nearest canoe and ordered to take a paddle. He looked back and
saw four warriors lift Menard, still bound hand and foot, and
carry him to the other canoe, laying him in the bottom beneath the
bracing-strips. Father Claude, too, was given a paddle. Then they
glided away over the still water, into a mysterious channel that
wound from one shadow-bound stretch to another, past islands that
developed faintly from the blackness ahead and faded into the
blackness behind. The lean arms of the Indians swung with a
tireless rhythm, and their paddles slipped to and fro in the water
with never a sound, save now and then a low splash.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE MAID MAKES NEW FRIENDS.

The prisoners were allowed some freedom in the Onondaga village. They
were not bound, and they could wander about within call of the low hut
which had been assigned to them. This laxity misled Danton into
supposing that escape was practicable.

"See," he said to Menard, "no one is watching. Once the dark has come
we can slip away, all of us."

Menard shook his head.

"Do you see the two warriors sitting by the hut yonder,--and the group
playing platter among the trees behind us? Did you suppose they were
idling?"

"They seem to sleep often."

"You could not do it. We shall hope to get away safely; but it will
not be like that."

Danton was not convinced. He said nothing further, but late on that
first night he made the attempt alone. The others were asleep, and
suspected nothing until the morning. Then Father Claude, who came and
went freely among the Indians, brought word that he had been caught a
league to the north. The Indians bound him, and tied him to stakes in
a strongly guarded hut. This much the priest learned from Tegakwita,
the warrior who had guarded them on the night of their capture. After
Menard's appeal to his gratitude he had shown a willingness to be
friendly, and, though he dared do little openly, he had given the
captives many a comfort on the hard journey southward.

Later in the morning Menard and Mademoiselle St. Denis were sitting at
the door of their hut. The irregular street was quiet, excepting for
here and there a group of naked children playing, or a squaw passing
with a load of firewood on her back. An Indian girl came in from the
woods toward them. She was of light, strong figure, with a full face
and long hair, which was held back from her face by bright ribbons.
Her dress showed more than one sign of Mi