girl had finished speaking, he
remained for awhile in deep silence.

"Can we do it?" Jean at length asked. "How far is it?"

"Sam go wan sleep, babby two sleep," was the reply.

Jean smiled as she drew herself to her full height.

"Don't you think I can do it in one sleep as well as you?" she
bantered. "Why, I am strong now, almost like an Indian."

"Babby no all sam' Injun yet," Sam reminded. "Bimeby, mebbe."

"But will you go, Sam?"

"A-ha-ha. Wan sleep, Sam go."

"In the morning?"

"Mebbe. Sam see."

With this Jean had to be content. She was pleased that the Indian was
willing to go with her, although she was well aware that he would start
only when he was ready. She talked it over with the women, and a new
hope rose in their hearts when they learned about the King's
mast-cutters.

"What should we have done without you?" one woman remarked with a sob
in her voice. "The Lord surely must have sent you and those Indians
just when our needs were so great. We can never repay you for what you
have done for us."

CHAPTER XXIII

SIX CANDLES AND ONE

The short winter day was drawing to a close as Jean and her two Indian
companions moved down the western side of a long hill. They were
making for the valley below through which ran a small brook, where they
hoped to camp for the night. They had been abroad since morning, and
Jean was now very tired. Her strength was not so great as she had
imagined, and she recalled with amusement her proud boast the day
before. Sam had been right, and she was glad that he did not try to
reach the mast-cutters in "one sleep." She could not possibly do it,
although it would have been easy for the Indians. They had this day
regulated their speed to her feeble steps. But without her how they
would have sped through the forest. They were both wonderful
snow-shoers, and on several occasions she had watched them as they
bounded over the snow with great swinging, tireless strides. Her
admiration of these faithful, self-reliant people was unbounded.

They had almost reached the valley when the report of a gun rang
through the forest, followed in a few seconds by a cry of distress.
Sam stopped dead in his tracks, gripped hard his musket, and peered
keenly among the trees. The next instant he was bounding forward,
leaving Jean and Kitty staring after him.

"What is it?" the girl asked, her face white with fear.

"Kitty no say now," was the reply. "See bime