"The chief can see what our business is," answered Flying Bird steadily. "Does the Frenchman wish to be assured that these are fish?"—and he held up one of their catch—"or does he suspect us of other business? As to who we are, this is a party of Hurons from the south country. We are awaiting a palaver with your big chief. That is all."
He baited his hook and tossed it into the river, turning away at once and ignoring the Frenchman. But Jules was a man of keen perception, and possessed of a suspicious mind. Unknown to Steve, he had recently come to Quebec to take up some duty there, and had almost instantly heard of the escape of the prisoner whom he had cruelly ordered to be executed down at Ticonderoga. A backwoodsman, such as he was, knew the difficulties with which a fugitive would have to contend, and he had at once assured himself that Steve must have friends who were helping him, and that in place of making away from the neighbourhood of the city at once, he was probably in hiding close at hand, awaiting a favourable opportunity to escape.
"And this is just the party to help him," he said to himself as he stared at the occupants of the canoe. "I will not let him slip through my fingers if he is here. We will go a little closer, and then have a look at the far side. It is distinctly suspicious that they should have their faces turned away."
Very slowly the big boat was rowed past the canoe till she was above her. Then she dropped down again, and drifted past while Jules Lapon, standing at the tiller, and still wrapped in his cloak, carefully scrutinized the painted faces before him. Jim's angular features he passed without a second look, while Mac stared back at the Frenchman with a boldness and an impudence which had the desired effect. He went on to Steve, found nothing suspicious in his open face, and passing Pete, Silver Fox, and Flying Bird in turn, came at length to Mr. Mainwaring. Something in the strong face and in the huge build of this brave seemed to strike him. He gave an exclamation, and, bending forward, looked closer. Then his sallow cheeks were suddenly suffused, he bent forward to take a closer view, swept his eyes along the occupants of the canoe again, and stopped when he came to Steve.
"The prisoner," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Hurrah! I have found him as I had hoped to do. Cover them with your muskets. Drop those paddles and sit upright or we will fire."
Jules had indeed made a discovery of the utmost importance. But he was a man who always found it hard to curb his passions or his impetuosity. Had he done so now, he would first have warned his men that he had made some discovery, and so have had them in readiness. As it was, the four soldiers who sat in the boat did not understand a word of Huron, and had no knowledge of what had passed. They had been on this duty for the past six days, and were heartily tired of it, particularly as this leader of theirs had already treated them to more than one false alarm. They sat half asleep, lolling against the thwarts, by no means pleased to be turned out at such an early hour without their breakfasts. The sudden order took them absolutely by surprise. They had not even powdered the pans of their muskets.
"Peste! Up with your muskets and cover them, fools!" shouted Jules, seeing them hesitate. "I tell you that that is the prisoner. Shoot him down if he moves a muscle."
"You will be good enough to seat yourself, Monsieur Jules. Jim, you are our best shot, and will cover him."
It was Steve's voice which spoke, and at the order the heavy deckard which the trapper carried went to his shoulder, and his eye squinted along the sights.