d gathered about it.

Suddenly the whites found themselves completely surrounded by a great
number of Indians, who seemed to spring, as though by magic, from every
bush and from behind every tree. So secretly had their approach been
made that the first notice Simon and those with him had of the ambush
into which they had fallen, was a vast discharge of arrows and spears
into their ranks. These were accompanied by such blood-curdling yells
that they affected the white men almost as fearfully as the roar of
their own artillery had terrified the savages in the morning.

Rallying from their first panic, they made a desperate attempt to force
their way back to the fort, and struggled like men who knew their lives
were at stake. In spite, however, of their bravery and the terrible
execution of their swords, they were being overpowered by numbers, and
it seemed impossible that a single one of them should escape with his
life.

As, completely exhausted by the terrible and unequal struggle, they
were about giving way to despair, a most welcome and unexpected
diversion was made in their favor. A great cry arose beyond the line
of savages, and they were so suddenly and fiercely attacked in the rear
by an unseen foe that they fled in the utmost terror in all directions.

Not even waiting to learn who had lent them this most timely aid, the
soldiers hastened to regain the fort and seek shelter behind its
ponderous gates.

As they did so, they heard, or thought they heard, from the depths of
the forest, a clear voice crying, "France to the Rescue! France to the
Rescue!" and they marvelled greatly thereat.

CHAPTER XI

RENE'S RETURN

When Rene de Veaux sank down in the bottom of the canoe, completely
exhausted by his labors at the paddle, and by the pain of Chitta's
arrow that quivered in his shoulder, he became almost unconscious, and
only dimly realized that they had escaped from their cruel pursuers.
Then he had a vague knowledge of being lifted from the canoe and borne
away, very gently, he knew nor cared not whither, and then he seemed to
fall asleep. When he again awoke to an interest in his surroundings,
he felt that a soft hand was smoothing his brow, and the air was cooled
by a delicious sweet-scented breeze. Opening his eyes, he saw bending
over him, and fanning him with a fan woven of fragrant grasses,
Has-se's beautiful sister Nethla.

As he attempted to rise she gently restrained him, and bidding h