Annette - The Metis Spy

"Go," whispered the boy, pointing toward the bluff; "no noise."

These words were as low and as fine as the little whisper that you

hear among the leaves of the alder when a faint wind comes out of the

west on a summer's evening and moves them. And while he yet remained

bewildered by the suddenness of the boy's appearance, his own

deliverance, and the order that had been given to him, he perceived

the lad stooping over his companion in captivity, and severing the

thongs that bound him. Stephens now moved hastily away a short

distance, and then turned. The captive was upon his feet, and his

deliverer was beside him; but at the same moment he saw a tall savage

bound to his feet, with hatchet uplifted, and make towards the two.

At the same time he uttered the fierce alarum-yell of the Stoney

tribe.

"Fly!" shouted the Indian boy to the white. "Away!" and then he

turned to face the approaching foe. The savage came on, and when, as

it seemed to Stephens, his hatchet was about to cleave the boy's

skull, there was a pistol report, and the Indian fell with a

convulsive toss of his arms. This was accomplished in the space of a

couple of heart-beats; but the time was long enough to bring Jean and

the entire party to their feet.

"Fly!" repeated the Indian boy, and he bounded swiftly out of the

bluff, joining Stephens, his companion and Julie, who all four now

led off across the dark prairie towards the horses.

"Ought we not get our horses," Stephens enquired in a low hurried

tone, for the noise of the pursuit from the camp was close, and

tumultuous as a broken bedlam.

"You will get your horses, Monsieur," Annette replied, and Captain

Stephens implicitly relied upon the word of the beautiful youth. The

grass upon the prairie was thick and high, and in some places lay in

heavy tangles, making slow the progress of the refugees; but they

were able to keep their distance ahead of the Indians, who with

flaring flambeaux were following their trail like bloodhounds. Out of

the darkness came a series of sharp whinnies, and the next moment

they found themselves among the horses. The beasts were ready for

mounting, and without delay or bungle, the party were instantly in

the saddles and cantering briskly across the prairie. As they rode

along cries of baffled rage came to their ears; and they knew that

the Indians had discovered the plight of their ponies.

But when they had ridden beyond the sound of the enemies' voices,

they slacked their pace, and Captain Stephens said, "Brave lad, is it your intention to ride all night?"

"No, Monsieur; I purpose resting at the first suitable place, till

moon-rise. It is not safe for our horses' legs travelling among the

gopher-burrows in the dark. At any rate Monsieur le Capitaine and his

companion must be hungry."