e
a cautious eye to note the progress of the threatening storm.

"_Tous les amants
Changent des maitresses.
Jamais le bon vin n'endort--
L'amour me reveille_!"

"The best is before us now, Monsieur L'as," said Du Mesne, joining Law,
at length. "Assuredly the best is always that which is ahead and which
is unknown; but in point of fact the hardest of our journey is over,
for henceforth we may stretch our legs ashore, and hunt and fish, and
make good camps for madame, who, as we both perceive, is much in need of
ease and care. We shall make all safe and comfortable for this night,
doubt not.

"Meantime," continued he, "let us see that all is well with our men and
arms, for henceforth we must put out guards. Attention, comrades!
Present your pieces and answer the roll-call! Pierre Berthier!"

"_Ici_! Monsieur," replied the one better known as Pierre Noir, a tall
and dark-visaged Canadian, clad in the common costume, half-Indian and
half-civilized, which marked his class. A shirt of soft dressed buckskin
fell about his thighs; his legs were encased in moose-skin leggings,
deeply fringed at the seams. About his middle was a broad sash, once
red, and upon his head a scanty cap of similar color was pushed back. At
his belt hung the great hunting knife of the _voyageur_, balanced by a
keen steel tomahawk such as was in common use among the Indians. In his
hand he supported a long-barreled musket, which he now examined
carefully in the presence of the captain of the _voyageurs_.

"Robert Challon!" next commanded Du Mesne, and in turn the one addressed
looked over his piece, the captain also scrutinizing the flint and
priming with careful eye.

"Naturally, _mes enfants_," said he, "your weapons are perfect, as ever.
Kataikini, and you, Kabayan, my brothers, let me see," said he to the
two Indians, the former a Huron and the latter an Ojibway, both from the
shores of Superior. The Indians arose silently, and without protest
submitted to the scrutiny which ever seemed to them unnecessary.

"Jean Breboeuf!" called Du Mesne; and in response there arose from the
shadows a wiry little Frenchman, who might have been of any age from
twenty to forty-five, so sun-burnt and wrinkled, yet so active and
vigorous did he seem.

"_Mon ami_," said Du Mesne to him, chidingly, "see now, here is your
flint all but out of its engagement. Pray you, have better care of your
piece. For this you shall stand the long watch