"It will not take many days," said the Indian. "But the woods are thick, the rocks many, and part of the way there is no trail."
"Still you will find the nearest road?"
"Does the crow fly crooked, or the nighthawk backward?" Big Thunder asked, sedately resuming his pipe.
"Nor does the Indian forget his cunning, nor the white man to reward his friend," said the Colonel, gravely. "You are going on the business of the Great Father, and he will expect his red brother of the forest to do his best."
"It is well. We will go quickly, and blaze the trees on the road, so that a fool, though blindfold, could find his way back again."
"Could not a bridle path be made through the woods to carry provisions overland from Little York to Penetang?" suggested the Chaplain.
"A good idea," returned Sir George. "We need them badly enough, and it will not do at present to depend upon securing supplies by water."
"A good trail can be made, but it will take two or three suns longer," was Nenimkee's comment.
"We will leave it in your hands, then," said Sir George, rising to close the interview.
"The white chief shall be satisfied." With this, Nenimkee left them, and at sunrise on the following morning he started with his party for Little York.