Annette - The Metis Spy

"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.

"Brave lad, we owe our liberty to you; yet wherefore, I am sure, I

cannot tell."

But the boy only raised his hand, as if imposing silence upon that

point.

"You are by no means safe from the Indians yet. They will scour the

plains, and on this untrodden prairie you cannot conceal your trail.

My advice is that you make no delay, but push on to Fort Pitt, which

is only about twelve miles distant."

"Of all points this is the one that I should most desire to be at,"

responded Stephens; "but I do not know that I can find Pitt."

One of the number had been at the Fort a few years before; but he

could not make it again from this unknown part of the prairie.

"Follow me, then," answered the unknown. "I shall take you through

the hills by a short route to the river. Then you need but to follow

the bank to find the fort;" and as he spoke he once more dashed his

heels into his horse's flanks and set off towards the center of the

group of hills, that resembled in the distance a row of Dutchwomen in

heavy petticoats.

Several times as the party followed their deliverer, Stephens would

exclaim, "Where have I heard that voice? The tone is familiar to me, but I

cannot give the slightest guess as to the boys' identity."

"Do you think he is an Indian?" enquired one.

"His voice is certainly finer and sweeter than any Indian's that I

have ever heard. And his French is perfect.

"True, captain, and notice the delicate little hands that he has,

and the proud, dainty poise of his head. He is evidently in disguise;

and what is equally plain, he does not relish our attempts at

penetrating his identity." Upon the crest of a round hill, the guide

stayed his horse and pointed eastward.