"Twenty-four men against five hundred!" the chief replied. "First they will cut a breach in the stockade; then they will go in and burn down the Fort. Big Bear has asked the Inspector to surrender, but he has refused."

"What is to be done, good chief? I have in there a white friend who saved my life; and I would like also to help the Inspector and his followers."

The chief mused.

"My braves follow, and will be here before the first blow is struck.

Perhaps I shall be able, at the last moment, to meet the wishes of Mademoiselle." Julie took two or three dainty steps, and nestled her head in the breast of her lover. Again he stroked her hair, kissed her bright face, and murmured sweet words in her little ear. Then he said,

"I must go among the lodges, for if I am not present to join in the counsels of the leaders, I may be suspected. Wait, Mademoiselle, in the shelter of the bank till I come to you." There was then a little sound like the explosion of a bubble, and Annette saw the chief raise his head from Julie's face.

"You little rogue," she said, "how your love affairs profit by this war." Then she tripped off to the point designated by the chief, and lay down in the shadow with Julie at her side. It was while they lay nestling here that the storm of yells described in another chapter burst out. Annette shuddered and grasped the hand of her companion.

Then came the onslaught of musketry, the glare of flambeaux, and the response from the besieged. Through the wailing of the storm came, too, the thud, thud, thud of the choppers at the stockade, and the straggling shots of the brave twenty-four in the Fort.

"The stockade cannot stand long," Annette whispered; "I wonder what delays your chief?" But while the words were yet quivering upon her lips, a figure moved swiftly towards them and whispered,

"Come." And when they joined him: "I only wish to have Mademoiselle satisfied of the escape of her deliverer and of his friends."

In a minute they were at the edge of the stockade; and, at a signal from the chief, a little postern opened, and they were admitted.

"Follow me," he said, as he advanced, waving a small white cloth, and the two, close at his heels, found themselves at the door of the Fort. "Friends are here," he whispered, through his tubed hand, to a policeman who had been watching the advancing trio from his sentry post; "let us enter."

The policeman retreated, and in a moment reappeared with the Inspector and Captain Stephens at his side.

"Who are you?" asked the Inspector in a low voice.

"Friends." Then Annette said, in a distinct voice:

"Monsieur Stephens may remember me?"

"The Indian boy who warned me of my danger!" he exclaimed, turning to the Inspector. "You may admit them." In a moment Tall Elk was inside.

"I am a Cree chief, and twenty of my braves are friendly. When the Indians break through the stockade I shall guard this door, and you can pa.s.s out. Go directly to the river, and at the pier you will find a boat waiting. Then the river is clear before you to Battleford."

Saying these words the chief was gone, the two Indian boys following him.

At this moment a chorus of yelling, more infernal than any which had been heard before, arose, and, brandishing their weapons, the horde of infuriated savages began to pour through a large gap in the stockade.

"Follow me, my men," whispered the Inspector, and with Stephens at his side he descended into the yard where the smoke from burning torches was so dense that the whole party pa.s.sed through the group of friendly braves without attracting the attention of the hostile savages. They very speedily gained the river and found a large York boat, of shallow draught, which they pushed out into the slow sweep of tide. The chief was nowhere to be seen; but the two mysterious and beautiful Indian boys hovered along the gloomy brink of the river, frequently turning apprehensive eyes towards the Fort. As the boat moved downward so did they, flitting along like a pair of guardian angels. Immediately beside them they perceived a fierce-looking Indian, glaring through the dark upon the water.

He had evidently just perceived the boat, for, uttering a loud alarm- yell, he turned and was making off toward the Fort to give the tidings.

"Stop," shouted Annette, in clear, thrilling Cree.

The savage stood a moment, and glared at this handsome lad of his tribe.

"If you move a step I shoot you. Drop to the ground."

The Indian stood irresolute, but the girl made a sudden bound forward and held the glittering barrel of her revolver in his face.

"You are a Cree?" he inquired, in a voice quivering with an odd mixture of fear and rage.

"I am."

"Why don't you let me alarm the braves? The police are escaping."

"The Cree boy will not give his reasons; but his brother must obey."

The Indian stood looking upon Annette as if endeavouring to scan her features; and as if to help him in his object, a flash of flame from a burning building in the Fort shone for a moment upon the boy, and showed the cowardly warrior a pair of large, soft eyes, fringed with long lashes; a sweet oval face, and a delicate little hand. The sudden observation seemed to fill him with contempt and courage, and turning he bounded away with another wild yell.

Annette did not lower her arm, but she shut one of her eyes and fired, once, twice at the running savage. Up went the wretch's arms and he fell upon the plain.

"Let us away Julie, the shots may bring some stragglers," and the two girls bounded along for nearly half a mile, when they were again in line with the barge.

"Boat ahoy," shouted Annette. "When you near the first island keep away to your right. There is a bar with sharp rocks in your way." A low musical,

"Merci mon pet.i.t ami" came to the sh.o.r.e; and Annette whispered:

"It is Monsieur Stephens who gives me thanks." Then straightening herself up, "It is time we got our horses; come." They hastened away to the little grove, folded the tent, saddled the horses, and in a few moments were galloping again towards the river. As they neared the bank they heard a tempest of yelling up the plain toward the Fort: and after listening for a moment, Annette said,

"The savages have discovered the flight, and they are now in pursuit. Can you speak much Cree, Julie?"

"Not much."

"Well, then you are to be my brother and a dummy; for I must meet the Indians."

"Mademoiselle must not put herself in danger. The Indians may know that you fired at the brave; perhaps he has given the alarm."

"Fear not, Julie. That poor savage has told no tales. But Monsieur Stephens must be saved, and if this band is not checked, both he and his friends are doomed. Half a mile below there are a hundred canoes upon the bank, and thither those screaming fiends are bound. Now, follow me, unless you care to ride back again to the hollow. I will impose no duty upon you except to remain dumb."

Then she struck her heels into her horse and rode full for the yelling band. As she drew near she raised her hand and shouted in perfect and musical Cree.

"Let the braves stand and hear their brother."

Big Bear who was leading, surrounded by two or three of his wives, stopped, and shouted to his braves to be still.

"What has our little brother to say?"

"Myself and my dumb brother have just escaped a great army of soldiers at Souris Creek."

The chief's eyes became blank with fright.

"Where were the white braves going?"

"Marching for Fort Pitt; and they will be here in fifteen minutes, for they are mounted on swift horses. If you go down to fight yonder boat, you will be attacked in rear."

"The boy speaks well," muttered the chief to his prettiest wife who was standing by his side; and that dainty Cree was feasting her eyes upon the beautiful face of the Indian lad. It might not have been so well for Annette had the chief seen the way in which his young wife stared at the little Indian scout.

"My braves will turn back," shouted Big Bear, "and when we get to the lodges we will hold a council. The little Cree brave and his dumb brother will come to o tents."