f a most extravagant nature, which, however, clearly spelt "Okematan."
When he had finished, he nodded and turned his gaze again on the Crees.

Both men now understood that treachery was in the wind, and that a night
attack was highly probable; and, of course, they felt desperately
anxious to jump up and fly back to the camp to warn their comrades--for
their only fear was a surprise. The half-breeds being far more numerous
than the Indians, and well entrenched, there could be no fear for them
if prepared.

Just then, as if to favour them, the moon retired behind a huge black
cloud.

Without a moment's hesitation Dan began to creep away back, closely
followed by Fergus. They gave a wide berth of course to the sentinel,
and soon regained the hollow where the horses had been left. Here they
breathed more freely.

"Who would have thought this of Okematan?" muttered Dan, as he hastily
tightened his saddle-girths.

"The _rascal_!" exclaimed Fergus, in deep tones of indignation.

"You must gallop back to camp at once, Fergus," said Dan, as they
mounted. "I will go on to Red River alone."

"What! will you not be coming with me?" asked the Highlander, in some
surprise.

"There is no need, for there will be no fighting," returned the other.
"Our fellows far outnumber the Red-skins, and when the latter find that
we have been warned, and are on our guard, they won't attack us, depend
on it. But you'll have to ride fast, for when such fellows make up
their minds to strike they don't usually waste time in delivering the
blow. My business presses, I _must_ go on."

A minute later, and Dan Davidson was galloping towards the Settlement
alone, while Fergus made the best of his way back to the camp of the
buffalo runners.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED.

Whether or not Okematan was as thorough a rascal as Fergus McKay thought
him will be best shown by harking back, and setting down a little of
what was said by some of the Cree braves at the time that Fergus and Dan
were eavesdropping.

Standing in a dignified attitude worthy of an ancient Roman, with his
blanket thrown toga-fashion over one shoulder, one of the braves looked
round on the warrior band with a dark scowl before he began. His
comrades were evidently impressed by his looks. Whether owing to a
freak of fancy, a spice of eccentricity, or simple vanity, we know not,
but this brave had, among other ornamental touches to his visa