im
to the shop, making sure first that the bar was in place.

"'Let us have the white man,' he said to McLeod. 'Let the peace
between us continue.'

"McLeod perceived the threat. He was not a rash man. He had no wish to
provoke a conflict, but he had no thought of surrendering the refugee.
As for me, my trust was in the stockade.

"'I will talk with the white man,' he said.

"The factor was gone for half an hour. He secreted Landley, inspected
the defenses, gathered the women and children in the blockhouse, and
returned to the council.

"'The white man is not blood-guilty,' he said, proudly. 'I have
promised him protection and he shall have it.'

"Again the helper came. 'There is another knock at the gate,' said
he.

"'Who is there?' said McLeod.

"'It's so dark I can't see,' said the helper.

"'The man is my cousin,' said Red Feather. 'He has come to talk with
us. Let him in, for he is a wise man and may help us.'

"'Open the gate,' said McLeod.

"We sat silent, waiting for the cousin of Red Feather, the wise man
who might help us. I heard the rattle of the bar as the helper lifted
it, then the creak of the gate. Then a furious outcry, a confusion of
howls and screams, a war-whoop and a rush of feet. The Indians were
within the stockade. A moment later they burst into the shop and
advanced upon us, uttering blood-curdling whoops and brandishing their
hatchets and knives. McLeod reached for the musket above the desk, but
before his fingers touched it Red Feather caught him by the arms, and
with the help of the brother made him prisoner. At the same instant I
was secured.

"'Let us strike! Let us strike!' the Indians kept shouting, all the
while dancing about us, flourishing their weapons.

"The danger was real and terrible. We were at the mercy of the band,
and at that moment I did not doubt that they were bent on murder and
pillage. There had been a cruel massacre at Fort Pine but a few months
before. The story was fresh in my mind. That crime had gone
unpunished; nor was it likely that a sufficient force would be sent
west to give the band their due. There was nothing now to deter Red
Feather's men from committing a similar outrage. We were remote from
our kind, on the edge of a wilderness into which escape was a simple
matter. Our guns, as I have said, had been our law and defense, and we
were now utterly in the power of our enemies.

"'Let us strike! Let us strike!' was the cry.

"Buffalo Horn h