"And you?"
"Of Louisiana birth and English blood; five years I have been a hunter in the Illinois country."
He groaned as though the mention of the word awoke unpleasant memories.
"'Tis an unholy land, no fit abiding place for the elect, as I learned, having passed through its settlements seeking prayerfully to bear an evangel unto that stiff-necked people. Friend, thou hast an honest face, and I will say in confidence I have been ofttimes blessed of the Spirit in the conversion of souls; yet this people laughed at my unctuous speech, making merry regarding that head-covering with which the Almighty chose to adorn his servant. Dost thou know the French settlement on the Kaskaskia?"
"I have been there often."
"Ah! 'tis verily a stronghold of popish superstition. Recall you the humble cabin of Gabriel La Motte, the Huguenot, close by the ravine? It was there I abode in much spiritual and temporal comfort with that godly man, until certain mad roisterers took offence at plain gospel speech, driving me forth into the wilderness, even as Jehovah's prophets of old. Since that hour I have been a wanderer on the face of the earth, finding small comfort in this life; yet Ezekiel Cairnes is merely the poor servant of the Lord, the chief of sinners, and must abide in travail until He cometh."
He cast up his eyes in pious affectation, his lips moving as though he meditated in prayer.
"Then your name is Cairnes?"
"Ezekiel Cairnes, late of the Connecticut colony, and am permitted by the Lord's mercy to write Reverend before my unworthy appellation."
"A Puritan preacher!" I exclaimed in some disgust. "I have heard of your sort before, yet have been spared a meeting until now. Where do you propose going?"