Quesnelle had vanished mysteriously into the
night.

"Rory," asked Pasmore a little later, when the team of
spirited horses was bowling merrily along the by-trail,
"was it you who fired that shot to-day and saved my life?"

"Young man," said Rory, solemnly, "hev yer got sich a
thing about yer as a match--me poipe's gone out?"

And Pasmore knew that, so far as Rory was concerned, the
subject was closed.

Next day about noon the two were to the north of the
valley, where lay the ranche. On rounding a bluff they
came unexpectedly upon three Indians in sleighs, who had
evidently just cut the trail.

"Child-of-Light!" they cried, recognising the foremost.

A wave of apprehension swept over Pasmore when he saw
the inscrutable expression on the face of the friendly
chief. Was it well with the rancher and his daughter?

"Ough, ough!" ejaculated Child-of-Light, wonderingly, as
he caught sight of Pasmore. He pulled up, jumped out of
his sleigh, and shook hands cordially. "Child-of-Light's
heart lightens again to see you, brother," he said. "His
heart was heavy because he thought Poundmaker must have
stilled yours."

"Child-of-Light is ever a friend," rejoined Pasmore.
"But what of Douglas and the others?"

Then Child-of-Light told him how on the previous morning
Douglas and his daughter had reached the ranche. But as
Poundmaker's men were hovering in great strength in the
neighbourhood, he, Child-of-Light, had deemed it advisable
that they should take fresh horses and proceed in an
easterly direction towards Fort Pitt, and then in a
northerly, until they came to that secluded valley of
which he had previously told them. They had done this,
and gone on with hardly a pause.

In the meantime Child-of-Light had sent some of his braves
to run off the rancher's herd of horses to a remote part
of the country, where they would be safe from the enemy,
while he and one or two others remained behind to cover
his retreat. But alarming news had just been brought him
by a runner. Big Bear had perpetrated a terrible massacre
at Frog Lake, near Fort Pitt. Ten persons had been shot
in the church, and two brave priests, Fathers Farfand
and Marchand, had been beaten to death. If Douglas and
the others kept on they must run right into their hands.
It was to catch them up, if possible, and fetch them back
before they crossed the Saskatchewan, that Child-of-Light
was on his way now. Better to fall into the hands of
Poundmaker and h