For our present comfort there was not one thing lacking, the good Indian woman nursing us as if we were her own children, so that in a little while we were well and strong as before. As soon as my father had rested, he set out in search of our companions, not returning till the evening of the following day. Of those he sought, however, there was no trace. All were lost, and with them the heaped-up wealth they had in charge. Comforting my mother and refreshing himself, he started again, but without result, save to recover the bodies of some of our companions as they came to the surface far down the river. Of the treasure there was no sign; the great rapids had sucked it down and so tossed and dispersed it about that no trace of it could be discovered. After many days’ fruitless effort in this way my father gave up the search; and now determining to return home, my little pony was brought to the door for my mother to mount. Then as we were about to take our departure, looking on our benefactress, we all with one accord burst into tears at the remembrance of her kindness and the unhappy fate of our late companions. At this the good La Reine, putting her arms about my neck, kissed me, calling me her son, adding some words in her own tongue that I did not understand. Then turning, she embraced and kissed my mother, tears trickling down her sad face as she did so. Of money or other valuables we had none to leave in remembrance of her kindness, until my mother, bethinking her, loosened a great chain from about her throat—my father’s gift—and reaching down, clasped it about the neck of our benefactress. "We shall never forget you, dear mother," she said, tears running down her face; "you have been our good angel, and may God bless you for your love and kindness to us." "The Great Spirit is good, and will keep all his children," La Reine answered, sadly and in farewell. Thus we took our departure, my father supporting my mother on one side and I clasping the stirrup on the other. Looking back as we turned to ascend the stream, we saw La Reine as we had left her before the little hut, her eyes fixed on ours, a melancholy picture of gentleness and lonely abandonment.