“These Mission girls like to ape our ways,” said Menard, in French.
The girl looked curiously at them, then she untied a fold of her skirt, and showed a heap of strawberries. “For the white man’s squaw,” she said.
Mademoiselle blushed and laughed. “Thank you,” she replied, holding out her hands. The girl gave her the berries, and turned away. Menard looked up as a thought came to him.
“Wait, Mary. Do you know where the young white chief is?”
“Yes. He tried to run away. He cannot run away from our warriors.”
“Are you afraid to go to him?”
“My brother, Tegakwita, is guarding him. I am not afraid.”
Menard went to a young birch tree that stood 150 near the hut, peeled off a strip of bark, and wrote on it:––
“If you try to escape again you will endanger my plans. Keep your patience, and I can save you.”
“Will you take him some berries, and give him this charm with them?”