“No,” replied the Indian. “We have been sent with a paper from the Superior at Sault St. Francis Xavier to the good fathers at Three Rivers. Now we are on our return to the Mission.” 66
“Have my brothers eaten?” Menard motioned toward the fire. “It is still early in the day.”
The three bowed. “We are travelling fast,” said the spokesman, “for the Superior awaits our return. We ate before the light. It will soon be time for us to go on our journey.”
Menard saw Father Claude and Danton approaching, and waited for them. The face of the large Indian seemed like some other face that had had a place in his memory. It was not unlikely that he had known this warrior during his captivity, when half a thousand braves had been to him as brothers. The Indian was apparently of middle age, and had lines of dignity and authority in his face that made it hard to accept him as a subdued resident at the Mission. But Menard knew that no sign of doubt or suspicion must appear in his face, so he waited for the priest. The Indians sat with their knees drawn up and their blankets wrapped about them, looking stolidly at the fire.
Father Claude came quietly into the group, and with a smile extended his hand to the smallest of the three, an older man, with a wrinkled face. “I did not look for you here, 67 Teganouan. Have you gone back to the Mission?”
Teganouan returned the smile, and bowed.
“My brother has told the white man of our errand?”
“Yes,” said Menard, “they have been sent to Three Rivers by the Superior, and are now returning. I have told them that we, too, are going to Montreal.”
The priest took the hint. “We shall meet you and your brothers again, Teganouan. They are newcomers at the Mission, I believe. They had not come when I left.”
“No, Father. They have but last week become Christians. The Long Arrow” (inclining his head toward the large Indian) “has lost a son, and through his suffering was led to take the faith.”