up his head to get the falling hair out of his eyes and fell to with a
relish.

"Faugh!" said De Courtenay with the first mouthful; "I wonder, M'sieu,
is there nothing we can do to hasten the end? Many meals of this would
equal the stake."

Whereat the gallant smilingly tossed the meat and its birchbark platter
at the woman's feet.

"If you would not prefer starvation, I would suggest that you crawl for
that, M'sieu," said McElroy gravely; but the wrinkled hag gathered it
up, and left them to the night that was fast settling over the forest.

Thus began the long trail up to the waters of Churchill and beyond into
that unknown region where few white men had yet penetrated, and fewer
still returned.

CHAPTER XVI TRAVEL

Day followed day. Summer was upon the land, early summer, with the sweet
winds stirring upon the waters, with gauze-winged creatures flitting
above the shallows where willow and vine-maple fringed the edges and
silver fish leaped to their undoing, with fleecy clouds floating in a
sapphire sky, and birds straining their little throats in the forest.

McElroy and De Courtenay were loosed of their bonds and given paddles in
the canoes, a change which was welcomed gladly.

At night a guard paced their sleeping-place and the strictest
surveillance was kept over them.

Down the Assiniboine, into Red River, and across Portage la Prairie went
the great flotilla, green shores winding past in an endless pageant of
foliage, all hands falling to at the portages and trailing silently for
many pipes, one behind the other, all laden with provisions and packs of
furs, the canoes upturned and carried on heads and shoulders.

Of unfailing spirits was Alfred de Courteray.

"'Od's blood, M'sieu," he would laugh, oddly mixing his dialect, "but
this is seeing the wilderness with a vengeance! Though there is no lack
of variety to speed the days, yet I would I were back in my post of
Brisac on the Saskatchewan, with a keg of good-liquor on the table
and my hearty voyaguers shouting their chansons outside, my clerks and
traders making merry within. Eh, M'sieu, is it not a better picture?"

"For you, no doubt. For me, I had rather contemplate a prayer-book and
recall my mother's teaching in these days," answered McElroy simply.

"What it is to have sins upon one's conscience!" sighed the venturer.
"Verily, it must preclude all pleasant thoughts." And he fell to humming
a gay French air.

Presently the foaming r