Let the young brave follow me. The Canadian
must stay here till you can send him help."

"Not a step do I go without him," replied Isidore, firmly. "If he
stays here, I stay here too."

For a moment the expression on the chief's face seemed to bode no good,
but it passed away, and after a short pause he set to work without a
word, and in a few minutes had cut down a dozen branches from the
nearest trees, and wound them into a rude litter. Then silently taking
Boulanger up, and laying him upon it as if he had been a mere child, he
took hold of one end of the litter, and signed to Isidore to take the
other. He did so, and they at once set out with it, the savage
threading the way through the dense forest with the most marvellous
dexterity, and at a pace with which Isidore found it no easy matter to
keep up. Refreshed as he had been by the food he had taken, and buoyed
up as he now was by fresh hope on Boulanger's account as well as his
own, he nevertheless felt that a march of any great length would be
beyond his strength. Perhaps the Indian noticed this, for he presently
slackened his pace.

"I hope we have done right to trust this fellow," Isidore said.

"There is nothing to fear," replied Boulanger. "If he had meant
mischief our scalps would long ago have been hanging by the side of
those others he has at his belt."

All this while they were gradually edging away from the sound of the
firing, which could now only be heard at a remote distance on their
right.

The Indian slackened his pace still more, and seemed to be listening
eagerly as if for some expected sound. Suddenly he stopped, and the
litter having been deposited on the ground, he turned to Isidore,
saying, "White Eagle has finished his task." At the same moment he
raised his rifle and discharged it in the air, and before the
astonished wayfarers could utter a word in reply, he had darted into
the thick wood and disappeared.

"It beats me altogether," said Boulanger; "he has brought us ever so
far away from the fort, and yet I can't think why he should start off
like that. He belongs to one of the Algonquin tribes, and they used to
be allies of ours. Hush! There is some one not far off."

"Qui vive?" shouted a voice from the underwood near them.

"French! Long live King Louis!" cried Isidore, in reply.

The usual challenge followed, and shortly afterwards a French officer
cautiously emerged from the brushwood, followed by a couple of h