t I was not conscious of fear, although a
moment later, I could perceive the dim figures of savages. They were
but mere vague shadows in the night, and I made no attempt to count
them, only realizing that they were grouped together in the trail. I
could not have told how they faced, but there was a faint sound of
guttural speech, which proved them unsuspicious of danger. Barbeau,
lying low like a snake, crept cautiously forward, making not the
slightest noise, and closely hugging the deeper shadow of the bank. I
endeavored to imitate his every motion, almost dragging my body
forward by gripping my fingers into the rock-strewn earth.

We advanced by inches, pausing now and then to listen breathlessly to
the low murmur of the Indian voices, and endeavoring to note any
change in the posture of the barely distinguishable figures. There was
no alarm, no changing of places, and the success of our approach
brought to us new confidence. Once a savage form, appearing grotesque
in its blanket, suddenly stood erect, and we shrunk close to the
ground in terror of discovery. An instant of agony followed, in which
we held our breath, staring through the dark, every nerve throbbing.
But the fellow merely stretched his arms lazily, uttered some guttural
word, and resumed his place.

Once the gleam of a star reflected from a rifle barrel as its owner
shifted position; but nothing else occurred to halt our steady
advance. We were within a very few yards of them, so close, indeed, I
could distinguish the individual forms, when Barbeau paused, and, with
deliberate caution, rose on one knee. Realizing instantly that he was
preparing for the desperate leap, I also lifted my body, and braced
myself for the effort. De Artigny touched me, and spoke, but his voice
was so low it scarcely reached my ears.

"Do not hesitate; run swift, and straight. Give Barbeau the signal."

What followed is to me a delirium of fever, and remains in memory
indistinct and uncertain. I reached out, and touched Barbeau; I heard
the sudden roar of De Artigny's voice, the sharp report of the
soldier's rifle. The flame cut the dark as though it was the blade of
a knife, and, in the swift red glare, I saw a savage fling up his arms
and fall headlong. Then all was chaos, confusion, death. Nothing
touched me, not even a gripping hand, but there were Indian shots,
giving me glimpse of the hellish scene, of naked bodies, long waving
hair, eyes mad with terror, and red ar