"Where is your village, Kashaqua?" she asked.

"You not know my village? Way back 'cross Mooselamoo," answered
Kashaqua.

"Perhaps I can go there some time," suggested Faith. But Kashaqua
shook her head.

For several hours they walked steadily on through the autumn woods.
They climbed several rocky ridges, crossed brooks, and carefully made
their way over a swampy stretch of ground. Faith was very tired when
Kashaqua finally swung the baskets and bundles from her shoulders and
declared that it was time to eat.

The trail had led them up a hill, and as Faith, with a little tired
sigh, seated herself on a moss-covered rock, she looked about with a
little exclamation of wonder. Close beside the trail was a rough
shelter made of the boughs of spruce and fir trees, and near at hand
was piled a quantity of wood ready for a fire. There was a clearing,
and the rough shelter was shaded by two fine oak trees.

"Does somebody live here?" asked Faith.

"Traveler's wigwam," explained Kashaqua, who was unpacking the lunch
basket with many grunts of satisfaction. "White men going down the
trail to big road to Shoreham sleep here," she added, holding up a
fine round molasses cake in one hand and a roasted chicken in the
other.

Faith was hungry as well as tired, and the two friends ate with good
appetite. Kashaqua repacked the basket with what remained of the food,
and with a pleasant nod to Faith declared she would "sleep a little,"
and curled herself up near the shelter.

Faith looked about the rough camp, and peered down the trail. She
decided she too would sleep a little, and stretched herself out close
beside Kashaqua, thinking that it was a wonderful thing to be so far
from home,--nearly in sight of Lake Champlain, Kashaqua had told her,
with an Indian woman for her guide and protector; and then her eyes
closed and she was sound asleep.

It seemed to Faith that she had not slept a minute before she awakened
suddenly, and found that Kashaqua had disappeared. But she heard a
queer scrambling sound behind her and sat up and looked around. For a
moment she was too frightened to speak, for a brown bear was clawing
the remainder of their luncheon from the basket, grunting and
sniffing, as if well pleased with what he found.

As Faith looked at him she was sure that this creature had dragged
Kashaqua off into the woods, and that he might turn and seize her as
soon as he had finished with the basket.

"Kashaqua! Kashaqua