We left Annette and her little companion speeding along the banks of
the Saskatchewan bound for Pitt. They dare not come near the
stockades, for the Indians had invested the high ground overlooking
the Fort, and would be sure to make embarrassing enquiries of the two
strange Indian boys.
"My plan is this Julie," Annette said. "We shall camp in the valley
beyond Turtle Hill, and when it grows dark, we can come in and see
the state of affairs about the garrison."
"Oui Mademoiselle; and Tall Poplar is to be at the stockade facing
the river half an hour after sun-set. He said he would be there, in
case that we should in any way need his assistance."
"Bon, ma Julie. It seems to me that your fine chef may be of some
use to us before these troubles end."
Then the two dismounted, and tethering their horses set at work to
pitch their tent. Annette had brought a tent, strapped to her saddle,
from her aunt's; and the two sweet maidens opened out the folds, set
up the white cotton in a cleared plot, in the centre of a copse of
white oak, where it was securely screened from passing eyes. Julie
took from her pony's back a thick, large rug, which was to serve the
two for a coverlet; and going forth a short way the four little brown
hands busied themselves breaking soft branches from the trees.
"There," Annette said, as she put down her armful in the tent; "that
will make a pillow as cosy as a sack of mallard's down. Now, Julie,
we shall eat, then sleep till the afternoon; for I suspect that there
will be little rest for us while the sun is below the prairie."
Julie opened the hamper, and the winsome pair fell to, making a
hearty meal from home-made bread, cold quail, and butter with the
very perfume of the prairie flowers. A little way beyond a jet of
cold, clear water came gurgling out of the rocks; and tripping away
Julie fetched a cup. Then they fastened their hamper, put their
pistols by their side, laid themselves down together, and fell asleep
to the music of the little spring, and the bickering of gold finches
in the leaves.
When Annette awoke, it was the mellow afternoon, and the sun shone
like a great yellow shield low in the west. Annette stepped quietly
out, her dainty little feet hardly crushing the flowers as she went,
to take a peep at the horses. They, too, had lain down; but upon
seeing the pair of large, bright, peering eyes, they arose, stretched
themselves, whisked their tails, and began again feasting on the
crisp, luscious grass.
When the sun's upper rim lay like a little semi-circle of fire over
the far edge of the prairie, the two adventurers girded on their
belts, and taking their revolvers, started away like a pair of prying
fawns toward the Fort. Twilight does not tarry long upon the plains;
and when the maidens reached the confines of the Fort, the stockades
and the enclosed buildings were a mere dusky blur. Moving cautiously
along the side facing the river, they perceived a straight, tall
figure, awaiting them; and the handsome chief stepped up.