l have a squaw to wait
upon her. I have spoken."

He was a far-seeing redskin, and meditated grim reprisals
when the time was ripe.

In a few days, when the snow had completely gone, they
started back to the Eagle Hills. It was heavy travelling,
and the men had to walk, but the Indians got a light Red
River cart for Dorothy, and in this, attended by a squaw,
she made the greater part of the journey. Their goods
were not interfered with, for the Indians had a plethora
of loot from the Battleford stores. But still the
uncertainty of their ultimate fate was ever hanging over
them. They knew that if Poundmaker thought the British
were not coming, or that they were not strong enough to
vanquish him, he was capable of any devilry.

They passed into the wild, broken country of the Eagle
Hills, the "Bad Lands," as they were called, and there,
in a great grassy hollow surrounded by precipices, gullies,
and terraces of wonderfully-coloured clays, they camped.

It was now the end of April, and the prisoners were
beginning to get uneasy. Had anything happened to the
British, or had they been left to their fate? The situation
was more critical than they cared to admit But one day
all was bustle in the camp, and the warriors stood to
their arms.

The British column had moved out from Battleford, and
was advancing to give battle to Poundmaker.

The critical moment had come.

CHAPTER XX

THE BATTLE OF CUT-KNIFE

When the Indians discovered that bright May morning that
a British column had unexpectedly moved right up to their
position, there was a scene approaching confusion for a
few minutes. But they had studied the ground for days
and knew every inch of it, so that each individual had
his allotted post, and needed no orders to go there.
Luckily for the prisoners, however, Poundmaker had not
time to put into operation the elaborate plans he had
contemplated. Moreover, the chief saw, to his no little
consternation, that, as Child-of-Light had said, the
soldiers of the White Queen were in numbers beyond anything
he had expected. He therefore hurried the prisoners up
a narrow terrace to a high headland from which it would
be impossible to escape, and where a couple of Indians
could effectually take charge of them. The latter followed
close at their heels with loaded rifles. To the no little
satisfaction of Pasmore and the others, the headland, or
bluff, which must have been some two hundred feet high,
commanded