"Not this time," said Sir George. "The Great Father sends his men to trade with the Indians up the Ottawa and on the great lakes toward the setting sun."
"Takum squaws too?" was the next question, with a side glance at Helen and the women in the next sleigh.
"Not many squaws," replied Sir George, gravely. "Just enough to make the men behave themselves. More will come by-and-bye."
"When White Bear make bargain squaw nevel speakum," said the Indian, sententiously.
"Do you hear that, Mrs. Manning?" cried the Colonel to Helen, who was near enough to hear the words of the conversation. "But we must drive on. I am glad to have met you, Chief."
Again they shook hands; White Bear once more raised his right hand above his head as before; and, simultaneously, the band of Indians joined in the parting salutation, "Kwa."
The tone was so fierce and loud that the women started. It sounded more like a war-whoop than an expression of good-will; and they were glad to commence their journey again. But the Indians remained where they were until the last of the sleighs had passed. Then Sir George raised his helmet in salute, and in answer to his courtesy, White Bear pulled off his mink skin and once more yelled "Kwa." Whereupon the sleighs quickened their speed to make up for lost time, while the Indians returned to their lodges.
CHAPTER XIV.
The second night of the long march was passed by all in newly made camps far away from human habitation. It was very different from the first night, in which a comfortable house was secured for the lodging of the women, refreshing both Helen and the soldiers' wives for the next day's travel. But this time they, too, had to abide like the soldiers in the woods.
The sun was still above the horizon when the sleighs reached the little valley in which it was decided to pitch their camp for the night. The spot was well chosen, being sheltered from the winds. It lay close to a little tributary of the Shebenacadie.