grove of trees straggling up from the flat in the moonlight, and
resembling a congregation of witches with draggled hair, suffering
torture. Beyond the trees shone a cluster of white camps; and the
girl's heart gave a great bound as she saw by the order prevailing
there, that the inmates had been so far unmolested. She sprang into
the midst of the camps and shouted,

"Awaken! Arise! Quick! The Crees are bound hither to make you
captives. Allons! Allons!"

A tall supple figure sprang from one of the tents. How readily she
recognised his manly step, his proud head, his bright eye, his
musical voice.

"Who are you? Why this attack?"

"I am you friend. Away, if you value your liberty, and mount your
horse. I await to lead you from the danger." With motion quick and
noiseless as the movements of night birds, the inmates of the tents
armed themselves, strapped their knapsacks, and got into the saddle.
No one questioned the graceful Indian boy further. There was
something so appealing in his voice, so impatient in his gestures as
he waited for their departure, that suspicion could not lurk in any
mind.

"Hark!" cried the unknown. "They come. Hear you not the dull trample
of their hoofs?"

"By the saints in heaven, yes, and I see them too," said one of the
party, looking from his saddle through a night-glass.