Great Spirit. She understood now, as never before, how the designs for
the first cathedral had been copied from the forest.

Lowering her eyes, they rested upon the Indian woman kneeling before
the fire. It was a fascinating scene, and in keeping with the solemn
grandeur of the place. There was the humble worshipper at the
altar-fire, offering her devotions in a simple reverent manner. Jean
smiled at this fancy, for she was certain that the idea of worship was
not at all in the woman's mind. She was merely cooking the partridges
her husband had brought in several hours before.

"Good morning," Jean at length accosted.

The woman turned quickly, and rose to her feet. She smiled as she
stood and watched the girl lying there with her hair tossed in rich
profusion over cheeks and shoulders.

"Plenty sleep, eh?" she asked.

"Yes, I have had a great sleep, and am much rested. It is very
comfortable here."

"Hungry, eh?"

"Why, I believe I am," and Jean laughed. "What are you cooking?"

"Bird. Sam ketch'm. Good. Smell'm?"

"I certainly do, and it makes my mouth water."