"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."

"Nay, brave chief," replied Annette, "my mother is on the way
hither, and I must return and see that she is safe from harm." And
despite the beseeching eyes of the chief's prettiest wife, the daring
spy turned her horse and rode away followed by her dumb brother.

"Now Julie, we must see how it fares with the boat," and the two
horses went at a long, swinging gallop down the banks of Saskatchewan.
With the boat all was right, and in her clear, bird-like voice,
Annette informed the fugitives that Big Bear and his braves had
returned to their lodges.

"What turned then back?" enquired the same low, musical voice.

Annette hesitated, for she was not a girl that boasted of her
achievements. There are enough of maids white and brown, of lesser
character, to do that sort of thing.

"I told a story; I said that a great body of soldiers were close at
hand."

"Brava, brava," and the girl heard many words of warm commendation
spoken in the boat. Then letting her luminous eyes linger for a
moment with a tender longing upon the barge, she raised her voice,
saying,

"Bon voyage Messieurs," and was off through the dark like a swallow.