sed traps in the neighbourhood of
the wigwams, over which she could watch. She never failed to have a
good supper prepared for the hunters on their return home in the
evening. She was one evening employed as usual, now lulling her little
girl to sleep as the infant lay in its hammock in the wigwam, now
attending to the simmering caldron, her quick ear ever on the watch for
the footstep of her husband. Suddenly she started. "That is not
Pierre's footstep," she muttered; "it is that of a stranger--no; it is
Michel's. Alas! he is wounded."

Her fears were not unfounded. In another minute, Michel, one of the
hunters, staggered into her hut, fearfully wounded. No sooner had he
entered, than he sank on the ground gasping for breath.

"Fly!" he said; "they are both dead--your husband and Thomas. The
Blackfleet have done it. Take the horses--ride direct to McDonald's
fort--tell him--Oh! this pain! water, good Kamela!"

Before, however, the water reached his lips, the faithful hunter, who
had thus exerted his last remaining strength to save, if possible, the
life of his friend's wife and children, fell back, and died.

Kamela lost not a moment in giving way to unavailing grief. Michel's
condition too fearfully corroborated his account to allow her to doubt
it. Hurrying out, she caught with much difficulty two of the horses;
putting a pack on one and a saddle on the other, she loaded the first
with her blankets and two buffalo-robes, with some dried salmon and
beaver-flesh and flour, and on the other she mounted with her boy before
her and little Kamela at her back, and set off at a rapid rate in the
direction of McDonald's fort.

She rode as she had never before ridden, scarcely daring to look behind
lest she should see some of her dreaded enemies in pursuit. Not for
herself did she fear--he that had bound her to earth was gone--but she
feared for her beloved little ones, who might fall into the hands of her
remorseless foes. Night was rapidly drawing on. The ground was covered
with snow. It was bitterly cold; but she was afraid to light a fire,
lest it might betray her to those who she was persuaded would be on the
search for her. With her axe she quickly cut some boughs and stripped
off sufficient bark to form a shelter, and wrapping herself and her
children in the blankets she had brought, and tethering the horses close
to her, she lay down to wait till morning light should enable her to
pursue her journe