"Ay! from St. Ignace! What distance lies between there and this Fort St. Louis, on the Illinois?" "'Twill be but a venture, Monsieur, but I think 'tis held at a hundred and fifty leagues." "Of wilderness?" "When I passed that way--yes; they tell me now the Jesuits have mission station at Green Bay, and there may be fur traders in Indian villages beyond." "No chance to procure supplies?" "Only scant rations of corn from the Indians." "Your report is in accordance with my instructions and maps, and no doubt is correct. That will be all. Take two more men in your boat, and depart at once. We shall follow immediately." As De Artigny turned away in obedience to these orders, his glance met mine, and seemed to question. Eager as I was to acquaint him with the true reason of my presence it was impossible. To have exhibited the slightest interest would only increase the enmity between the two men, and serve no good purpose. I did not even venture to gaze after him as he disappeared down the bank, feeling assured that Cassion's eyes were suspiciously watching me. My appearance of indifference must have been well assumed, for there was a sound of confidence in his voice as he bade us return to the canoes, and I even permitted him to assist me to my feet, and aid me in the descent to the shore. CHAPTER VIII I DEFY CASSION Our progress was slow against the swift current of the St. Lawrence, and we kept close to the overhanging bank, following the guidance of the leading canoe. We were the second in line, and no longer over-crowded, so that I had ample room to rest at ease upon a pile of blankets, and gaze about me with interest on the changing scene. Cassion, encouraged possibly by my permitting his attendance down the bank, found seat near me, and endeavored to converse; but, although I tried to prove cordial, realizing now that to anger the man would only add to my perplexity, his inane remarks tried me so that I ceased reply, and we finally lapsed into silence. Chevet, who held the steering oar, asked him some questions, which led to a brisk argument, and I turned away my head, glad enough to escape, and be permitted the luxury of my own thoughts. How beautifully desolate it all was; with what fresh delight each new vista revealed itself. The wild life, the love of wilderness and solitude, was in my blood, and my nature responded to the charm of our surroundings. I was the daughter of one ever attracted by the frontier, and all my life had been passed amid primitive conditions--the wide out-of-doors was my home, and the lonely places called me. The broad, rapid sweep of the river up which we won our slow passage, the great beetling cliffs dark in shadows, and crowned by trees, the jutting rocks whitened by spray, the headlands cutting off all view ahead, then suddenly receding to permit of our circling on into the unknown--here extended a panorama of which I could never tire.