"Ugh!" grunted the chief, "no more coming. We go down and shoot em at em houses." Then the fiend divided his warriors into four companies, each one of which was assigned a couple of murders. One party proceeded toward the house of Mr. Gowanlock. Creeping stealthily, they reached within forty yards of the dwelling without being perceived. Then Mrs. Gowanlock, a young woman, recently married, walked out of her abode, and gathering some kindling wood in her apron, returned again. When the Indians saw her, they threw themselves upon their faces, and so escaped observation. No one happened to be looking out of the window after Mrs. Gowanlock came back; but about half a minute afterwards several shadows flitted by the window, and immediately six or seven painted Indians, with rifles cocked, and uttering diabolical yells, burst into the house. The chief was with this party; and aiming his rifle, shot poor Gowanlock dead. Another aimed at a man named Gilchrist, but Mrs. Gowanlock heroically seized the savage's arms from behind, and prevented him for a moment or two. But the vile murderer shook her off, and falling back a pace or two, fired at her, killing her instantly.
The York boat, with its brave little band, reached Battleford in safety, and the two handsome Indian boys pitched their tents aloof upon the prairie, about, a mile distant from the Fort, selecting a little cup shaped hollow, rimmed around with scrubby white oak. The horses fed in the centre, and at the edge of the bushes gleamed the white sides of the tent.
That evening, as the two entered the town, they perceived a tall
Indian standing by the gate.
"It is Little Poplar," whispered Julie; and seeing the two maidens about the same time, the chief stepped forward.
"Cruel work," he said, "reported from Frog Lake. Captain Stephens and two others were sent an hour ago with fast horses to enquire if the story is true. But he had not long passed this gate when I noticed Jean, the great chief's man, and a dozen of the Stoney Crees ride after him. I am sure that they are plotting him harm."
"What route did they take?" asked Annette, while her eyes grew large and bright.
"They went upon the muskeg trail. It leads directly to Frog Lake."
"Thank you again, chief; I go immediately." Julie likewise turned about.
"Nay, you must not encounter this peril with me; already you have ventured more than I should have permitted;" but a look of sorrowful reproach came into the little maiden's eye.
"Is Julie of no use, that her mistress will not consent for her to come? Did the faithful follower not say in the beginning that wherever her mistress went, there she would go? that the dangers of the mistress should be borne also by the maid?"