In another minute they were paddling away, Manita dexterously steering the canoe. Having got so far from the village that their voices could not be heard, Oliver inquired the object of the expedition. "You wish to gain news of a white man who has been long in this country?" answered Manita; "when I heard what you said, I recollected that two moons ago I had gone on an expedition up this river with two other girls somewhat older than myself. They took me with them to steer while they paddled. Their object was to run away from those they did not love, and to hide in the forest till they could return with safety. The river, though not very wide, continues on far, far away; and we paddled on all day; and not till night did we come to the end of our voyage. They secured the canoe beneath an overhanging tree, whose boughs afforded us shelter while we slept. At daylight, leaping out of the canoe, with their basket of provisions, and telling me to take it back, but not to say where they had gone, they ran off into the forest. This I had no fancy for doing--not that I should have been punished--but I liked not to be deceived, and wished to know what they were about. I accordingly, instead of doing as they had bid me, followed their trail; though I kept at such a distance that they could not hear or see me should they look back. On they went, till I began to grow weary and hungry; they stopped to eat, but I had forgotten to bring provisions with me, not supposing that they would go so far. I lay concealed close to them, till I heard them get up and go on again; then I knew that they must be intending to go much further. Fortunately they had left some fruit and a piece of corn-cake, which had slipped out of one of their baskets. I ate it as I went along, afraid of getting far behind them.