"The mother of the hunter is free."
"Yes. Well! what do you want with me?"
"A prisoner has no arms."
"That's true," he said, with a smile of contempt, "I will give you mine."
"Not yet, if you please, good friend!" said a clear, sarcastic voice; and Belhumeur rode up, bearing across the front of his saddle a child of four or five years of age, and a rather pretty young Indian Squaw securely fastened to the tail of his horse.
"My son! my wife!" cried Eagle Head, in great terror.
"Yes," said the Canadian jeeringly, "your wife and child, whom I have made prisoners. Ah ah! that is pretty well played, is it not?"
At a signal from his friend, Loyal Heart bounded on the woman, whose teeth chattered with fear, and who cast terrified looks on all sides.
"Now," Belhumeur continued with a sinister smile, "let us talk a bit; I think I have equalized the chances a little—what say you?"
And he placed the muzzle of a pistol to the brow of the little creature, which uttered loud cries on feeling the cold iron.