was well disposed toward them. She often brought gifts of baskets, or of bright feathers or fine moccasins for Faith.

“I hope she will come before I go to Aunt Prissy’s,” said Faith. “I like Kashaqua.”

“Kashaqua likes little girl.”

Even Mr. Carew jumped at these words and the sudden appearance of the Indian woman standing just inside the kitchen door. She seemed pleased by their warm welcome, and sat down before the fire, while Faith hastened to bring her a good share of their simple dinner. Faith sat down on the floor beside her, greatly to Kashaqua’s satisfaction, and told her about Esther Eldridge’s visit, about the bear coming into the kitchen, and of how she had jumped from the window and run to the mill to tell her father. Kashaqua grunted her approval now and then.

“And what do you think, Kashaqua! I am to go to my Aunt Priscilla Scott, to Ticonderoga, and stay all winter,” she concluded.

“Ticonderoga? When?” questioned Kashaqua, dipping a piece of corn bread in the dish of maple syrup.

“I am to go just as soon as some one goes over the trail who will take me,” answered Faith.

“I take you. I go to Ticonderoga to-morrow. I take you,” said Kashaqua.