This accident to Altudah led to the transferring of the injured Indian to our canoe, and caused Cassion to join De Artigny in advance. This change relieved me of the constant presence of the Commissaire, who wearied me with his ceaseless efforts to entertain, but rendered more difficult than ever my desire to speak privately with the younger man. The _père_ evidently had commands to keep me ever in view, for he clung to me like a shadow, and scarcely for a moment did I feel myself alone, or unwatched. It was five days later, and in the heart of all that was desolate and drear, when this long sought opportunity came in most unexpected fashion. We had made camp early, because of rough water ahead, the passage of which it was not deemed best to attempt without careful exploration. So, while the three heavily laden canoes drew up against the bank, and prepared to spend the night, the leading canoe was stripped, and sent forward, manned only with the most expert of the Indian paddlers to make sure the perils of the current. From the low bank to which I had climbed I watched the preparations for the dash through those madly churning waters above. Cassion was issuing his orders loudly, but exhibited no inclination to accompany the party, and suddenly the frail craft shot out from the shore, with De Artigny at the steering paddle, and every Indian braced for his task, and headed boldly into the smother. They vanished as though swallowed by the mist, Cassion, and a half dozen soldiers racing along the shore line in an effort to keep abreast of the laboring craft. It was a wild, desolate spot in which we were, a mere rift in the bluffs, which seemed to overhang us, covered with a heavy growth of forest. The sun was still an hour high, although it was twilight already beside the river, when Cassion, and his men came straggling back, to report that the canoe had made safe passage, and, taking advantage of his good humor, I proposed a climb up an opening of the bluff, down which led a deer trail plainly discernible. "Not I," he said, casting a glance upward. "The run over the rocks will do me for exercise tonight." "Then will I assay it alone," I replied, not displeased at his refusal. "I am cramped from sitting in the canoe so long." "'Twill be a hard climb, and they tell me the _père_ has strained a tendon of his leg coming ashore." "And what of that!" I burst forth, giving vent to my indignation. "Am I a ten-year-old to be guarded every step I take? 'Tis not far to the summit, and no danger. You can see yourself the trail is not steep. Faith! I will go now, just to show that I am at liberty."