How dark and still it was, for the fires had died down into beds of red ash, and only the stars glimmered along the surface of the river. The only movement I could perceive was the dim outline of a man’s figure moving about near the canoes––a watchman on guard, but whether red or white I could not determine. It was already late, well into the night, and the forest about us was black and still. Slowly my head sank to the blanket, and I slept.
CHAPTER X
WE ATTAIN THE OTTAWA
It was not yet dawn when the stir in the camp aroused me, and the sun had not risen above the bluffs, or begun to tinge the river, when our laden canoes left the bank and commenced their day’s journey up stream. De Artigny was off in advance, departing indeed before I had left the tent, the chief seated beside him. I caught but a glimpse of them as the canoe rounded the bend in the bank, and slipped silently away through the lingering shadows, yet it gladdened me to know his eyes were turned toward my tent until they vanished.
Cassion approached me with excessive politeness, waiting until the last moment, and escorting me to the shore. It made me smile to observe his pretense at gallantry, yet I accepted his assistance down the bank with all possible graciousness, speaking to him so pleasantly as to bring a look of surprise to his face. ’Twas plain to be seen that my conduct puzzled him, for although he sought to appear at ease, his words faltered sadly. He, who had so long considered himself as past master of the art of love-making had most unexpectedly 127 encountered a character which he could not comprehend.
However, that his purpose was in no way changed was made evident as we took our places in the canoes. A new distribution had been arranged, Chevet accompanying the sergeant, leaving the Commissaire and me alone, except for the père, who had position in the bow. I observed this new arrangement from underneath lowered lashes, but without comment, quietly taking the place assigned me, and shading my face from the first rays of the sun.
The day which followed was but one of many we were destined to pass in the canoes. I have small recollection of it, except the weariness of my cramped position, and Cassion’s efforts to entertain. Our course kept us close to the north shore, the high banks cutting off all view in that direction, while in the other there was nothing to see but an expanse of water.
Except for a single canoe, laden with furs, and propelled by Indian paddlers, bound for Quebec and a market, we encountered no travelers. These swept past us swiftly in grip of the current, gesticulating, and exchanging salutations, and were soon out of sight. Our own boats scattered, as no danger held us together, and there were hours when we failed to have even a glimpse of their presence.