"You've come too late," were the Engineer officer's first words. He pointed to a group of prisoners, Indian and white, who, under the guard of an armed picket, were making themselves comfortable for the night. "We've had a heavy day, though," continued Colonel Moody; "and three of my fellows have been badly wounded. Your men pretty fresh, I suppose?" "Quite, sir." "Give them half an hour for supper, and then I shall want you to march them about ten miles across country. I have guides ready for you. Come and have something to eat, and I'll tell you all about it." The Colonel, a subaltern, and a regimental surgeon had established themselves in a miner's hut, and here, over a very unconventional meal, Mayne learned what had happened. Scarcely had the soldiers put an end to the rioting, when six Chippewyan Indians had galloped into the camp. The miners at the next claim had fired on them, they said; had threatened to burn their winter fodder-stacks, and meant to drive them out of their old settlement. "Of course, we've only heard one side," concluded Colonel Moody. "Don't trust your guides too far, Mr. Mayne. Let one of them keep his horse, in case you want to send me a message in a hurry, and make the other five march between your men; they can leave their horses here." He turned to the surgeon. "You'd better go, too, Campbell; you may be wanted. They've a very good doctor here if we need him. Good-bye, and good luck to you both." The doctor buckled on his sword and Mayne collected the sailors, placing five of the Indians in the centre, and all set off at a brisk step. The mounted redskin led them some miles along a curving valley and then across an open tract of country, whence they were soon able to see the lights from some settlement. "Is that the place?" the lieutenant asked of a redskin who spoke intelligible English. "Yes; we have but four miles to go now." "There seems to be plenty of light in the place; how is that?" The Indian did not reply, but spoke in his own language to his neighbour. "You don't understand them, do you?" said Campbell in a low voice. "More do I, worse luck. They seem to be very proud of themselves all at once. If I were you, I'd have an answer out of that chap." The lieutenant laid his hand sharply on the redskin's naked shoulder. "Answer the question, my friend. We don't want all that mumbling and whispering." The man remained sulkily silent, but the Chippewyan to whom he had spoken, a brighter, more intelligent fellow, said: "We are pleased because our warriors have come down from the mountains, and are burning the town." "Your warriors'll get hurt, if that's their game," said Mayne; and for a while nothing more was said. But as they came nearer to the lights, the Indians all began talking at the top of their voices, and Mayne was obliged to call for silence. Presently the mounted redskin stopped his horse, and a halt was called.