At first Jean found the walking on the snow-shoes somewhat difficult, and many a tumble did she receive which caused Kitty much amusement. But directed by the Indian woman, she soon overcame her awkwardness and ere long was able to move forward gracefully and rapidly. In two days she was quite an expert, and could even run upon the springing snow-shoes, much to the delight of the two natives.
"Ka-lo-ut. Ka-lo-ut—Good. Good," was Sam's comment as he watched her coming off the lake at the end of the second day of training. "Babby walk all sam' Injun now."
The next morning the Indians began to pack up their few belongings, and Jean was delighted when they told her that at last the long overland journey was to begin. The streams were now frozen, and the travelling good.
"How long will it take us to make the journey?" Jean asked Sam.
"Long tam. Wan moon, mebbe. Two moon, mebbe."
"What! two months?"
"A-ha-ha, mebbe. See bimeby."
It was near mid-day when at last everything was ready and they left the little lodge by the lake and plunged into the forest. A pang of regret smote Jean's heart as she cast a backward glance upon the humble abode. She had spent happy days there, and it had been to her a place of refuge from her pursuers. She knew that she would never see it again. Suppose Dane should come to the lodge and find it deserted!
The journey through the forest was of necessity slow. With a pack upon his back, and drawing a small sled loaded with blankets and food, Sam went ahead and broke the trail. Kitty followed, also carrying a heavy load and the musket. Jean brought up the rear, and she found the walking quite easy owing to the excellent trail beaten down by her thoughtful companions. She had insisted upon carrying something, so a small pack had been made up for her and strapped in Indian fashion across her shoulders. This pleased her, as she felt that she was doing a little, at any rate, to help.
It was a wonderful region through which they moved. Up hill and down, across wild meadows and frozen swamps. Most of the time they travelled through great forest tracts, unharmed as yet by fire or axe. The trees, thick-set and tall, reminded Jean of great masts. A brooding silence reigned in these sombre depths, broken only by an occasional chatter of a surprised squirrel, the whirr of a partridge, or the cheepings of the little chickadees as they hopped from branch to branch. Once during the afternoon they stopped and ate a little of the cooked food Kitty had brought along. Jean was glad of this rest, for notwithstanding the training she had received, she was quite weary. She was most thankful when that evening Sam halted by the side of a little brook, unslung his pack and laid it upon the snow.