ould be in
safety. She drew in her rein. Anxiously she looked towards the bluff
on which the fort had been built. "Surely, it rose above yonder clump
of bushes," she said to herself.

She approached cautiously. With a sinking heart she gazed at the spot
where the fort had stood. It was there no longer, and, in its place,
heaps of charred timber and ashes, the smoke from which still ascended
to the sky. There could be no doubt that the fort had been destroyed;
perhaps even the enemy were yet in the neighbourhood. Still, some of
her friends might have escaped. She turned silently away, resolving to
visit the spot as soon as the shades of night should veil her approach.
At some little distance was a thick cluster of trees. Retreating to it,
she carefully concealed the children and the horses. Then, lying down
with her little ones, she waited, with her ear close to the ground, for
the return of night.

The hours passed slowly. Not a sound broke the stillness of the
evening, save that made by the horses as they stirred up the snow to get
at the fresh grass and hay and leaves beneath. She fed her children--
they were too well trained to cry out--and, kissing them, and offering
up a silent prayer that they may be protected, she set out on her
perilous expedition. Her only weapon, besides her axe, was a long
knife. Gathering her garments tightly round, as she neared the spot
where the fort had stood, she crept silently up. The palisades and log
huts were still smouldering, but no human voice could she hear.
Cautiously at first, and then louder and louder, she called out the
names of Mr McDonald and those she had left with him in the fort.
Breathlessly she listened--no one answered to the summons. Again and
again she called. A strange cry reached her ears: she knew it well. A
sudden breeze at that moment fanned up the embers, and by the bright
flames which burst forth she beheld, in the farther-off corner of the
fort, a band of prairie wolves wrangling and fighting over a banquet,
the nature of which she guessed too well. To that part it was evident
her friends had retired, with their faces to the foe, and fought till
brought down by overwhelming numbers. At that sad moment a new fear
seized her--the cry of the prairie wolf reached her from another point:
it came from the wood where she had left her children. She panted with
agitation, with dread. Maternal love gave wings to her feet: she flew
rather than