"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 petit ami" came to the shore; 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