I glanced at him and smiled as my heart glowed to her gentle sarcasm, for surely never did a more incongruous figure take saddle on a western trail. By what code of fashion he may have dressed, I know not; but from his slender-pointed bronze shoes to his beribboned hat he was still the dandy of the boulevards, his dark mustaches curled upward till their tips nearly touched his ears, and a delicately carved riding-whip swinging idly at his wrist. He seemed to have already exhausted his powers of conversation, for he remained oblivious of our presence, fumbling with one yellow-gloved hand in the recesses of a saddle-bag. "By Saint Denis, Sam!" he exclaimed, angrily, to his black satellite, "I can find nothing of the powder-puff, or the bag of essence! _Parbleu_! if they have been left behind you will go back after them, though every Indian in this Illinois country stand between. Come, you imp of darkness, know you aught of these?" "Dey am wid de pack-hoss, Massa de Croix," was the oily answer. "I done s'posed you would n't need 'em till we got thar." "Need them! Little you know the requirements of a gentleman! Saint Guise! Why, I shall want them both this very day! Ride you forward there, and see if they cannot be picked out from among the other things." "See, Monsieur!" cried Mademoiselle suddenly, one hand pressing my arm, while she pointed eagerly with the other, "there goes the boat with Mistress Kinzie and her children! That must be Josette in the bow, with the gay streamer about her hat. She did wish so to ride with us, but Mr. Kinzie would not permit it." The boat had but just cleared the river mouth, and was working off-shore, with half a dozen Indians laboring at the oars. "Yet Josette has by far the easiest passage, as we shall learn before night," said I, watching their progress curiously. "I imagine you will soon be wishing you were with them." "Never, Master Wayland!" she cried, with a little shudder, and quick uplifting of hands to her face as if to shut out the sight. "Memory of the hours when I was last on the lake is still too vivid. I have grown to dread the water as if it were an evil spirit. See! the column resumes its march, and the savages are moving beside us as might a guard of honor." It was as she had said. The long, hard journey had begun; and slowly, like some great snake torpid with a winter's sleep, the crawling column drew forward. We at the rear rode down the incline and out upon the level plain, every step an unconscious advance toward battle and death. CHAPTER XXV IM THE JAWS OF THE TIGER