eganouan! Father Claude awaits you." There was no reply from the
knot of warriors at the bank, and the priest called again. Finally a
chief came across and looked stolidly at the prisoners.

"My Father called?" he said.

"Your Father is grieved, Long Arrow, that you would bind him like a
soldier taken in war." The priest's voice was gentle. "Is this the
custom of the Onondagas? It was not so when I served you with Father
de Lamberville."

"My Father fought against his children."

"You would have slain me, Long Arrow, had I not."

The Indian walked slowly back to his braves, and for some moments
there was a consultation. Then the other chief came to them, and,
without a word, himself cut the thongs that bound the priest's wrists
and ankles. There was no look of recognition in his eyes as he passed
Menard, though they had been together on many a long hunt. He was the
Beaver.

As the Captain lay on his back, looking first at the kneeling Indian,
then at the sky overhead, he was thinking of the Long Arrow, again
with a half-memory of some other occasion when they had met. Then,
slowly, it came to him. It was at the last council to decide on his
release from captivity, five years before. The Long Arrow had come
from a distant village to urge the death of the prisoner. He had
argued eloquently that to release Menard would be to send forth an
ungrateful son who would one day strike at the hand that had
befriended him.

Father Claude was on his feet, chafing his wrists and talking with the
Beaver. The Long Arrow joined them, and for a few moments the chiefs
reasoned together in low, dignified tones. Then, at a word from the
Beaver, and a grunt of disgust from the Long Arrow, Father Claude,
with quick fingers, set the maid free, and took her head upon his
knee.

"Have they hurt her, Father?" asked Menard, in French.

"No, M'sieu, I think not. It is the excitement. The child sadly needs
rest."

"Will they release you? It is not far to Frontenac. It may be that you
can reach there with Mademoiselle."

"No, my son." The priest paused to dip up some water, and to stroke
the maid's forehead and wrists. "They have some design which has not
been made clear to me. They have promised not to bind me or to injure
what belongs to me among the supplies. But the Beaver threatens to
kill us if we try to escape, Mademoiselle and I."

"Why do they hold you?"

"To let no word go out concerning your capture. I fear, M'sieu--"