"'Tis much the same," said Law, "where home may be for me."
"Ah, but 'tis different on the Lakes," said Du Mesne, "for there we always knew the way back, and knew that 'twas down stream."
"He says well," broke in Mary Connynge. "There is something in this big river that chills me. I am afraid."
"And what say you, Tête Gris, and you, Pierre Noir?" asked Law.
"Why, myself," replied the former, "I am with the captain. It matters not. There must always be one trail from which one does not return."
"Oui," said Pierre Noir. "To be sure, we have passed as good beaver country as heart of man could ask; but never was land so good but there was better just beyond."
"They say well, Du Mesne," spoke John Law, presently; "'tis better on beyond. Suppose we never do return? Did I not say to you that I would leave this other world as far behind me as might be?"
"Eh bien, Monsieur L'as, you reply with spirit, as ever," replied Du Mesne, "and it is not for me to stand in the way. My own fortune and family are also with me, and home is where my fire is lit."
"Very well," replied Law. "Let us run the river to its mouth, if need be. 'Tis all one to me. And whether we get back or not, 'tis another tale."
"Oh, I make no doubt we shall win back if need be," replied Du Mesne. "'Tis said the savages know the ways by the Divine River of the Illini to the foot of Michiganon; and that, perhaps, might be our best way back to the Lakes and to the Mountain with our beaver. We shall, provided we reach the Divine River, as I should guess by the stories I have heard, be then below the Illini, the Ottawas and the Miamis, with I know not what tribes from west of the Messasebe. 'Tis for you to say, Monsieur L'as, but for my own part—and 'tis but a hazard at best—I would say remain here, or press on to the river of the Illini."