At that moment a slight rustling noise was heard. Looking through the
bush, they saw the Blackfoot sentinel approaching. Instantly they sank
down into the grass, where they lay so flat and still that it seemed as
if they had vanished entirely from the scene.

When the sentinel was almost abreast of them, a sound arose from the
camp which caused him to stop and listen. It was the sound of song.
The missionary--the only _man_ the Blackfoot Indians had not slain--
having finished supper, had gathered some of the women and children
round him, and, after an earnest prayer, had begun a hymn of praise. At
first the Blackfoot chief was on the point of ordering them to cease,
but as the sweet notes arose he seemed to be spell-bound, and remained a
silent and motionless listener. The sentinel on the mound also became
like a dark statue. He had never heard such tones before.

After listening a few minutes in wonder, he walked slowly to the end of
the mound nearest to the singers.

"Now's our chance, Whitewing," said the trapper, rising from his lair.

The Indian made no reply, but descended the slope as carefully as he had
ascended it, followed by his friend. In a short time they were back at
the spot where the horses had been left in charge of Brighteyes.

Whitewing took his sister aside, and for a few minutes they conversed in
low tones.

"I have arranged it all with Brighteyes," said the Indian, returning to
the trapper.

"Didn't I tell 'ee," said Tim, with a low laugh, "that women was good at
helpin' men in time o' war? Depend upon it that the sex must have a
finger in every pie; and, moreover, the pie's not worth much that they
haven't got a finger in."

To these remarks the young chief vouchsafed no answer, but gravely went
about making preparations to carry out his plans.

While tying the three horses to three separate trees, so as to be ready
for instant flight, he favoured his friend with a few explanations.

"It is not possible," he said, "to take more than three just now, for
the horses cannot carry more. But these three Brighteyes will rescue
from the camp, and we will carry them off. Then we will return with our
braves and have all the rest--if Manitou allows."

The trapper looked at his friend in surprise. He had never before heard
him make use of such an expression as the last. Nevertheless, he made
no remark, but while the three were gliding silently over the prairie
again towards the Bl