Canadaw on de snow." Gaspard marvelled at the ease with which he was playing the part.
It was interesting news for the officers of the Elbe, and, from their scowling faces and excited conversation, the Cree judged, highly disconcerting.
The council of war continued for some time; then the youngest of the group, a smooth-faced boy of twenty-four, turned to Laroque affably.
"You have a fine dog in your canoe. We will hoist him aboard with your stuff."
It was a polite way of informing the Cree that he was a prisoner; but it was a relief to hear that his shaggy comrade was not to be abandoned. For next to the wife and children at Albany Gaspard Laroque loved the great dog down there in the canoe worrying over the absence of his master as he loved nothing on earth.
"T'anks," said Laroque, gratefully. "I mak' heem good dog on ship."
The trapper followed the officer forward to where the canoe lay alongside. There was the husky, whimpering for the return of the man who had deserted him.
"Whish you, Loup!" the Cree called down, leaning over the rail.
The nose of the husky pointed upward in a yelp of delight at the sound of the beloved voice, his thick brush of a tail switching furiously to and fro in an ecstasy of welcome.
Calling some sailors, the lieutenant said to the Cree:
"Go below and make your dog fast to the tackle they
