and Rene Alice was bandaging Long-Hair's
wounded leg with strips of her apron. It was under some willows which
overhung the bank of a narrow and shallow lagoon or slough, which in
those days extended a mile or two back into the country on the farther
side of the river. Alice and Jean went over in a pirogue to see if the
water lilies, haunting a pond there, were yet beginning to bloom. They
landed at a convenient spot some distance up the little lagoon, made
the boat fast by dragging its prow high ashore, and were on the point
of setting out across a neck of wet, grassy land to the pond, when a
deep grunt, not unlike that of a self-satisfied pig, attracted them to
the willows, where they discovered Long-Hair, badly wounded, weltering
in some black mud.

His hiding-place was cunningly chosen, save that the mire troubled him,
letting him down by slow degrees, and threatening to engulf him bodily;
and he was now too weak to extricate himself. He lifted his head and
glared. His face was grimy, his hair matted with mud. Alice, although
brave enough and quite accustomed to startling experiences, uttered a
cry when she saw those snaky eyes glistening so savagely amid the
shadows. But Jean was quick to recognize Long-Hair; he had often seen
him about town, a figure not to be forgotten.

"They've been hunting him everywhere," he said in a half whisper to
Alice, clutching the skirt of her dress. "It's Long-Hair, the Indian
who stole the brandy; I know him."

Alice recoiled a pace or two.

"Let's go back and tell 'em," Jean added, still whispering, "they want
to kill him; Oncle Jazon said so. Come on!"

He gave her dress a jerk; but she did not move any farther back; she
was looking at the blood oozing from a wound in the Indian's leg.

"He is shot, he is hurt, Jean, we must help him," she presently said,
recovering her self-control, yet still pale. "We must get him out of
that bad place."

Jean caught Alice's merciful spirit with sympathetic readiness, and
showed immediate willingness to aid her.

It was a difficult thing to do; but there was a will and of course a
way. They had knives with which they cut willows to make a standing
place on the mud. While they were doing this they spoke friendly words
to Long-Hair, who understood French a little, and at last they got hold
of his arms, tugged, rested, tugged again, and finally managed to help
him to a dry place, still under the willows, where he could lie more at
ease. Je