“He ordered the men to look after the boats. They had been drawn up, but the ground was sloping, the rain a torrent, the blackness something fearful save when the blinding blaze of light came. He was there ordering, cursing, threatening. Then a tree crashed down and pinned him to the earth. He is badly hurt about the legs, but has voice enough left in him for four.” Wawataysee shuddered. “Ma’m’selle!” in a breathless manner. “Yes?” with eager inquiry. “I am going to escape. There never can be a more favorable moment.” “Oh! oh! oh!” she cried in a piercing tone. “I shall find my way to St. Louis. Ma’m’selle, if you and the child dared and would trust me. For if I have heard aright, you are to be taken to some chief up in the straits. And if you shrank from going——” “I shall never reach there alive. I know a swift, unfailing poison—” And her words came out sharply. He gave her a half-horrified, half-entreating look. “It will be a hard journey. But if we should start now there is not much chance of our being overtaken. Everything is in such confusion, and it may be weeks before Black Feather is able to move about. We would follow the river as well as we could, keeping out of sight if the other boats come up, as they are likely to do. For the rest we must trust to the good God. I shall take a gun. I have dreamed this over many times. And if you will go——” “You mean to start now—in the storm?” “It will clear up presently, by noon. Meanwhile, I could plan all the arrangements. Just now you are not a close prisoner. There is no telling what may happen to-morrow.” “That is true.” Wawataysee studied the eager young face. The eyes had an honest, pleading look. “I will trust you,” she said. “Tell me what to do when you are ready.” The party were too terror-stricken to think much of their captives. There were the three dead men lying out in the rain. They brought Black Feather up to the miserable wigwam and bound up his bruised limbs, finding that one leg only was broken. Black Feather had tabooed the company of women on these journeys, and had a half-breed that he had trained for a cook. Just now an old Indian nurse would have been very serviceable. Once he roused himself from his pain and suffering, cursing with true Indian passion. “Look if the girl and the child are safe,” he commanded in threatening tones. They had fared very well in the storm. Both they and the shelter had taken no harm. Valbonais had gathered a sack of provisions and taken it down below the camp some distance, leaving it there with the gun. He had been very helpful all the morning, and his brief absence had not been noted. At noon the rain ceased, though it was nearly an hour before the sun came out. Dinner was eaten, the boats were dragged up so as to be within sight, and two or three of the Indians were kept busy about their master. Two of the prisoners had been killed and one Indian. Black Feather ordered them buried. Valbonais came to the door of the tent.