CHAPTER XX.
HOW PIERRE RADISSON SLEPT.
When I woke, it was in the midst of a grave silence. That may scarce mean sense, yet to the full it expresses the feeling that came upon me when I opened my eyes and looked about me. I was sitting against the cave wall, Ruth at my side, and Grim, his great honest dog's eyes full of pain, crouching and looking up at me.
Now the little cave was full of light and men—Uchichak and other chiefs of the Crees, who were standing silent before me, while the light smoke from the dry wood drove past us in the draught. Ruth was bathing my face with water, but I pushed her hand away. This silence among so many boded ill, and oppressed me strangely. I remembered Radisson, and sought for him through the crowding forms.
He was sitting against the wall, with the Swift Arrow at his side, their hands clasped. But, although the Mohawk was well-nigh gone, never had Radisson's face seemed happier, younger and nobler. Hope leaped into my heart that he had not been as sore stricken as we had thought.
Ruth helped me to my feet. We went over and sat beside him. His hand closed on ours, and he smiled kindly on Ruth.
"Well does the Great Swift Arrow deserve his name," he said softly, so that the dying eyes of the old chief lit up. "He brought Uchichak to us and sped on ahead of him, and so saved us all."
"Then you are not so badly hurt?" I exclaimed joyfully. Radisson chuckled, and made answer in his old rich, laughing voice.
"Hurt? Why, lad, I have triumphed! The Keeper, the Swift Arrow and I will travel the last trail together ere long, but see!" And he waved the paper of Hudson aloft as might a boy, then his eyes went to the Cree chiefs, and he spoke in their own tongue.
"My brothers, White Eagle goes upon the spirit-trail. But first he would tell you that in the days to come, white men shall arrive among you. Do not make war upon them, my brothers. They will trade with you for your furs, and will bring much good to you. Will you remember this?"
"We will remember," answered The Crane gravely, and a murmur passed around among the other chiefs. The head of Swift Arrow suddenly sank forward and his hand dropped from that of Radisson. The Mohawk had not waited.