"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.
"A few minutes ride will take you to the river; half an hour then to the north and you are at Pitt. Before I leave, just a word. Tall Elk put on paint to-day, and before the set of to-morrow's sun, there is not a Cree in all the region who will not be on the war-path. To-morrow the chief goes to Big Bear, to press him to dig up the hatchet; so Messieurs, look to your guns in the Fort, as you will have more than three hundred enemies under the stockades before the rising of the next moon. Au revoir."
Before any of the group could utter a word of thanks, the mysterious boy was off again to the north-west with the speed of the wind.