"Don't press him too closely. Faith, it may be a love token," interjected Father Holland, as he stepped ashore; but he whispered in my ear as he passed, "You're wrong, lad! You're on the wrong track!"
I leaped back to the canoe, Little Fellow and the Frenchman following, and we paddled to the shallows where I had caught the fringe. I prodded the soft mud below and trailed the paddle back and forward over the clay bottom. Louis did likewise; but in vain. Only soft ooze came up on the blade. Then Little Fellow stripped and dived. Of course it was dark under water, as it always is dark under the muddy Red, and the Indian could not feel a thing from which fringe could have ripped. Had my jerk disturbed whatever it was and sent it rolling down to mid-current? I asked Father Holland this when I came back.
"Tush, faint-heart," he muttered, drawing me aside. "'Tis only a trial of your faith."
I said something about trials of faith which I shall not repeat here, but which the majority of people, who are on the tenter-hooks of such trials, have said for themselves.
"Faith! Pah!" exclaimed Louis, joining our whispered conference, while Eric and Mr. Sutherland were hoisting a tent. "That shawl, it mean nodings of things heavenly! It only mean rag stuck in the mud and reds nearabouts here! I have told the Great Bear and his snarl Englishman the Indians not come till morning. They get tent ready and watch! You follow Louis, he lead you to camp. The priest—he good for say a little prayer; the Indian for fight; Louis—for swear; Rufus—to snatch the Englishwoman, he good at snatching the fair, ha-ha."
He darted to the shore, calling Little Fellow from the canoe and leaving Father Holland and me to follow as best we could.
"We'll be back soon, Eric," I shouted. "We're going to get the lie of the land. Keep watch here," and I broke into a run to keep up with the French trapper and the Indian, who were leading into the woods away from the river. I could hear Father Holland puffing behind like a wind-blown racer. Abruptly the priest came to a stop.
"By all the saints," he ordered. "Go back to the tent!"
I turned. A white form emerged from the foliage and Frances was beside me.
"May I not come?" she asked.