“Hurrah!” I exclaimed, “and there’s Pat. I’m sure it must be him, and Pierre is riding alongside him, and supporting him on his horse.”
“I see a boy too,” exclaimed Martin. “He looks to me very like an Indian, and yet I fancy he’s got a white face. Who can he be?”
As the party drew nearer, we were satisfied that we were right in our conjectures. We all hurried out to meet them.
Sandy, as soon as he saw me, jumped off his horse, and nearly shook my hand off in his delight at finding I was safe.
“I thought it was all right,” he exclaimed, “as I’ll tell you by-and-by. We found your last resting-place, and traced you to the canoe; and as I discovered that Bouncer had made his way to you, I felt sure that you had gone down the stream, though I was not so sure how you would have shot the rapids.”
“How do you know that I came down in a canoe?” I asked.
“I have not been so long in the country, and accustomed to Indian ways, not to have seen that you had launched a canoe from the bank; besides which I had another proof, if any had been wanting, but I’ll tell you all about it presently,” he answered.
“And how did you find Pat?” asked Alick.
“And who is that boy in the Indian dress?” inquired Martin.
“If you put one question at a time, young gentlemen, I’ll tell you how it all happened,” said Sandy. “But if you have no objection, we’ll go into the fort and have some supper first; for as we have pushed on to get here before nightfall, we have had no opportunity of satisfying our hunger since noon.”