“Dey am wid de pack-hoss, Massa de Croix,” was the oily answer.  “I done s’posed you would n’t need ’em till we got thar.”

“Need them!  Little you know the requirements of a gentleman!  Saint Guise!  Why, I shall want them both this very day!  Ride you forward there, and see if they cannot be picked out from among the other things.”

“See, Monsieur!” cried Mademoiselle suddenly, one hand pressing my arm, while she pointed eagerly with the other, “there goes the boat with Mistress Kinzie and her children!  That must be Josette in the bow, with the gay streamer about her hat.  She did wish so to ride with us, but Mr. Kinzie would not permit it.”

The boat had but just cleared the river mouth, and was working off-shore, with half a dozen Indians laboring at the oars.

“Yet Josette has by far the easiest passage, as we shall learn before night,” said I, watching their progress curiously.  “I imagine you will soon be wishing you were with them.”

“Never, Master Wayland!” she cried, with a little shudder, and quick uplifting of hands to her face as if to shut out the sight.  “Memory of the hours when I was last on the lake is still too vivid.  I have grown to dread the water as if it were an evil spirit.  See! the column resumes its march, and the savages are moving beside us as might a guard of honor.”

It was as she had said.  The long, hard journey had begun; and slowly, like some great snake torpid with a winter’s sleep, the crawling column drew forward.  We at the rear rode down the incline and out upon the level plain, every step an unconscious advance toward battle and death.

CHAPTER XXV

IM THE JAWS OF THE TIGER

We chatted carelessly about many things, as we rode slowly onward, our unguided horses following those in advance along the well-marked trail close beside the water along the sandy beach.  Mademoiselle was full of life and bubbling over with good-humor; while De Croix, having found the essentials of his toilet safe, grew witty and light of speech, even interesting me now and then in the idle words that floated to my ears,—­for he managed to monopolize the attention of the young girl so thoroughly that after a little time I sat silent in my saddle, scarce adding a word to their gay tilt, my eyes and thought upon the changing scene ahead.

I know not why, as I reflect calmly upon the incidents of that morning, I should have grown so confident that the savages meant us fair; yet this feeling steadily took possession of me, and I even began to regret that I had not stayed behind in quest of her for whom I had come so far.  Surely it was hopeless for me to dangle longer beside Mademoiselle, for De Croix knew so well the little ins and cuts of social intercourse that I was like a child for his play.  Moreover, it was clear enough that the girl liked him, or he would never presume so to monopolize her attention.  That she saw through much of his vain pretence, was indeed probable; her words had conveyed this to me.  Nevertheless, it was plain she found him entertaining; he was like a glittering jewel in that rough wilderness, and I was too dull of brain and narrow of experience to hope for success against him in a struggle for the favor of a girl so fair and gay as this Toinette.