"Missionary?" Jean asked.

"A-ha-ha. Long black robe. Cross, all sam' dis," and Sam made the
form of the symbol of salvation with his forefinger.

Jean knew that he referred to some French missionary who had visited
the country.

"And he taught you about the Great Father?"

"A-ha-ha. Long black robe come up Wu-las-tukw in canoe. Sam no
forget. Sing more, eh?"

Jean did as she was requested, and sang several of the hymns she
remembered. At times she glanced at her dusky companions. Their eyes
shone with pleasure, mingled with admiration as they watched the
reclining girl, and listened to the words of hope and comfort. They
were but unlettered natives of the wild, yet their hearts responded
readily to the concord of sweet sounds. Often the good lying in such
hearts needs but a gentle fanning to burst forth in the beauty of love,
service, and devotion. Little did Jean realise the influence she was
exerting upon those two friendly Indians in that quiet lodge in the
depths of the great forest.




CHAPTER XIX