.  Come bimeby.”

“What will he do if the white men come here?”

“White man no come.”

The woman rose to her feet and looked off to the high peak in the distance.  Then she sat down near the opening where she could watch the hill without too much trouble.  Jean wondered at this, although she made no comment.  No doubt she would understand in time.

“Have you lived long in this place?” she asked.

“Two, t’ree winter, mebbe.”

“Where do you live in the summer?”

“Many place; Wa-sit-um-o-wek; Wu-las-tukw; Beeg Lake, some tam.”

“Where is Big Lake?”

“Way dere,” and Kitty motioned westward.  “Go dere bimeby.”

“You often meet white people, I suppose?”

“A-ha-ha.”

“Do you and Sam always travel alone?  Are there other Indians around here?”

“Plenty Injun sometam’.  See’m bimeby, mebbe.”  Again she glanced toward the distant hill.

“Have you any children?” Jean asked.

“No babby now.  Babby all die.”

“But Pete has children, has he not?”

“A-ha-ha.  Pete plenty babby.”

“Why, then, did he bring his baby to me when its mother died?  Why did not you take care of it?”

Kitty looked quizzically at the girl before replying.

“Dane no tell, eh?” she queried.

“Tell what?”

“Why Pete leave babby.”

“No, he never told me.  Perhaps he didn’t know.”

“Pete know.  Pete find out ’bout King George peep’l.  See?”

Noticing the puzzled expression upon the girl’s face, the woman smiled.

“Pete no sure ’bout white peep’l,” she continued.  “Pete leave leetle babby.  All good t’ leetle babby.  Pete trust King George peep’l.  Pete no forget.”

A new light now came into Jean’s mind, and she partly understood why the baby had been left at the settlement.  It was simply a plan on Pete’s part to learn whether the Loyalists were worthy of his trust and special attention.  Never for an instant had she thought of such a thing.  When that little waif had been brought to her home that night of the wild storm, she and old Mammy had taken it to their hearts, and had done all they could for its welfare.  But how much it had meant to her.  Pete had spread the word abroad among his own people,