nsuspecting aught of harm,
two priests of the settlement, Oblat Fathers, named Fafard
and La Marchand, were the first at the spot.

"What a gloomy day," Pere Fafard said, "and this lodge
set here in this desolate spot seems to make it more
gloomy still. What, I wonder, is the nature of the
business?" Then they knocked, and the voice of the chief
was heard to say,

"Entrez." Opening the door, the two good priests
walked in, and turned to look for seats. Ah! what was
the sight presented to them! Eyes like those of wild
beasts, aflame with hate and ferocity, gleamed at them
from the gloom of the back portion of the room. The
priests were amazed. They knew not what all this meant.
Then a wild shriek was given, and the chief cried, "Enemies
to the red man, you have come to your doom." Then raising
his rifle, he fired at Father Marchand. The levelling of
his rifle was the general signal. A dozen other muzzles
were pointed, and in a far briefer space of time than it
takes to relate it, the two priests lay weltering in
their blood, pierced each by half a dozen bullets.

"Clear away these corpses," shouted the chief, "and be
ready for the next." There was soon another knock at the
door, and the same wolfish voice replied as before,
saying,

"Entrez." This time a full, manly-looking young fellow,
named Charles Gowan, opened the door and entered. Always
on the alert for Indian treachery, he had his suspicion
now, before entering he suspected strongly that all was
not right. He had only reached the settlement that morning,
and had he returned sooner he would have counselled the
settlers to pay no heed to the invitation. He was assured
that several had already gone up to the pow-wow, so being
brave and unselfish, he said,

"If there is any danger afoot, and my friends are at the
meeting-lodge, that is the place for me, not here." He
had no sooner entered than his worst convictions were
realized. With one quick glance he saw the bloodpools,
the wolfish eyes, the rows of ready rifles.

"Hell hounds!" he cried, "what bloody work have you on
hand? What means this?" pointing to the floor.

"It means," replied the chief, "that some of your pale-face
brethren have been losing their heart's blood there. It
also means that the same fate awaits you." Resolved to
sell his life as dearly as lay in his power, he sprang
forward with a Colt's revolver, and discharged it twice.
One Indian fell, and another set up a cry like the
bel