The state herald., 1916-11-24


q anger into the youngsr mans faeA
although he merely turned on his heel
without reply.
We remained At st. Ignace three
days, busily engaged In repairing our
canoes and rendering them nt for the
long voyage yet before us. From this
point We were to venture on treacher-
Gus waters. a. yet scarcely explored,
the shores inhabited BY savage. un-
known tribes, with not q white man
In al the long distance from Green
Bay to the Chicago portage. Once I
got out the map and traced the dis
tance, feeling sick at heart a. thus
realized more clearly the weary jour
ney.
Those were dull, lonely days I
passed In the desolate mission house,
while the others were busy at their
various tasks. Only at night time, or
as they struggled In to their meals, did
I see anyone but Pere Allouez, who
was always close at hand. silent
shadow from whose presence I could
not escape. visited the priests gar
den, climbed the rocks overlooking
the water and even ventured into the
dark forest, but he was ever beside
me- suave but insistent on doing his
masters will. The only glimpse l had
Of D'Artigny was at distance, for
not once did he approach the mission
house. So I was glad enough when
the canoes were ready, and all prep
aratlons made for departure.
Yet we were not destined to escape
thus easily from st. Ignace. OF what
occurred I must write as 1t happened
to me then, and not as its full signi-
flcance became later clear to my un-
derstandlns. 1t was after nightfall
when Cassion returned to the mission
house. The lights were burning on
the table, and the three priests were
rather impatiently waiting their even
ing meal. occasionally exchanging
brief sentences. or peering out through
the open window toward the dark
water.
Cassion came In alone, yet I OBJ
served nothing strange about his ap'
pearance, except that he failed to
greet me with the usual attempt al
gallantry, although his sharp eyes
swept our faces as he closed the door;
and stared about the room.
"What! not eaten yetw he ex-
claimed. II anticipated my fate to
be a lonely meal, for the rascala
worked like snails, and l would moi
leave them rest until all was finished
Faith. the odor is appetizing, and I am
hungry as q bear"
The younger priest waved his hand
to the servant yet asked softly:
"Monsieur Chevet is delayed
also?"
He will sup with his men tonight, v
returned Cassion shortly, seating him
self on the bench. "T'he sergeant
keeps guard Of the canoes, and Cheve,
will be useful with those OF duty"
The man ate as though nearly fam
ished, his ready tongue unusually nj
lent. and at the conclusion Of the meal
appeared 10 fatigued that made early
excuse to withdraw 30 he might resi-
in comfort, climbing the ladder in one
corner to my own bed beneath the
caves. This apartment, whose only
advantage was privacy. was no more
than q narrow space between the slop
ing rafters Of the roof, unfurnished
but with q small window In the end
closed by q wooden shutter. A parti
ton OF axe-hewn planks divided this
attic Into two compartments. thus com
posing the priests sleeping chambers
While I was there they both occupied
the one to the south. Cassion, Chcve,
and Pere Allouez resting in the NAH
room below.
Az lowered the trap In the floor
shutting out the murmur OF voices.
was conscious Of no desire to sleep
my mind buslly occupied with posi-
bilities Of the morrow. opened the
window and seated myself on the
door gazing out at the night. Below
extended the priests garden. and be
yond the dark gloom Of forest depths
The way Of egress was easy-a mere
step to the nat roof Of the kitchen
the dovetailcd logs Of which afforded