- juns they're meetin'. I see some on horseback. Hooray!
Heave, lads, on the lines."
For Sa-ca-ja-we-a had run ahead of the captain—she was dancing—back she ran to him, and danced about him, her fingers in her mouth. Little Toussaint bobbed in his net.
"She suck her finger," proclaimed old Cruzatte. "Dat mean she see her own peoples! Now she point. Dere dey come, on de hoss. Hooray!"
"Chaboneau swings his cap! The captain makes the peace sign!"
"Frinds, lads!" croaked Pat. "Heave, now; heave on the lines, or they'll get away from yez!"
How the men tugged, even Peter laying his weight sturdily to the rope. Yonder, ahead to the left, inside the curve (and a long, vexatious curve it was), half a dozen Indians were galloping for the captain's squad. They met Sa-ca-ja-we-a first, then Chaboneau, then the captain; all mingled together. The Indians were singing and prancing, and taking the captain up toward the forks. One jumped to earth and made the captain sit the horse. Hooray!
"There's a village beyant," gasped Patrick. "Heave, lads, or else we're dreamin."
"I see Drouillard dere, with dose Injuns," asserted Labiche, whose eyes were keen. "He dress jes' like Injun. I guess he trade clothes."
"Heave, lads!"
The Indian camp grew plainer, as the boats rounded
