I shrugged my shoulders. "And you thought I lied to them?"
She nodded her answer. "The bird who hides her nest cries and makes a great noise and runs away from it," she explained. "You told all the Pottawatamies who would listen that you were going southwest. So I went southeast."
I could afford to let her laugh at me. "We stopped at that island over there," I said, without comment. "Now we will follow this shore line for a distance south. You must go with us. Singing Arrow, did they tell you at the islands that the English prisoner was a woman, and that she is now my wife?"
The girl did not answer nor look in my direction. She pulled her blanket over her head, and sat as stiffly as a badger above his hole. I could not determine whether the news of the marriage was a surprise or not. It did not matter. I lit my pipe and let her work it out.
"Are you coming?" I asked at last. "I must go back to the island now."
She rose and pulled her blanket around her. She was typically Indian at the moment, unreadable and cold. But she nodded in acquiescence and went to her canoe.
I found my own canoe and we paddled side by side. The sun was over the horizon now and fish were jumping. I saw a great bass that must have weighed five pounds spring his whole length out of the water for a fly. A sportsman in France would have traveled leagues to have seen such a fish, and here it lay ready for my hand. Perhaps after all there was no need to search for reasons for the exultation that was possessing me.
A few moments brought us to the island, and we rounded the point and came into the cove. The little camp was awake and startled by my absence. Pierre was searching the horizon from under a red, hairy hand, and Labarthe was looking to the priming of his arquebus. Only the woman sat steadfast. All this I saw at a glance.
I rushed the canoes to the shore, and helped the Indian girl to alight as I would have helped any woman. I gave one look at the men, and said, "Be still," and then I led Singing Arrow to the woman.
"Madame," I said, "here is the Indian girl who befriended you when you were a prisoner. It was she who passed us last night. She comes to me with documents from Cadillac, and I have great reason to be grateful to her. I commend her to you, madame."