Bela considered this, frowning. An instinct in her own breast told her the old man was right, but it was hard to resign herself to an extended campaign. Spring was in the air, and her need to escape from the Fish-Eaters great.
"All right," she agreed sullenly at last.
"How you goin' pick out best man of the five?" asked Musq'oosis slyly.
"I tak' the strongest man," she answered promptly.
He shook his head in his exasperating way. "How you goin' know the strongest?"
"Who carries the biggest pack," she said, surprised at such a foolish question.
Musq'oosis's head still wagged. "Red man carry bigger pack than white man," he said oracularly. "Red man's arm and his leg and his back strong as white man. But white man is the master. Why is that?"
She had no answer.
"I tell you," he went on. "Who is the best man in this country?"
"Bishop Lajeunesse," she replied unhesitatingly.