value.

We departed at dawn, and the sun was scarce an hour high when the
prows of our canoes turned into the Ottawa. Now we were indeed in the
wilderness, fronting the vast unknown country of the West, with every
league of travel leaving behind all trace of civilization. There was
nothing before us save a few scattered missions, presided over by
ragged priests, and an occasional fur trader's station, the
headquarters of wandering _couriers du bois_. On every side were the
vast prairies, and stormy lakes, roamed over by savage men and beasts
through whom we must make our way in hardship, danger, and toil.

Cassion spread out his rude map in the bottom of the canoe, and I had
him point out the route we were to follow. It was a long, weary way he
indicated, and, for the moment, my heart almost failed me, as we
traced together the distance outlined, and pictured in imagination the
many obstacles between us and our goal. Had I known the truth, all
those leagues were destined to disclose of hardship and peril, I doubt
my courage to have fronted them. But I did not know, nor could I
perceive a way of escape. So I crushed back the tears dimming my eyes,
smiled into his face, as he rolled up the map, and pretended to care
not at all.

When night came we were in the black woods, the silence about us
almost unearthly, broken only by the dash of water over the rocks
below where we were camped, promising a difficult portage on the
morrow. Alone, oppressed by the silence, feeling my helplessness as
perhaps I never had before, and the dread loneliness of the vast
wilderness in which I lay, I tossed on my bed for hours, ere sheer
exhaustion conquered, and I slept.

CHAPTER XI

I GAIN SPEECH WITH DE ARTIGNY

Our progress up the Ottawa was so slow, so toilsome, the days such a
routine of labor and hardship, the scenes along the shore so similar,
that I lost all conception of time. Except for the Jesuit I had
scarcely a companion, and there were days, I am sure, when we did not
so much as exchange a word.

The men had no rest from labor, even Cassion changing from boat to
boat as necessity arose, urging them to renewed efforts. The water was
low, the rapids more than usually dangerous, so that we were compelled
to portage more often than usual. Once the leading canoe ventured to
shoot a rapid not considered perilous, and had a great hole torn in
its prow by a sharp rock. The men got ashore, saving the wreck, but
lost t