peared somewhat to disconcert the traders, and one of them
rising, offered to go on again with the business after they had been
supplied with some more food, for which, as he expressed it, their souls
yearned.

Captain Mackintosh answered that a feast should be prepared for them,
but that as the gates were closed at a certain hour, they must not take
it amiss at being requested to leave the fort before that time.

While their spokesman was making his address, the dark eyes of the other
Indians were wandering around in every direction. Perhaps they began to
have an idea that their intentions were suspected, when they perceived
that all the men in the fort had pistols in their belts, and swords by
their sides, and their rifles in their hands.

While the traders were waiting for the promised feast, Captain
Mackintosh again went to the platform. Just as he reached it, he saw a
single horseman galloping at headlong speed towards the fort, and in the
distance, as if pursuing him, he observed an extended line of mounted
savages. His heart misgave him on discovering that the fugitive was Le
Brun, who, not even casting a glance over his shoulder, made straight
for the gate.

Captain Mackintosh hurried down to meet him. "What has happened?" he
inquired, with difficulty commanding his voice. "Where are the young
ladies and my son?"

"Monsieur, I cannot tell, though I fear the worst," answered Le Brun,
throwing himself from his panting horse, which stood covered with foam
at the gate. "I was on the track of the young ladies, and Monsieur
Norman, when I saw far away a large troop of Indians. I endeavoured to
avoid them, but was discovered, and they came thundering across the
prairie in pursuit of me. I fled for my life, feeling sure that they
would take my scalp, should I be overtaken, and that is all I know. I
would have died to save the young ladies, but it was beyond my power to
help them."

While he was speaking a shout was heard from one of the Indians, who had
remained with the horses outside the gate. In an instant the visitors
sprang to their feet, and drawing their tomahawks from beneath their
cloaks, uttering similar cries, rushed towards the white men standing
round. An athletic savage was about to strike Captain Mackintosh, when
a shot, fired by the hump-backed Indian, pierced his heart. Another
savage shared the same fate. The remainder fought desperately, their
aim evidently being to keep the gate o