"See; they near the swamp, and will be able, after a struggle, to
get through it. Now, Julie, I wish to ride down when they get fairly
in the toils; but I would prefer that you should go in the direction
we were pursuing. If everything is right, I shall soon overtake you."

"Oh, I go with ma chere maitresse, to do whatever she does."

"Brava, Julie; I do not think we have much to fear. Ha, they are in
the toils. In fifteen minutes they will be out. Let us away." While
she guided her horse with her bridle hand, Julie perceived her
unbutton her holster pipe, and seize and cock a Colt's revolver.

"I have one, too," muttered Julie; "so I guess I'll do the same
thing." Not a bit of cowardice did the sweet exhibit now.

They were now within a hundred paces of that portion of the swamp
wherein the braves were tangled. And if ever savages, or anything
else, were in a mess, these painted warriors now were. They had
reached the centre of the bog, and were floundering in it up to their
horses' bellies. Their excitement was so intense that they had eyes
for no other place than the spot where their horses floundered and
writhed; and did not notice the approach of the fugitives. Nay, the
two had reached the very edge of the quagmire before the Indians
noticed the Cree boys. The yell that then went up from their throats
was most comical.

Annette's arm was extended, and her revolver was pointed at the
nearest savage; seeing which, Julie drew hers, and covered the next
brave. But before she had the lid over her left eye, Annette had