As Dave was rising a form appeared before him, and an instant later he was confronted by Flat Nose. The Indian came forward before the young pioneer could think of withdrawing. "White young man here!" cried Flat Nose softly. And he followed this with the call of a night-bird, thrice repeated. "I want nothing of you!" exclaimed Dave, and started to retreat, when Flat Nose caught him by the arm. But Dave struck out with the hunting knife, and the Indian fell back with a wound in his shoulder. Before he could recover, the young pioneer was running off as swiftly as his hurt knee would permit. In a moment more Dave heard, not only Flat Nose, but also several others in pursuit. A call reached him in the voice of Jean Bevoir, but to this he paid no attention. He knew that his only safety lay in escape. But while he was running from Flat Nose and Jean Bevoir he was making directly towards Jacques Valette, and in less than a minute the two came face to face. Valette had his gun handy and the moment the young pioneer appeared he raised the weapon. "Stop!" he roared. "Stop, or I shoot!" "Do not let him escape!" cried Jean Bevoir, in French. "I have him safe enough," came from Valette. Covered by a gun in the hands of such a villain as Jacques Valette, Dave did not know what to do. The fellow looked ready to shoot, and even anxious to pull the trigger. While he was meditating, Jean Bevoir, Flat Nose, and several Indians of the Wanderers' tribe came up. The young pioneer was immediately surrounded, and Flat Nose caught him around the breast from the rear, pinning his arms to his side. The hunting knife was taken from him, and he realized at once that further resistance would be useless. "Ha! so you think to escape, not so?" sneered Jean Bevoir. "I was afraid it would be so. But now you are my prisonair, ha! ha!" "What are you going to do with me?" asked Dave, as calmly as he could, but with a sinking heart. "You will learn that later, Dave Morris." "You said you would take me back to my father's trading-post." "Did you believe zat? Ha! ha! you are a leetle fool! I shall take you to the west, far away, _oui_! Then your father shall come to terms, not so? He will do anything to geet back his only son." Like a flash the full realization of Jean Bevoir's plot forced itself upon the young pioneer. He was truly in the hands of the enemy, and it was safe to say that Bevoir would not treat him any better than had Pontiac, if as well. "Supposing I won't go with you?" he said. "You shall go with us," replied Jean Bevoir. "You are my prisonair and must do as I say. Jacques, bring up the horses." Valette turned away to do as bidden. As he did so there came a shout from a distance, followed by a peculiar Indian-cry, telling all in the village that the white captive had escaped. "We must be quick!" said Bevoir, in French. "There is not a moment to spare."