Footnote 2: The Butterfly.]

"She is Ojibway, then," exclaimed Dick, catching at the Ojibway word.

"Ae," admitted the Cree, indifferently. Such inclusions of another
tribe, either by adoption or marriage, are not uncommon.

At this moment the third Indian approached.

"No moccasins," he reported. "Plenty buckskin."

Sam Bolton looked troubled. This meant a delay. However, it could not be
avoided.

"Let the old women make some," he decided.

The Cree old-man shook his head.

"That cannot be. There is not time. We turn our canoes to the
Missinaibie by next sun."

Sam pondered again, turning over in his mind this fresh complication.
But Dick, kicking the earth clods in impatience, broke in.

"Well, we're going by the Missinaibie, too. Let the women make the
moccasins. We will accompany you."

"That might be," replied the Indian.

"It is well," said Bolton.

An old woman was summoned. She measured her customers' feet with a
buckskin thong. Then they departed without further ceremony. An Indian
rarely says farewell. When his business is finished he goes.

"Dick," said Sam, "you ought not to have broke in there."

"What do you mean?" asked the other, puzzled.

"Suggesting our travelling with them."

"Why?" cried Dick in astonishment. "Ain't you never travelled with
Injuns before?"

"That ain't th' question. Did you notice that third Injun? the one who
didn't do any talking?"

"Sure! What of him?"

"Well, he's an Ojibway. Th' rest are Wood Crees. And I miss my guess if
he ain't a bad customer. He watched us mighty close, and his eyes are
bad. He's sharp. He's one of that wondering kind. He's wondering now who
we are, and where we're going, and why we're hitting so long a trail.
And what's more, he belongs to this Jingoss's people in a roundabout
sort of way. He's worse than fifty Crees. Maybe he knows all about
Jingoss, and if he does, he'll get suspicious the minute we angle down
into that country."

"Let's let 'em slide, then," suggested Dick, impatiently. "Let's buy
some buckskin and make our own moccasins."

"Too late now," negatived Sam. "To back out would be bad."

"Oh, well, you're just borrowing trouble anyway," laughed Dick.

"Maybe, maybe," acknowledged the other; "but borrowing trouble, and
then figuring out how you're going to meet it if it comes to you in good
earnest, is mighty good woodcraft."

"Sam," burst out Dick, whose attention had been caught by a word in his
companion's f