croak!” Though warned, I believed that it was really a frog close to me. It was followed by a click as if caused by the cocking of the rifles. The Sioux one and all started and looked round. Their quick ears had detected the sound. There was another low croak, and at the same instant a rattling volley, and fourteen savages lay stretched on the grass. The rest rushed in all directions seeking for shelter, but in their alarm, scarcely perceiving whence the volley had proceeded, some darted towards the bank of the stream, where my friends still lay concealed rapidly reloading their rifles. Scarcely had the smoke cleared off than I saw through it a savage darting towards Malcolm with uplifted knife, resolved apparently, before he died, to plunge it in his bosom. I shrieked out, and sprang forward to throw myself between them. The savage saw me, and was about to vent his rage on my head, but at the moment his gleaming knife was uplifted to strike, a bullet struck him, fired from Sigenok’s rifle, and he fell within a foot of me, in vain endeavouring to reach me with his weapon. I sprang to my brother’s side, he was unhurt, my knife was busily employed in cutting through the thongs which bound him. More shots were heard as my Ojibway friends caught sight of their Sioux foes endeavouring to escape. A few of the latter had, however, got to some distance and were trying to catch their horses, on which their only hope of safety now depended. The object of the Ojibways was, of course, to prevent them, lest they should carry the news of what had happened to their tribe, who would, in their turn, send off another war party in pursuit of us.

The approach of our horses was now heard. Sigenok with a dozen other men threw themselves on their backs almost without stopping them, and galloped off in hot pursuit of their flying enemies. I stood by the side of my brother, who was too much bewildered to understand what had happened. His first words were, “Harry, dear Harry, tell me is it a dream or a reality. Am I really free?”

“Free, Malcolm, I trust,” I answered; “though I might almost ask you the same question; I can scarcely believe my happiness.”

“Now I take your hand and hear your voice, I know that it is true,” he said eagerly. “And that poor savage who lies so helpless there, I thought he was going to kill me; but I have been mercifully protected; I will tell you all about it by and by. Oh what a dreadful state of existence is this wild life; we will quit it, and return to our quiet home and never leave that. I had often read about savages, and thought them very fine fellows, but little knew what they really are—how bloodthirsty, cruel, murderous. Let us fly, 

 Prev. P 22/149 next