!" she called hopelessly. "What shall I do? What
shall I do?"

There was a rustle of leaves close behind her and the Indian woman
darted into the clearing. Without a word to Faith she ran straight to
where the bear was crouched over the basket. Faith could hardly
believe what she saw, for Kashaqua had seized the basket and pushed it
out of the bear's reach, and was now belaboring him with a stout piece
of wood that she had seized from the pile by the shelter. As she hit
the bear she called out strange words in the Indian tongue, whose
meaning Faith could not imagine, but which the bear seemed to
understand. The creature accepted the blows with a queer little
whimper which made Faith laugh in spite of her fear. And when Kashaqua
had quite finished with him he crept along beside her, looking up as
if pleading for forgiveness.

"Oh, Kashaqua! Is it the bear that your papooses tamed?" exclaimed
Faith, remembering the story told her on the way.

Kashaqua nodded, at the same time muttering words of reproach to the
bear.

"He like bad Indian, steal from friends," she explained to Faith. "His
name Nooski," she added.

Nooski was quite ready to make friends with Faith, but she was not
yet sure of his good-nature. It seemed to the little girl that the
bear understood every word Kashaqua uttered; and when they went on
their way down the trail Nooski followed, or kept close beside them.

It was still early in the afternoon when they reached level ground and
Faith had her first glimpse of the blue waters of Lake Champlain and
saw the heights of Ticonderoga on the opposite shore. For a moment she
forgot Nooski and Kashaqua, and stood looking at the sparkling waters
and listening to the same sound of "Chiming Waters" that had made the
early French settlers call the place "Carillon." She wondered if she
should ever see the inside of the fort of which she had heard so much,
and then heard Kashaqua calling her name.

"Canoe all ready, Faith." The Indian woman had drawn the birch-bark
canoe from its hiding-place in the underbrush, and the light craft now
rested on the waters of the lake. The baskets and bundles were in the
canoe, and Kashaqua, paddle in hand, stood waiting for her little
companion.

"Where's Nooski?" asked Faith, looking about for the young bear.

Kashaqua pointed toward the distant range of mountains which they had
left behind them. "He gone home," she said.

Kashaqua told her how to step into the canoe, and