In the meantime the Indian woman had been very busy. She had gathered
the few cooking utensils together, and was now rolling up the blankets
and skins. Presently Sam assisted her, and in a remarkably short time
they were ready for their journey.

Jean begged to be allowed to carry something, but Sam shook his head as
he pointed to her shoulders and feet.

"No strong," he said. "Feet leetle. Bimeby Injun pack babby, mebbe,
eh?"

"Oh, I hope not," the girl smilingly replied. "I must walk to-day."

With their packs strapped upon their backs, Sam picked up his musket,
and Kitty the axe. With a final glance around to see that nothing was
overlooked, Sam led the way among the trees, with Jean following, and
Kitty bringing up in the rear.

All through the afternoon they pressed forward along the silent forest
ways. Occasionally the Indians halted that the girl might rest. Their
care of her was remarkable, and to them she seemed like a mere child.
It was quite evident that they had taken her to their hearts, and that
nothing was too good for her.

Jean was surprised at herself for standing the journey so well.
Although very tired at times, she never once complained. She was not
accustomed to moccasins, and the roots and stones bruised her feet. Up
hill and down they moved, across valleys, swamps, and wild meadows.
There was no trail, but Sam led the way with an unerring instinct. He
chose the smoothest spots, but even these were hard for the girl's