CHAPTER XV. OUTGENERALED.
CHAPTER XI.
IN THE VILLAGES OF THE CREES.What happened after that was of little interest to me. I have brief, fitful memories of things that occurred at intervals, for as I later learned from Ruth, my hurts were very sore indeed, and more than once they had given me up for dead. But for The Keeper and for Radisson himself, who searched through the woods for healing simples and herbs at each camping-place, I had been in sorry plight.
I mind me of many days of travel, during no small part of which I was lashed tightly enough to the canoe. At times Ruth's face would be above me, her fingers sweeping my brow, and at times Radisson's kindly white beard would bend over me and his fingers, for all their sinewy strength, were as tender as those of Ruth.
That was a do
