"Ay, and that is all; the lads will waste no ammunition in the gloom, except to tell the savages they are awake and ready."

"How far have we traveled, Monsieur?"

"A mile, perhaps. At the crooked oak yonder we leave the stream. You met with no harm when you fell?"

"No more than a bruise. I can go on now."

We turned to the right, and plunged into the thicket, the way now so black that I grasped his jacket in fear of becoming lost. We were clambering up a slight hill, careless of everything but our footing, when there was a sudden rustling of the low branches on either side our path. De Artigny stopped, thrusting me back, while at that very instant, indistinct forms seemed to leap forth from the covert. It occurred so quickly, so silently, that before I even realized danger, he was struggling madly with the assailants. I heard the crash of blows, an oath of surprise, a guttural exclamation, a groan of pain.

Hands gripped me savagely; I felt naked bodies, struggled wildly to escape, but was flung helplessly to the ground, a hand grasping my hair. I could see nothing only a confused mass of legs and arms, but De Artigny was still on his feet, struggling desperately. From some hand he had grabbed a rifle, and swung it crashing into the faces of those grappling him. Back he came step by step, fighting like a fiend, until he stood over me. With one wide sweep of his clutched weapon he struck me free, a blow which shattered the gun stock, and left him armed only with the iron bar. But the battle fury was on him; dimly I could see him towering above me, bareheaded, his clothes torn to rags, the grim barrel poised for a blow.

"St. Ann!" he cried exultantly. "'Tis a good fight so far--would you have more of it?"

"Hold!" broke in a French voice from out the darkness. "What means this? Are you of white blood?"

"I have always supposed so."

"A renegade consorting with devils of the Iroquois?"

"_Mon Dieu!_ No! an officer of Fort St. Louis."

I could see the white man thrust aside the Indian circle, and strike through. His face was invisible, although I was upon my knees now, but he was a short, heavily built fellow.

"Stand back! ay, make room. Saint Guise, we are fighting our own friends. If you are of the garrison name yourself."

De Artigny, still clasping his rifle barrel, reached out his other hand, and lifted me to my feet.

"Perchance," he said coolly, "if I were a stickler for etiquette, I might ask you first for some explanation of this attack. However, we have made some heads ring, so I waive that privilege. I am the Sieur de Artigny, a lieutenant of La Salle's."

"_Mon Dieu!_" the other stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "'Tis no unknown name to me, although we have never before met by some chance--I am Francois de la Forest."

"La Forest! You were in France three months ago."

"Aye; I was there when Sieur de la Salle landed. He told me the whole tale. I was with him when he had audience with Louis. I am here now bearing the orders of the King, countersigned by La Barre at Quebec, restoring De Tonty to command at Fort St. Louis, and bidding De Baugis and that fool Cassion return to New France."

De Artigny crushed the man's hand in both his own, dropping the rifle barrel to the ground. His voice trembled as he made answer.

"He won the King's favor? he convinced Louis?"

"No doubt of that--never saw I a greater miracle."

"And the Sieur de la Salle--has he returned?"

"Nay; he remains in France, to fit out an expedition to sail for the mouth of the Great River. He hath special commission from the King. To me was given the honor of bearing his message. Ah! but La Barre raved like a mad bull when I handed him the King's order. I thought he would burst a blood vessel, and give us a new governor. But no such luck.

Pah! I stood there, struggling to keep a straight face, for he had no choice but obey. 'Twas a hard dose to swallow, but there was Louis'

orders in his own hand, all duly sealed; and a command that I be dispatched hither with the message."

"How made you the journey in so short a time?"

"Overland from Detroit, the same trail you traveled with La Salle; 'tis much the shorter."

"Alone?"

"With two _courier de bois_; they are with me now. But what is this De Artigny you have with you--a woman?"

CHAPTER XXXIII

WARRIORS OF THE ILLINI

"Yes, M. de la Forest," I said, stepping forward to save Rene from a question which would embarrass him. "I am the daughter of Captain la Chesnayne, whom the Sieur de Artigny hath taken under his protection."

"La Chesnayne's daughter! Ah, I heard the story told in Quebec--'twas La Barre's aid who gave me the facts with many a chuckle as though he held it an excellent joke. But why are you here, Madame? Is not M.

Cassion in the fort yonder?"

"'Tis a long tale, La Forest," broke in De Artigny, laying his hand on the other's shoulder, "and will bide a better time for telling. I am a soldier, and you may trust my word. We are La Salle's men; let it go at that, for there is graver duty fronting us now than the retelling of camp gossip. Madame is my friend, and my hand will defend her reputation. Is that enough, comrade?"

"Ay, enough. My best regards, Madame," and he bowed low before me, his words ringing true. "Whoever Sieur de la Salle has learned to trust hath my faith also. You have come from the fort I take it, De Artigny?

How are matters there?"

"Ill enough; the officers at swords' points, and the men divided into three camps, for where De la Durantaye stands there is no evidence. M.

Cassion holds command by virtue of La Barre's commission, and knows no more of Indian war than a Quebec storekeeper. The garrison numbers fifty men all told; two-thirds soldiers, and a poor lot."

"With ammunition, and food?"

"Ample to eat, so far as I know, but Boisrondet tells me with scarce a dozen rounds per man. The Iroquois are at the gates, and will attack at daylight."

"You know this?"

"The signs are plain. We passed one party clambering up the cliff--no less than fifty warriors, naked and painted for war. Tuscaroras, Madame said from the words she overheard as they slipped past where we hid. 'Tis not likely they made reconnoissance alone. The fiends have been a week in this valley, and have swept all clear of our Indian allies; now they can bring their full force against the fort."

"No doubt you are right."

"'Twas my judgment, at least, and we sought help when we ran into you.

What Indians have you?"

"Illini, mostly, with a handful of Miamis and Kickapoos. We met them at the crossing, hiding in the hills. They were sadly demoralized, and filled with horror at what they had seen, yet agreed to return here under my leadership."

"Who is their chief?"

"Old Sequitah--you know him?"

"Ay, a real warrior. 'Tis better than I dared hope, for I have been in battle with him before. Do you number a hundred?"

"And fifty more, though indifferently armed. Never have I seen the Illini in action, De Artigny; they seem to me a poor lot, so frightened of the wolves as to be valueless."

"So they are if left to themselves, but under white leadership they stiffen. They will fight if given the Indian style. They will never stand in defense, but if we lead them to a surprise, they'll give good account of themselves. That is my plan La Forest--that we creep up through the woods behind the Iroquois lines. They will expect no attack from the rear, and will have no guard. If we move quickly while it remains dark, we ought to get within a few yards of the red demons without discovery. They will fight desperately, no doubt, for their only hope of escape would be to either plunge down the rocky banks on either side, or cut a way through. You have been at the fort?"