zed, an unquestionably hopeless undertaking
for him to attempt to reach his tilt alone, and he finally dismissed
the idea as impracticable. Perhaps in the morning he could induce them
to take him there. That, he concluded, was the only plan for him to
follow. So far they had been very kind and he could see no reason why
they should wish to detain him against his will.

The Indians were indeed Nascaupee Indians, but instead of being the
ruthless cut-throats that the Mountaineers and the legends of the
coast had painted them, they were human and hospitable, as all our
eastern Indians were before white men taught them to be thieves and
drove and goaded them--by the white man's own treachery--to acts of
reprisal and revenge.

These Nascaupees, living as they did in a country inaccessible to the
white ravishers, had none but kindly motives in their treatment of Bob
and had no desire to do him harm. On the morning that Bob fell in the
snow Shish-e-ta-ku-shin--Loud-voice--and his son Moo-koo-mahn--Big
Knife--had left their wigwam early to hunt. Not far away they crossed
Bob's trail. Their practiced eye told them that the traveller was not
an Indian, for the snow-shoes he wore were not of Indian make, and
also, from the uncertain, wobbly trail, they decided that he was far
spent. So they followed the tracks and within a few minutes after Bob
had fallen found him. They carried him to the wigwam and rubbed his
frosted limbs and face until it was quite safe to wrap him in the
deerskins in the warm wigwam.

They did not know who he was nor where he came from, but they did know
that he needed care and several days of quiet. He was a stranger and
they took him in. These poor heathens had never heard of Christ or His
teachings, but their hearts were human. And so it was that Bob found
himself amongst friends and was rescued from what seemed certain
death.

When morning came Bob tried in every conceivable way to make them
understand that he wished to be taken back, but he found it a quite
hopeless task. No signs or pantomime could make them comprehend his
meaning, and it appeared that he was doomed to remain with them. The
shock of exposure had been so great that he was still very weak and
not able to walk, as he quickly realized when he tried to move about,
and he was compelled to remain within in the company of the women, in
spite of his desire to go out and reconnoitre.

Ma-ni-ka-wan, the maiden, took it upon herself to be his