close now, and the figures of the Indians were
plainly discernible. Many were lying sprawled upon the ground, while
others leaped and danced in the red flare of the flames. At frequent
intervals, above the sound of the frenzied shouts and weird chants,
arose the sharp rattle of shots, as the Indians fired recklessly into
the air.

At a signal from Lapierre the canoemen ceased paddling. Chloe's eyes
flashed an inquiry, and Lapierre shook his head.

"We can venture no closer," he explained. "At such times their
deviltry knows no bounds. They would make short shrift of anyone who
would venture among them this night."

Chloe nodded. "I have no wish to go farther!" she cried. "I have seen
enough, and more than enough! When this night's work shall become
known in Ottawa, its echo shall ring from Labrador to the Yukon until
throughout all Canada the name of MacNair shall be hated and despised!"

At the words, Lapierre glanced into her flushed face, and, removing his
hat, bowed reverently. "God grant that your prophecy may be fulfilled.
And I speak, not because of any hatred for MacNair, but from a heart
overflowing with love and compassion for my people. For their welfare,
it is my earnest prayer that this man's just punishment shall not long
be delayed."

While he was yet speaking, from the midst of the turmoil red flames
shot high into the air. The yelling increased tenfold, and the
frenzied horde surged toward the walls of the stockade. The cabins of
the Indians were burning! Wider and higher flared the fire, and louder
and fiercer swelled the sounds of yelling and the firing of rifles.
The walls of the stockade ignited. The fire was eating its way toward
the long, log storehouse. Instantly through the girl's mind flashed
the memory of that other night when the sky glowed red, and the crash
of rifles mingled with the hoarse roar of flames. She gazed in
fascination as the fire licked and curled above the roof of the
storehouse. Upon the shore, even the canoes were burning.

Suddenly a wild shriek was borne to her ears. The firing of guns
ceased abruptly, and around the corner of the burning storehouse dashed
a figure of terror, hatless and coatless, with long hair streaming
wildly in the firelight. Tall, broad, and gaunt it appeared in the
light of the flaring flames, and instantly Chloe recognized the form of
Bob MacNair. Lapierre also recognized it, and gasped audibly. For at
that moment he kne