Annette, the Metis Spy Part 10

"Now, if we can find their ponies!" Annette said.

"Wherefore look for their ponies, mademoiselle?"

"You soon shall see. Ah, here they are; stay you there, Julie, I will come to you again presently." But Julie followed her mistress. A little shudder pa.s.sed through her heart as she saw the dull glitter of something in her mistress' hand.

"I don't like to do this cruel thing; but then I spill only brute blood; and I do so to save the shedding of human blood." Julie now surmised what her mistress was about; and drew her own knife. Annette had already pa.s.sed from one of the ponies, after pausing for a few seconds stooped by its hinder legs, to another; and with the knife still gleaming in her hand, performed upon the second beast what she had done to the first.

"You just cut the tendons of the hinder legs, I suppose, mademoiselle?" Julie enquired in a whisper.

"What, are you at work too, Julie?"

"Oui mademoiselle; I have cut yonder one, and yon;" and she darted away to continue the work of mutilation. In a few minutes the uncanny task was ended, and with a shudder at their hearts the girls wiped their knives and led away from the flock of lamed and bleeding beasts the horses of Captain Stephens and his brother captive. These they tethered beside their own, and again returned. They then proceeded with noiseless tread towards the hostile camp.

The fire had burnt lower, but the glow was still strong enough to reveal the condition of the camp. After Annette had counted every Indian, and convinced herself that one and all were soundly sleeping, and that Jean in his tent was the deepest slumberer of all, she whispered softly.

"Remain you here, Julie. Should I be discovered fly instantly and take horse. Don't tarry for me. Peace, ma pet.i.te amie; I go."

And softly as sleep she went away, and in among the trees till she stood within a pace of where her deliverer lay. He had been on the border land that divides the world from the realm of dreams; but through the wavering senses of his eye and ear, he was sensible of the faintest stir among the leaves, of a shadow moving near him.

Instantly his eyes were wide open; and the dull glow of the embers revealed standing above him with his finger on his lips, the figure of the beautiful Indian boy who had saved his life before. The next moment, the boy is leaning over him; in another moment his bonds are severed, and he is free.

"Go," whispered the boy, pointing toward the bluff; "no noise."

These words were as low and as fine as the little whisper that you hear among the leaves of the alder when a faint wind comes out of the west on a summer's evening and moves them. And while he yet remained bewildered by the suddenness of the boy's appearance, his own deliverance, and the order that had been given to him, he perceived the lad stooping over his companion in captivity, and severing the thongs that bound him. Stephens now moved hastily away a short distance, and then turned. The captive was upon his feet, and his deliverer was beside him; but at the same moment he saw a tall savage bound to his feet, with hatchet uplifted, and make towards the two.

At the same time he uttered the fierce alarum-yell of the Stoney tribe.

"Fly!" shouted the Indian boy to the white. "Away!" and then he turned to face the approaching foe. The savage came on, and when, as it seemed to Stephens, his hatchet was about to cleave the boy's skull, there was a pistol report, and the Indian fell with a convulsive toss of his arms. This was accomplished in the s.p.a.ce of a couple of heart-beats; but the time was long enough to bring Jean and the entire party to their feet.

"Fly!" repeated the Indian boy, and he bounded swiftly out of the bluff, joining Stephens, his companion and Julie, who all four now led off across the dark prairie towards the horses.

"Ought we not get our horses," Stephens enquired in a low hurried tone, for the noise of the pursuit from the camp was close, and tumultuous as a broken bedlam.

"You will get your horses, Monsieur," Annette replied, and Captain Stephens implicitly relied upon the word of the beautiful youth. The gra.s.s upon the prairie was thick and high, and in some places lay in heavy tangles, making slow the progress of the refugees; but they were able to keep their distance ahead of the Indians, who with flaring flambeaux were following their trail like bloodhounds. Out of the darkness came a series of sharp whinnies, and the next moment they found themselves among the horses. The beasts were ready for mounting, and without delay or bungle, the party were instantly in the saddles and cantering briskly across the prairie. As they rode along cries of baffled rage came to their ears; and they knew that the Indians had discovered the plight of their ponies.

But when they had ridden beyond the sound of the enemies' voices, they slacked their pace, and Captain Stephens said,

"Brave lad, is it your intention to ride all night?"

"No, Monsieur; I purpose resting at the first suitable place, till moon-rise. It is not safe for our horses' legs travelling among the gopher-burrows in the dark. At any rate Monsieur le Capitaine and his companion must be hungry."

"During my captivity I have eaten nothing save a piece of an elk's heart raw; and I do not believe that Phillips has taken anything."

The truth is that Phillips had been severely wounded; and besides several shot wounds in his side, his left arm was at this moment in a sling, having been nigh severed from his body with a hatchet blow.

"No, I have not eaten; and I think it was as well while the fever of my wounds was upon me."

"But," continued Captain Stephens, "I am most anxious to rest that I may hear how came you, my brave lad, and your heroic companion, to get knowledge of our capture; how it is that fate seems to have singled you out to be my constant guardian-angel and deliverer. I trust that you will not refuse the explanations as you did on a former occasion. A man who has been thrice rescued from probable death, has good excuse for seeking to know all about the person who has delivered him."

"I would much rather that Monsieur did not press me upon the point,"

the boy replied in a low voice.

"But I will, my heroic lad. I believe that we met somewhere before under different circ.u.mstances; for several times I have noticed a familiar accent in your voice."

"It is only a delusion, Monsieur," she replied in the same low tone.

"But, here is a bluff wherein we shall be likely to find some place to rest for a little;" and turning her horse, she led the way along a gra.s.sy lane which seemed, in the night, as regular as if it had been fas.h.i.+oned with human hands. As she halted and while her hand lay upon her horse's neck, she said:

"I have a tent which I regret I cannot offer to share with you; but we can prepare a comfortable supper upon the gra.s.s; and you can rest cosily in the warmth of the fire." With these words she dismounted.

In a few minutes the white of the tent loomed through the dusk; and presently a fire was roaring and scattering about a spray of scarlet sparks.

Annette had some moments with Julie in the tent, while Stephens was busy making a comfortable resting-place for his wounded companion.

"Julie, I cannot longer keep this secret; when we have eaten, I shall tell him. But oh! I think it will nearly kill me to do it. I am so ashamed; our dress, you know, Julie." And by the dull glimmer of the camp-fire Julie could see that her mistress' face was like a freshly-blown carnation.

"I would not mind telling mon chef, ma maitresse; Monsieur Stephens will prize you all the more for your bravery. And then it is so becoming;" and this sweetest of maids looked admiringly at the exquisite curves and grace of outline in her mistress. And she came to her softly as a mouse, taking the still blus.h.i.+ng face into her brown hands, and looking lovingly into the luminous eyes.

"Ah Julie, your chief, or our own Metis, might admire us in this costume, but the ladies of Captain Stephens' acquaintance would shrink from doing that in which we see naught amiss. He may think it indelicate and--." Once more the blood came stinging with a thousand sharp points in her temples; but Julie interposed:

"Nay, mademoiselle; if you have done anything unlike what white ladies do, it was for the sake of Captain Stephens; and if you did not adopt disguise, you could not have saved him."

"True, sweet Julie; you fill me with courage;" and then she set about preparing the meal.

Captain Stephens was amazed at the deftness with which the young scout prepared the repast; and he lay upon the gra.s.s, with his eyes rivetted upon the nimble, noiseless, graceful lad. It puzzled him that the mysterious youth should persistently keep his head averted, and he was the more strongly decided to discover his ident.i.ty. When the meal was ended Annette whispered,

"Julie will come with us; I never could tell him in the light of the fire." Then turning towards Captain Stephens, with eyes looking timidly down, "If monsieur will walk forth a little with me and mon frere, I shall tell him something."

Certainly, he would go, and was upon his feet beside the mysterious boy, whose colour had now become most fitful, changing from pale olive to the dye of the damask rose. They went beyond the bluff, and out upon the prairie, Stephens marvelling much, though speaking no word, what the handsome boy had to say to him.

"Monsieur," she began in a soft, trembling voice, "has wondered who I am, and thinks he has heard my voice before. He has heard it--at the cottage of my father."

Captain Stephens turned around and gazed with amazement at the lad.

"He has heard it elsewhere, too," Annette went on--"he heard it on the br.i.m.m.i.n.g river; he saved me from death below the chute."

"Heavens, Annette Marton! Sweet, generous, n.o.ble girl, why had I not guessed the truth," and he stood rapt with grat.i.tude and admiration before her. Kindly dusk of the starless prairie that hid the blushes and confusion of the girl!

Then in a low tone, as they walked aimlessly about upon the plain, she told him the story of her adventures, all of which my reader already knows. Then they returned; and when they neared the camp fire, Annette with a shy little run disappeared into her tent, murmuring softly,

"Au revoir, Monsieur."

Her dreams were bewildering, yet delicious, that night; but there ran through them all a feeling of shame that he should have detected her in those unwomanly clothes. Indeed, the embarra.s.sment went further than this; and once she imagined, the dear maiden, that she was by the edge of an amber-green pool fringed with rowan bushes and their vermillion berries, and that as she was about to step into it for a bath, there occurred what happened in the case of Artemis and her maids, the one upon whom her heart was set taking the place of Actaon. She gave a great scream and awoke, to find Julie sitting up and looking with wide affrighted eyes through the dusk at her mistress.

"Oh, I had such a horrid dream, Julie," and nestling her head upon the bosom of her maid, she was soon asleep and wandering again in spirit with her lover through the prairie flowers.

They were astir early in the morning, and Annette, as was the habit of the Metis women, had about her shoulders a blanket of Indian red and Prussian blue. [Footnote: It is customary for Metis women, even the most coquettish and pretty of them, to wear blankets; and the hideous "fas.h.i.+on" is the chief barbaric trait which they inherit from their wild ancestry. Annette, of course, donned the robe under a mental protest. E.C.] Captain Stephens had gone abroad upon the prairie in the morning, and with his pistol shot a pair of chickens.

These he handed to Annette as he returned, saying,

"Here my little hero deliverer; and take this, too," handing her a tiger lily, moist with dew. "Now, in what way can I a.s.sist the Cree boy who has twice saved my life?" and he looked wistfully into the eyes of the brown maiden.

"If monsieur will just sit there upon the gra.s.s, pet.i.te and myself will get the meal;" and straightway she began to pluck and prepare the chickens which Stephens had given her. The sun burned through the cobalt blue of the prairie sky, and there was not anywhere in the great, blue dome an atom of cloud. The sun and the rays from the fire combined made the heat unbearable, and Annette with no little confusion laid by her blanket. Perceiving her discomfiture, Stephens arose and wandered about the prairie, picking flowers; and only returned in obedience to the call of Julie's little silver whistle.