iring after two they concluded that
terms of surrender had been made. They had meant to wander deeper
and deeper into the forest, out of reach of possible peril from
prowling Indians; but they had been unable to tear themselves away
without learning more of the fate of the hapless fort and its
garrison.

At daybreak--or rather with the, first grey of dawn--they had
crept through the brushwood as stealthily as Indians themselves,
only to be made aware shortly that something horrible and terrible
was going on. Yells and war whoops and the screech of Indian voices
rose and clamoured through the silence of the forest, mingled with
the shrieks of victims brutally massacred, and the shouts and
entreaties of the French officers, who ran hither and thither
seeking to restrain the brutal and savage treachery of their
unworthy allies.

Roche had lost his head, and would have rushed madly upon the scene
of bloodshed and confusion; and Fritz must needs have followed, for
he was not one to let a comrade go to his death alone: but before
they had proceeded far, they met their comrade Pringle dashing
through the forest, covered with wounds, and pursued by half a
dozen screeching Indians, and in a moment they had sprung to his
rescue.

With a yell as fierce in its way as that of the Indians themselves
they sprang upon the painted savages, and taking them unawares,
they killed every one before the dusky and drunken sons of the
forest had recovered from their surprise at being thus met and
opposed.

But plainly there was no time to lose. The forest was ringing with
the awful war whoop. Their comrade was in no state for further
fighting; he was almost too far gone even for flight.

They seized him one by each arm; they dashed along through the
tangled forest by an unfrequented track known to Fritz, half
leading, half carrying him the while. The din and the horrid
clamour grew fainter in their ears. No pursuing footsteps gave them
cause to pause to defend themselves. The centre of excitement round
the fort drew the human wolves, as carrion draws vultures. The
forest was dim and silent and deserted as the fugitives pursued
their way through it.

From time to time the wounded man dropped some words full of horror
and despair. Young Roche, new to these fearful border wars, was
almost overcome by this broken narrative, realizing the fearful
fate which had overtaken so many of his brave comrades of the past
weeks.

When at last the