They surged along chanting their unearthly song, and the mass of them
swept by where lay the two men.
Not a glance was given them, no taunts, no jeers with which the tribes
of the North-west were wont to torment their captives.
The swish of the moccasined feet was as the sound of many waters.
"No time for play," thought McElroy; "that will come later,--when we
have reached the Pays d'en Haut."
For he knew now that he and De Courtenay were to be taken along.
The body of Negansahima was placed in the first canoe, covered with a
priceless robe of six silver foxskins laced together; the six big
warriors, their halfnaked bodies painted black, manned the paddles, and
at the prow there stood the sad figure of Edmonton Ridgar.
At one side had drawn out old Quamenoka and his Assiniboines, their way
lying to the west. They raised a chant as the first canoe circled out
and headed down the stream. Behind it fell in five canoe-loads of Bois-
Brules, their attachment a mystery, and the river became alive with the
great flotilla.
Not until the death-boat had passed the far bend did the pacing Indian
give way to a dozen naked giants, who lifted the captives with ceremony
and carried them down the slope.
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