yet the wild
river, the great gulf, the magnificent forests give one a sense of
grandeur, yet loneliness. And my husband says it is the same hundreds of
miles to the westward; that there are lakes like oceans in themselves.
And such furs! All Paris is wild with the beauty of them. Yet they lie
around here as if of no value."

"You would find that the traders appraise them pretty well," and he
raised his brows a trifle, while a rather amused expression played about
his eyes.

"Is there always such a turmoil of trade?"

"Oh, no. The traders scatter before mid-autumn. The cold weather sets in
and the snow and ice are our companions. The small streams freeze up.
But the Sieur has written of all these things in his book."

He looked inquiringly at her for a touch of enthusiasm, but her sweet
face was placid.

"Monsieur my husband desired that I should be educated in his religion
in the convent. We do not take up worldly matters, that is not
considered becoming to girls and women. We think more of the souls that
may be saved from perdition. The men go ahead to discover, the priests
come to teach these ignorant savages that they have souls that must be
returned to God, or suffer eternally."

There spoke the devotee. Destournier wondered a little how the Sieur had
come to choose a devote for a wife. For he was a born explorer, with a
body and a will of such strength that present defeat only spurred him
on. But where was there a woman to match him, to add to his courage and
resolve! Perhaps men did not need such women. Destournier was not an
enthusiast in religious matters. He had been here long enough to
understand the hold their almost childish superstitions had on the
Indians, their dull and brutish lack of any high motive, their brutal
and barbarous customs. They were ready to be baptized a dozen times over
just as they would use any of their own charms, or for the gain of some
trifle.

Madame seemed to study the frank face of the little girl. How beautiful
her eyes were; her eager, intelligent, spirited face; the fine skin that
was neither light nor dark, and withstood sun and wind alike, and lost
none of its attractive tints. But she was so different from the little
girls sent to the nuns for training. They never looked up at you with
these wide-open eyes that seemed to question you, to weigh you.

"There is no convent here where you can be taught?" addressing herself
to the child.

"The fathers are building o