Except for the creaking of the snow-shoes, not a sound did they make as they sped onward, and in about half an hour the trees seemed suddenly to part and present an open space to their view. It was the A-jem-sek, a narrow stream connecting Lake K'tchi-kwis-pam with the Wu-las-tukw, so Sam explained to Jean. As they stepped out upon this river they saw two men but a short distance away, drawing a small sled loaded with wood, who stared with startled amazement at the sudden appearance of the three travellers.
CHAPTER XXII
IN DESPERATE STRAITS
As they advanced toward where the two men were standing, Jean was somewhat afraid lest they might be slashers. This fear, however, was at once removed when she beheld their pitiable condition. Their clothes were in tatters, and their bearded faces were drawn and haggard. They stared at her with eyes from which all hope had fled, and so weak did they seem that they could hardly stand. Their backs were bent as if through age, and they rested their hands upon the loaded sled for support. As Jean paused, smitten by a sudden feeling of awe, one of the men wearily lifted his hand and beckoned to her.
"Who are you?" she asked, when she had drawn near.
"We are as dead men," was the hollow reply. "But in God's name, who are you?"
"I am Jean Sterling, daughter of Colonel Sterling. I was carried away from home, but was rescued by these Indians, who are now taking me back to my father."
"Ay, we heard of you, did we not, James?" the man enquired, turning to his companion.
"Ay, we heard of you, Miss, on our way here, as William says," the other replied, "But so great have been our own cares and sorrows since then that we have forgotten about you."
"Do you live here?" Jean asked, wondering who these men could be.