“Wild Deer?”
“Jean Jacques?”
Wild Deer was the name by which the friendly Micmacs called him. Now for the test. Was the Indian true?
“Wild Deer, the great medicine man of your tribe is on the trail.”
“I know. What wilt thou do? Betray me to him?”
The low-breathed question and answer swept quickly back and forth.
“The red man betrays not him who is skilled as himself.”
“What wilt thou do then?”
“Let Wild Deer descend and follow his friend.”
Gliding to the ground with a noiselessness and rapidity equal to that of the Indian, Gabriel, at a sign from his companion, followed him on his sinuous track. Was he his friend? He had dwelt too long with the red men not to dread the treachery which is the inevitable consequence of centuries of savage and relentless warfare, tribe with tribe, red man with white man. Nevertheless, he pushed on; what else could he do?