But these things were that life of the great North-west whose unspeakable lure thralled men's souls to the death, and he was content.
It was chance and daring and danger which drew him in the beginning to the country, love of the wild and breath of the vast reaches, something within which pushed him forward among these savage peoples, even as the same thing pushed Maren Le Moyne toward the Whispering Hills, sent De Courtenay to the Saskatchewan.
At any rate he was very hungry, and when a bent and withered crone of a squaw brought food and loosed his right hand, the young factor tossed up his head to get the falling hair out of his eyes and fell to with a relish.
“Faugh!” said De Courtenay with the first mouthful; “I wonder, M'sieu, is there nothing we can do to hasten the end? Many meals of this would equal the stake.”
Whereat the gallant smilingly tossed the meat and its birchbark platter at the woman's feet.
“If you would not prefer starvation, I would suggest that you crawl for that, M'sieu,” said McElroy gravely; but the wrinkled hag gathered it up, and left them to the night that was fast settling over the forest.
Thus began the long trail up to the waters of Churchill and beyond into that unknown region where few white men had yet penetrated, and fewer still returned.
CHAPTER XVI TRAVEL
Day followed day. Summer was upon the land, early summer, with the sweet winds stirring upon the waters, with gauze-winged creatures flitting above the shallows where willow and vine-maple fringed the edges and silver fish leaped to their undoing, with fleecy clouds floating in a sapphire sky, and birds straining their little throats in the forest.