"Well, friend," said I, as we drew up in shoal water under lee of the rock, and I noted his short legs and stocky chest, "no doubt you are well water-logged, and a little healthful exercise will help to warm your blood, especially as we dare not light a fire for such purpose. So bend that broad back of yours, and aid us in lifting the boat to cover."
He performed his portion of the work well, bearing with apparent ease fully one-half the burden, while De Noyan and I staggered beneath the remainder, until together we sank the boat well out of sight behind the thick brush.
"And why not a fire?" the stranger questioned abruptly, noticing Eloise spreading forth our stock of provisions on the grass. "It was in hope of thus warming the inner man that I consented to come ashore and companion with you. Are you refugees, fleeing from danger?"
I glanced aside at De Noyan and muttered hastily in French, "It will be best to tell him our story--'tis not likely he will prove an emissary of Spain."
"As you please; he is more of your class than mine," he returned indifferently, and, with a shrug of the shoulders, strolled away.
"You have made fairly correct guess," I said to our new acquaintance; "so we may as well understand each other first as last. We have escaped with our lives from New Orleans, and are now seeking refuge on the Ohio."
He nodded, his shrewd gray eyes fastened intently on my face, his own countenance expressionless.
"Who holdeth New Orleans?" he asked in a tone of interest.
"The Spanish, under O'Reilly."
"'Tis what they told me above, yet I believed they lied. Those with you are French?"
"Ay."
"And you?"
"Of Louisiana birth and English blood; five years I have been a hunter in the Illinois country."
He groaned as though the mention of the word awoke unpleasant memories.
"'Tis an unholy land, no fit abiding place for the elect, as I learned, having passed through its settlements seeking prayerfully to bear an evangel unto that stiff-necked people. Friend, thou hast an honest face, and I will say in confidence I have been ofttimes blessed of the Spirit in the conversion of souls; yet this people laughed at my unctuous speech, making merry regarding that head-covering with which the Almighty chose to adorn his servant. Dost thou know the French settlement on the Kaskaskia?"
"I have been there often."
"Ah! 'tis verily a stronghold of popish superstition. Recall you the humble cabin of Gabriel La Motte, the Huguenot, close by the ravine? It was there I abode in much spiritual and temporal comfort with that godly man, until certain mad roisterers took offence at plain gospel speech, driving me forth into the wilderness, even as Jehovah's prophets of old. Since that hour I have been a wanderer on the face of the earth, finding small comfort in this life; yet Ezekiel Cairnes is merely the poor servant of the Lord, the chief of sinners, and must abide in travail until He cometh."