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Annette, the Metis Spy by J. E. (Joseph Edmund) Collins
page 77 of 179 (43%)
stream of ink-black water which wallowed through a larch swamp for
many miles till it reached the face of a bold cliff down which its
flood went booming with the sound of thunder. At every step now the
horses sank almost to the knee; but as the trail was yet visible they
pushed on, keeping close to the banks of the stream.

Beyond was a bluff of poplar and white oak, and as the riders passed
round it, the gleam of a camp-fire about a quarter of a mile distant
shone through the trees.

"Hist; here they are. We shall go behind this clump and pitch our
tent; then we can see how affairs stand."

The horses were corralled, the tent pitched, a fire lighted; and
Julie was busy breaking branches for pillows. Annette prepared the
supper.

"What is your next step, my ingenious hero mistress?"

"To steal up near the camp-fire and see to which party it belongs;
or whether the worst has happened." Her fingers trembled a little as
she ate; but her heart was as brave as a lion's.

"Take your pistol, Julie, and let us go." The night was pitchy dark,
although the fog had rolled away; for the moon had not yet risen, and
no light came from the few feeble stars that were out. Over swamp and
tangle, across bare marsh, and through dense wood they went, lightly
as a pair of fawns, till the warm, ruddy glare of the strange camp-fire
shone on their faces.

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