Annette, the Metis Spy by J. E. (Joseph Edmund) Collins
page 86 of 179 (48%)
page 86 of 179 (48%)
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"Most of them sleep; and presently there will not be an open eye
among the braves. Ah, Julie, if you but saw how they have _him_ bound--both of the captives, I mean." And her eyes flashed, while her hand made a little blind, convulsive motion toward her pistol. "We have no time now to waste; help me to pack." In the space of a few minutes everything was ready for a start, and the horses led away to another bluff which loomed up about five hundred yards distant. Julie could not divine the reason for this precaution, but Annette whispered, "Child, the light of our fire might, at the first moment of flight lead to recapture, should any of my plans fail; and it would take us a half an hour to extinguish the embers by fetching water in our little pans." Yes, Julie saw a little of what her mistress was aiming at; and reposed perfect trust in Annette's ability to do everything with skill and success. The beasts were tethered, and dark as was that prairie night, these two girls with skill as unerring as the instinct of a pair of night-hawks could come back and find them. Then they struck out through the long grass, and made for the bluff where lay the Stonies and their prisoners. "Now, if we can find their ponies!" Annette said. "Wherefore look for their ponies, mademoiselle?" "You soon shall see. Ah, here they are; stay you there, Julie, I will come to you again presently." But Julie followed her mistress. A little shudder passed through her heart as she saw the dull glitter |
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