CHAPTER VI.
A DARING RESCUE.
When they awoke the sun was up, the mists had rolled out of thehollow, and every bush and blade of grass glittered as if set indiamonds. Hard by the tent ran a little brook, leaping, rushing,eddying, gurgling, sparkling down the incline, to join the largerstream whose slow moaning had sounded so terrible in the fog and dark.
"It is full of fish," gleefully exclaimed Julie; and casting a fly(for they had not come without tackle), she soon landed a trout abouta pound weight. It was a blending of pink and silver on the belly,and was mottled with dots of brown. "One apiece," she cried, asanother beauty curled and leaped upon the grass, by one of Annette'sdeftly booted little feet.
The kit supplied two or three flat pans that could be stowedconveniently; and into one of these the fish were put.
"Now, Julie, while you prepare the breakfast, I shall go and take alook at how things stand in the next camp."
She crept noiselessly through bush and brake, and perceived the bandjust making ready for a start. Captain Stephens was put upon a horsein the centre of the cavalcade, and his companion, pale andblood-stained, rode next behind.
Annette and Julie cautiously followed, drawing close to the partywhen it rode through the bush, but keeping far in the rear when thecourse lay over the plain. Towards the set of sun, they observed ahorseman about a mile behind them, riding at high speed. They waitedtill the man drew near, and perceived that he was a Cree Indian.
"Message from Little Poplar," the brave said, as he reined in hissplashed and foam-flecked pony, "The Great Chief rages againstmademoiselle, and has braves searching for her through every part ofthe territory." Producing a paper, he handed it to Annette. Upon itwere written in bold letters the following:
PROCLAMATION.
Any one bringing to my presence a young person, disguised as a Creespy, and riding a large gray mare, will receive a reward of $500.This spy and traitor is usually accompanied by another person ofsmaller stature, and also disguised as a Cree boy. Rides a blackgelding. These traitors have heard our secret counsels as friends,and have gone and disclosed our plans to the enemy. They gave warningof our approach to a band of government officers; they procured theescape of the oppressors from Fort Pitt; and they turned away BigBear and his braves from pursuit of the fugitives, by lies. Our firstduty is to capture them. No injury is to be done to the chiefoffender, who is to be immediately brought to my presence.
LOUIS DAVID RIEL.
"Tell your brave chief, mon ami," Annette said, "that we shall takecare to avoid the followers of le grand chef, and of unfriendlyIndians."
The Indian turned his pony, and was about retracing his steps, whenJulie rode up to him, and in her exquisitely timid little way, saidin a soft voice,
"Faites mes amities a monsieur, votre chef." The Indian replied,"Oui, oui," and urged his pony to the height of its speed. When Juliejoined her mistress there was a little rose in each cheek, and agleam in her faintly humid eye.
"Sending a message to her chief?" Annette said, looking at thebright, brown beauty. "She need not have blushed at giving hermessage to the brave; he thought that she was an Indian lad."
"Oh, I forgot," Julie murmured; and she pressed her deftly bootedfeet against the flanks of her pony.
The savage was, evidently, not enamoured of the lonesome journeyback to his chief, for rumour had peopled every square mile of allthe plains with warriors, and with hidden assassins. And spreadacross that arc of the sky where the sun had just gone down, weretroops of clouds, of crimson, and bronze and pink; and in theircurious shapes the solitary rider saw mighty horses, bestrode bygiant riders, all congregated to join in the war. He knew that thesewere the spirits of chiefs who had ruled the plains long before thestranger with the pale face came; they always assembled when greatbattles were to be fought; and when their brothers began to loseheart in the fray, they would descend from the clouds and give toeach warrior the heart of the lion, and the arm of the jaguar.
His heart swelled with a wild war-fever as these thoughts passedthrough his brain. Then the darkness began to creep over the plains;it came softly and as remorselessly as the prairie panther; and afear grew upon the savage. The horsemen in the sky had come nearer tothe earth; some of them had trooped across through the dusk, tillthey stood directly above his head; and he fancied that several ofthe figures had lowered themselves down till they almost touched him.In the deepening dusk he could not observe what they were doing. Theyat last actually reached the earth;--and three giants stood beforehis horse.
"Mon Dieu," shrieked the terrified creature, and his hand lostcontrol over the reins. His pony did not heed the spectres, butwalked straight on. Nay, he passed so close to one of the dreadthings that the Indian's arm brushed the goblin. Its touch was hard.The man shrieked, and in a terror that stopped the beating of hisheart fell to the ground. When he arose, he found that the spectrewas not from the sky; but only a tall prairie poplar.
Pray, readers, do not laugh at the unreasonable terror of thisuntutored savage. I have seen some of yourselves just as unreasonable.
While the Indian was suffering the sunset clouds to fill him, nowwith enthusiasm, and again with dread, Annette and Julie were keepingtheir ponies at their fleetest pace to regain sight of the party.
"Do you know, Julie, I feel a presentiment that an opportunity forthe rescue will come to-night. The captors will not dream of pursuitso far from the frequented grounds and known trails, and they will beoff their guard. See! yonder they camp;" and while she was yetspeaking, a pyramid of scarlet flame, scattering showers of sparks,shot up from a recess in the bluff lying directly before them.
"Rein in, Julie, we must find a bluff a safe distance off for ourhorses. Should they get scent or sight of the ponies in yonder camp,and whinny, all would be lost."
So swerving to the left, and taking a course at right angles totheir late one, they rode slowly and silently till a bluff rose fromthe prairie, a short distance in front, like a hill.
"We shall tether our horses here, Julie; but I believe our stay willnot be a long one." And the pair dismounted, tied their tired beasts,and swiftly raised the white sides of their tent.
"Ee-e-e-e!" it was Julie who gave the shriek. The thicket wasswarming with soft, noiseless wings, and a bird with burning eyes hadbrushed the face of the maiden with its pinion. "What is it, mamaitresse? It has two bright eyes, and it touched my face. Ee-e-e. O!There it is again."
"What is the matter, Julie? Do you want to bring Jean and hisIndians here, with this pretty screaming of yours?"
"But it brushed me in the face twice, mademoiselle."
"These are only night hawks, Julie; they gather sometimes like thisin our own poplar-grove."
"O-o that's what it was? Pardonnez-moi. What a simpleton I am, mymistress. Do you think they heard me?" and her sweet voice was now solow, that the locust, dozing among the spray of the golden-rod, couldscarcely have heard her tones. The thicket was literally swarmingwith these noiseless birds; and wondering they flew round and roundthe figures of the intruders, but most of all did they marvel at thegreat mound of white that had been raised amongst them. Some of them,in alarm, rose high above the bluff, wheeling and darting hither andthither, and the girls could hear their c-h-u-n-g as if some hand,high up in the air, had smote the bass chord of a violoncello. Butwhen the flame from the camp fire arose, terror seized everyfeathered thing in the bluff, and they all flew, in wild haste, awayfrom the bewildering light.
Annette was now away wandering through the grove, gathering dry andfallen limbs for the fire; and as Julie bustled about through thelong prairie grass, preparing the meal, she was startled with alittle cry.
"Mon Dieu, what is it?" Julie hastened away to her mistress, herbright eyes widened and gleaming with alarm.
"What has happened my mistress?"
"Oh! is that all it is? Why Julie, I am just as silly as you are. Istooped to pick up what I thought a little bramble, but when I laidmy hand upon it, it moved
; and then went under the ground. It was agopher. I am now rebuked for chiding the fears of my little maid."
"But anybody would scream at touching a live thing like that on theground. It was foolish, though, to be frightened at a bird."
Generous, sweet little Julie!
They now busied themselves with their supper, brewing some tea in ashallow pan; and when they had spread their store of provisions theysat down by the side of the fire, and ate their meal of home-madebread and cold meat. It would have gladdened the heart of the mostwithered monk to see those two healthy, plump little maidens in theflickering fire light, their garments loosened, their eyes glowing,their cheeks and lips in hue like the cherry, eating slice afterslice of bread and meat, and draining cup after cup of the fragranttea.
"Now Julie," Annette said rising, after the precious maiden hadeaten enough to make some miserable philosopher ill for a week ofdyspepsia, "I shall creep out and make a reconnaissance." Andbuckling on her belt, with its large bright-bladed knife, and herready revolver, she went away softly and cunning as a cat. The veryfield-mouse could have known nothing of her coming till her sweetfoot was upon its head: and when she came in sight of the hostilecamp fire with the dull scarlet glow that the mass of dying embersthrew out, she stooped so low that a spectator near by would haveimagined that the dark thing moving across the level was a prairiedog.
At last she was at the very edge of the bluff, and was peeringbetween the branches at the party, about the flight of an arrowwithin. Captain Stephens was there, full in the light, his arms andlegs fast bound, and tied to a sturdy white oak tree. Near a poplar,a few paces distant, lay his comrade, likewise bound and fastened toa tree. Most of the Indians were asleep; the remainder lolled about,showing no evidence of keeping vigil. Jean she could not perceive;and she believed, and was no doubt right, that he was sleeping.
"It is well," the maiden ejaculated in a little whisper; and shereturned swiftly and noiselessly as a shadow to her own camp fire.
"Most of them sleep; and presently there will not be an open eyeamong the braves. Ah, Julie, if you but saw how they have _him_bound--both of the captives, I mean." And her eyes flashed, while herhand made a little blind, convulsive motion toward her pistol. "Wehave no time now to waste; help me to pack." In the space of a fewminutes everything was ready for a start, and the horses led away toanother bluff which loomed up about five hundred yards distant. Juliecould not divine the reason for this precaution, but Annettewhispered,
"Child, the light of our fire might, at the first moment of flightlead to recapture, should any of my plans fail; and it would take usa half an hour to extinguish the embers by fetching water in ourlittle pans."
Yes, Julie saw a little of what her mistress was aiming at; andreposed perfect trust in Annette's ability to do everything withskill and success. The beasts were tethered, and dark as was thatprairie night, these two girls with skill as unerring as the instinctof a pair of night-hawks could come back and find them. Then theystruck out through the long grass, and made for the bluff where laythe Stonies and their prisoners.
"Now, if we can find their ponies!" Annette said.
"Wherefore look for their ponies, mademoiselle?"
"You soon shall see. Ah, here they are; stay you there, Julie, Iwill come to you again presently." But Julie followed her mistress. Alittle shudder passed through her heart as she saw the dull glitterof something in her mistress' hand.
"I don't like to do this cruel thing; but then I spill only bruteblood; and I do so to save the shedding of human blood." Julie nowsurmised what her mistress was about; and drew her own knife. Annettehad already passed from one of the ponies, after pausing for a fewseconds stooped by its hinder legs, to another; and with the knifestill gleaming in her hand, performed upon the second beast what shehad done to the first.
"You just cut the tendons of the hinder legs, I suppose,mademoiselle?" Julie enquired in a whisper.
"What, are you at work too, Julie?"
"Oui mademoiselle; I have cut yonder one, and yon;" and she dartedaway to continue the work of mutilation. In a few minutes the uncannytask was ended, and with a shudder at their hearts the girls wipedtheir knives and led away from the flock of lamed and bleeding beaststhe horses of Captain Stephens and his brother captive. These theytethered beside their own, and again returned. They then proceededwith noiseless tread towards the hostile camp.
The fire had burnt lower, but the glow was still strong enough toreveal the condition of the camp. After Annette had counted everyIndian, and convinced herself that one and all were soundly sleeping,and that Jean in his tent was the deepest slumberer of all, shewhispered softly.
"Remain you here, Julie. Should I be discovered fly instantly andtake horse. Don't tarry for me. Peace, ma petite amie; I go."
And softly as sleep she went away, and in among the trees till shestood within a pace of where her deliverer lay. He had been on theborder land that divides the world from the realm of dreams; butthrough the wavering senses of his eye and ear, he was sensible ofthe faintest stir among the leaves, of a shadow moving near him.Instantly his eyes were wide open; and the dull glow of the embersrevealed standing above him with his finger on his lips, the figureof the beautiful Indian boy who had saved his life before. The nextmoment, the boy is leaning over him; in another moment his bonds aresevered, and he is free.
"Go," whispered the boy, pointing toward the bluff; "no noise."These words were as low and as fine as the little whisper that youhear among the leaves of the alder when a faint wind comes out of thewest on a summer's evening and moves them. And while he yet remainedbewildered by the suddenness of the boy's appearance, his owndeliverance, and the order that had been given to him, he perceivedthe lad stooping over his companion in captivity, and severing thethongs that bound him. Stephens now moved hastily away a shortdistance, and then turned. The captive was upon his feet, and hisdeliverer was beside him; but at the same moment he saw a tall savagebound to his feet, with hatchet uplifted, and make towards the two.At the same time he uttered the fierce alarum-yell of the Stoneytribe.
"Fly!" shouted the Indian boy to the white. "Away!" and then heturned to face the approaching foe. The savage came on, and when, asit seemed to Stephens, his hatchet was about to cleave the boy'sskull, there was a pistol report, and the Indian fell with aconvulsive toss of his arms. This was accomplished in the space of acouple of heart-beats; but the time was long enough to bring Jean andthe entire party to their feet.
"Fly!" repeated the Indian boy, and he bounded swiftly out of thebluff, joining Stephens, his companion and Julie, who all four nowled off across the dark prairie towards the horses.
"Ought we not get our horses," Stephens enquired in a low hurriedtone, for the noise of the pursuit from the camp was close, andtumultuous as a broken bedlam.
"You will get your horses, Monsieur," Annette replied, and CaptainStephens implicitly relied upon the word of the beautiful youth. Thegrass upon the prairie was thick and high, and in some places lay inheavy tangles, making slow the progress of the refugees; but theywere able to keep their distance ahead of the Indians, who withflaring flambeaux were following their trail like bloodhounds. Out ofthe darkness came a series of sharp whinnies, and the next momentthey found themselves among the horses. The beasts were ready formounting, and without delay or bungle, the party were instantly inthe saddles and cantering briskly across the prairie. As they rodealong cries of baffled rage came to their ears; and they knew thatthe Indians had discovered the plight of their ponies.
But when they had ridden beyond the sound of the enemies' voices,they slacked their pace, and Captain Stephens said,
"Brave lad, is it your intention to ride all night?"
"No, Monsieur; I purpose resting at the first suitable place, tillmoon-rise. It is not safe for our horses' legs travelling among thegopher-burrows in the dark. At any rate Monsieur le Capitaine and hiscompanion must be hungry."
"During my captivity I have eaten nothing save a piece of an elk'sheart
raw; and I do not believe that Phillips has taken anything."
The truth is that Phillips had been severely wounded; and besidesseveral shot wounds in his side, his left arm was at this moment in asling, having been nigh severed from his body with a hatchet blow.
"No, I have not eaten; and I think it was as well while the fever ofmy wounds was upon me."
"But," continued Captain Stephens, "I am most anxious to rest that Imay hear how came you, my brave lad, and your heroic companion, toget knowledge of our capture; how it is that fate seems to havesingled you out to be my constant guardian-angel and deliverer. Itrust that you will not refuse the explanations as you did on aformer occasion. A man who has been thrice rescued from probabledeath, has good excuse for seeking to know all about the person whohas delivered him."
"I would much rather that Monsieur did not press me upon the point,"the boy replied in a low voice.
"But I will, my heroic lad. I believe that we met somewhere beforeunder different circumstances; for several times I have noticed afamiliar accent in your voice."
"It is only a delusion, Monsieur," she replied in the same low tone."But, here is a bluff wherein we shall be likely to find some placeto rest for a little;" and turning her horse, she led the way along agrassy lane which seemed, in the night, as regular as if it had beenfashioned with human hands. As she halted and while her hand lay uponher horse's neck, she said:
"I have a tent which I regret I cannot offer to share with you; butwe can prepare a comfortable supper upon the grass; and you can restcosily in the warmth of the fire." With these words she dismounted.
In a few minutes the white of the tent loomed through the dusk; andpresently a fire was roaring and scattering about a spray of scarletsparks.
Annette had some moments with Julie in the tent, while Stephens wasbusy making a comfortable resting-place for his wounded companion.
"Julie, I cannot longer keep this secret; when we have eaten, Ishall tell him. But oh! I think it will nearly kill me to do it. I amso ashamed; our dress, you know, Julie." And by the dull glimmer ofthe camp-fire Julie could see that her mistress' face was like afreshly-blown carnation.
"I would not mind telling mon chef, ma maitresse; Monsieur Stephenswill prize you all the more for your bravery. And then it is sobecoming;" and this sweetest of maids looked admiringly at theexquisite curves and grace of outline in her mistress. And she cameto her softly as a mouse, taking the still blushing face into herbrown hands, and looking lovingly into the luminous eyes.
"Ah Julie, your chief, or our own Metis, might admire us in thiscostume, but the ladies of Captain Stephens' acquaintance wouldshrink from doing that in which we see naught amiss. He may think itindelicate and--." Once more the blood came stinging with a thousandsharp points in her temples; but Julie interposed:
"Nay, mademoiselle; if you have done anything unlike what whiteladies do, it was for the sake of Captain Stephens; and if you didnot adopt disguise, you could not have saved him."
"True, sweet Julie; you fill me with courage;" and then she setabout preparing the meal.
Captain Stephens was amazed at the deftness with which the youngscout prepared the repast; and he lay upon the grass, with his eyesrivetted upon the nimble, noiseless, graceful lad. It puzzled himthat the mysterious youth should persistently keep his head averted,and he was the more strongly decided to discover his identity. Whenthe meal was ended Annette whispered,
"Julie will come with us; I never could tell him in the light of thefire." Then turning towards Captain Stephens, with eyes lookingtimidly down, "If monsieur will walk forth a little with me and monfrere, I shall tell him something."
Certainly, he would go, and was upon his feet beside the mysteriousboy, whose colour had now become most fitful, changing from paleolive to the dye of the damask rose. They went beyond the bluff, andout upon the prairie, Stephens marvelling much, though speaking noword, what the handsome boy had to say to him.
"Monsieur," she began in a soft, trembling voice, "has wondered whoI am, and thinks he has heard my voice before. He has heard it--atthe cottage of my father."
Captain Stephens turned around and gazed with amazement at the lad.
"He has heard it elsewhere, too," Annette went on--"he heard it onthe brimming river; he saved me from death below the chute."
"Heavens, Annette Marton! Sweet, generous, noble girl, why had I notguessed the truth," and he stood rapt with gratitude and admirationbefore her. Kindly dusk of the starless prairie that hid the blushesand confusion of the girl!
Then in a low tone, as they walked aimlessly about upon the plain,she told him the story of her adventures, all of which my readeralready knows. Then they returned; and when they neared the campfire, Annette with a shy little run disappeared into her tent,murmuring softly,
"Au revoir, Monsieur."
Her dreams were bewildering, yet delicious, that night; but thereran through them all a feeling of shame that he should have detectedher in those unwomanly clothes. Indeed, the embarrassment wentfurther than this; and once she imagined, the dear maiden, that shewas by the edge of an amber-green pool fringed with rowan bushes andtheir vermillion berries, and that as she was about to step into itfor a bath, there occurred what happened in the case of Artemis andher maids, the one upon whom her heart was set taking the place ofActaon. She gave a great scream and awoke, to find Julie sitting upand looking with wide affrighted eyes through the dusk at hermistress.
"Oh, I had such a horrid dream, Julie," and nestling her head uponthe bosom of her maid, she was soon asleep and wandering again inspirit with her lover through the prairie flowers.
They were astir early in the morning, and Annette, as was the habitof the Metis women, had about her shoulders a blanket of Indian redand Prussian blue. [Footnote: It is customary for Metis women, eventhe most coquettish and pretty of them, to wear blankets; and thehideous "fashion" is the chief barbaric trait which they inherit fromtheir wild ancestry. Annette, of course, donned the robe under amental protest. E.C.] Captain Stephens had gone abroad upon theprairie in the morning, and with his pistol shot a pair of chickens.These he handed to Annette as he returned, saying,
"Here my little hero deliverer; and take this, too," handing her atiger lily, moist with dew. "Now, in what way can I assist the Creeboy who has twice saved my life?" and he looked wistfully into theeyes of the brown maiden.
"If monsieur will just sit there upon the grass, petite and myselfwill get the meal;" and straightway she began to pluck and preparethe chickens which Stephens had given her. The sun burned through thecobalt blue of the prairie sky, and there was not anywhere in thegreat, blue dome an atom of cloud. The sun and the rays from the firecombined made the heat unbearable, and Annette with no littleconfusion laid by her blanket. Perceiving her discomfiture, Stephensarose and wandered about the prairie, picking flowers; and onlyreturned in obedience to the call of Julie's little silver whistle.
Very soon, the party was in motion along the trail, Annette leading,Captain Stephens riding in rear beside Phillips, who was againfeverish with his wounds.
They rode till the post meridian sun became too warm, and thenobtaining shelter in a bluff, they lunched and rested for severalhours. They then resumed their march and continued it till the set ofsun. During the day Stephens rode frequently by the side of Annette,but she invariably made her horse mend its pace, and rode alone.Despite his admiring glances, and his deep expressions of gratitude,Stephens gradually began to resume his old playful manner of address.He referred to her as "the little Cree boy," and in speaking of herto Julie or Phillips, always used the word "he." Annette took no heedof this; she led the party through mazes of woodland, acrossstretches where there was no trail, or selected the camping-ground.
"The moon rises to-night about twelve, monsieur," she said toStephens when supper had been ended, "and we had better resume ourmarch then. There is a Cree village not far from here, and the bravesare everywhere abroad. I do not think that travelling by day would besafe; for all the
Indians must have read the proclamation."
About midnight a dusky yellow appeared in the south-east, and thenthe luminous, greenish-yellow rim of the moon appeared and began toflood the illimitable prairie with its wizard light.
"So this miscreant has been hunting you, Annette?" said Stephens,for both had unconsciously dropped in rear. "I suppose, ma petite, ifI had the right to keep you from the fans of the water-mill, that Ialso hold the right of endeavouring to preserve you from a man whosearms would be worse than the rending wheel?" She said nothing, butthere was gratitude enough in her eye to reward one for the mostdaring risk that man ever ran.
"You do not love this sooty persecutor, do you, ma chere?"--andthen, seeing that such a question filled her with pain and shame, hesaid, "Hush now, petite; I shall not tease you any more." Theconfusion passed away, and her olive face brightened, as does themoon when the cloud drifts off its disc.
"I am very glad. Oh, if you only knew how I shudder at the sound ofhis name!"
"There now, let us forget about him," and reining his horse closerto hers, he leaned tenderly towards the girl. She said nothing, forshe was very much confused. But the confusion was less embarrassmentthan a bewildered feeling of delight. Save for the dull thud, thud ofthe hoofs upon the sod, her companion might plainly have heard theriotous beating of the maiden's heart.
"And now, about that flower which I gave you this morning. What didyou do with it?"
"Ah, Monsieur, where were your eyes? I have worn it in my hair allday. It is there now."
"Oh, I see. I am concerned with your head,--not with your heart. Isthat it, ma petite bright eye? You know our white girls wear theflowers we give them under their throats--upon their bosom. This theydo as a sign that the donor occupies a place in their heart."
He did not perceive in the dusky light that he was covering her withconfusion. Upon no point was this maiden so sensitive, as therevelation that a habit or act of hers differed from that of thecivilized girl. Her dear heart was almost bursting with shame, andthis thought was running through her mind.
"What a savage I must seem in his eyes." Her own outspoken wordsseemed to burn through her body. "But how could I know where to wearmy rose? I have read in English books that gentle ladies wear themthere." And these lines of Tennyson [Footnote: I must say here forthe benefit of the drivelling, cantankerous critic, with a squint inhis eye, who never looks for anything good in a piece of writing, butis always in the search for a flaw, that I send passages fromTennyson floating through Annette's brain with good justification.She had received a very fair education at a convent in Red River. Shecould speak and write both French and English with tolerableaccuracy; and she could with her tawny little fingers, produce a truesketch of a prairie tree-clump, upon a sheet of cartridge paper, or apiece of birch rind. I am constrained to make this explanationbecause the passage appeared in another book of mine and evokedcensure from one or two dismal wiseacres.--E.C.] came running throughher head:
"She went by dale, and she went by down, With a single rose _in her hair_."
These gave her some relief, for she thought, after all, that hemight be only jesting. When the blood had gone from her forehead, sheturned towards her lover, who had been looking at her since speaking,with a tender expression in his mischievous eyes.
"Do white girls never wear roses in their hair? I thought they did.Can it be wrong for me to wear mine in the same place?"
"Ah, my little barbarian, you do not understand me. If an ancientbachelor, whose head shone like the moon there in the sky, were togive to some blithe young belle a rose or a lily, she would, mostlikely, twist it in her hair; but if some other person had presentedthe flower, one whose eye was brighter, whose step was quicker, whoselaugh was cheerier, whose years were fewer; in short, ma chereAnnette, if some one for whom she cared just a little more than forany other man that walked over the face of creation, had presented itto her, she would not put it in her hair. No, my unsophisticated one,she would feel about with her unerring fingers, for the spot nearesther heart, and there she would fasten the gift. Now, ma Marie,suppose you had possessed all this information when I gave you theflower, where would you have pinned it?"
"Nobody has ever done so much for me as Monsieur. He leaped into theflood, risking his life to save mine. I would be an ungrateful girl,then, if I did not think more of him than of any other man;therefore, I would have pinned your flower on the spot nearest myheart."
Then, deftly, and before he could determine what her supple arms andnimble brown fingers were about, she had disengaged the lily from herhair, and pinned it upon her bosom.
"There now, Monsieur, is it in the right place?" and she looked athim with a glance exhibiting the most curious commingling of naiveteand coquetry.
"I cannot answer. I do not think that you understand me yet. If theact of saving you from drowning were to determine the place youshould wear the rose, then the head, as you first chose, was theproper spot. Do you know what the word Love means?"
"O, I could guess, perhaps, if I don't know. I have heard a gooddeal about it, and Violette, who is fond of a young Frenchman, hasexplained it so fully to me, that I think I know. Yes, Monsieur, I_do_ know."
"Well, you little rogue, it takes one a long time to find outwhether you do or not. In fact I am not quite satisfied on the point.However, let me suppose that you do know what love is; the all-consumingsort; the kind that sighs like the furnace. Well, supposingthat a flower is worn over the heart only to express love of thissort, where would you, with full knowledge of this fact, have pinnedthe blossom that I plucked for you this morning?"
"Since I do not understand the meaning of the word love with verygreat clearness,--I think Monsieur has expressed the doubt that I dounderstand it--I would not have known where to pin the flower. Iwould not have worn it at all. I would, Monsieur, if home, have setit in a goblet, and taking my stitching, would have gazed upon it allthe day, and prayed my guardian angel to give me some hint as towhere I ought to put it on."
"You little savage, you have eluded me again. Do you remember metelling you that some day, if you found out for me a couple of goodflocks of turkeys, I would bring you some coppers?"
"I do."
"Well, if you discovered a hundred flocks now I would not give youone." And then he leaned towards her again as if his lips yearned forhers. For her part, she took him exactly as she should have done. Shenever pouted;--If she had done so, I fancy that there would have beensoon an end of the boyish, sunny raillery.
"Hallo! Petite, we are away, away in the rear. Set your horse going,for we must keep up with our escort." Away they went over the levelplain, through flowers of every name and dye, the fresh, exquisitebreeze bearing the scent of the myriad petals. After a sharp gallopover about three miles of plain, they overtook the main body of theescort, and all rode together through the glorious night, under thecalm, bountiful moon.
"When this journey is ended we shall rest for a few days at myuncle's, my brave Cree," Stephens said. "Running through the groundsis a little brook swarming with fish. Will you come fishing with methere, petite?"
"Oui, avec grand plaisir, Monsieur."
"Of course, you shall fish with a pin-hook. I am not going to seeyou catch yourself with a barbed hook, like that which I shall use."
"Oh, Monsieur! Why will you always treat me as a baby!" and therewas the most delicate, yet an utterly indescribable, sort of reproachin her voice and attitude, as she spoke these words.
"Then it is not a baby by any means," and he looked with undisguisedadmiration upon the maiden, with all the mystic grace and the perfectdevelopment of her young womanhood. "It is a woman, a perfect littlewoman, a fairer, a sweeter, my own mignonnette, than any girl everseen in these plains in all their history."
"Oh, Monsieur is now gone to the other extreme. He is talkingdangerously; for he will make me vain."
"Does the ceaseless wooing of the sweet wild rose by soft winds,make that blossom vain? or is the moon spoilt because all the
summernight ten thousand streams running under it sing its praises? Aseasy, Annette, to make vain the rose or the moon as to turn your headby telling your perfections."
"Monsieur covers me with confusion!" and the little sweet told thetruth. But it was a confusion very exquisite to her. It was likeentrancing music in her veins; and gave her a delightful deliriumabout the temples. How fair all the glorious great round of thenight, and the broad earth lit by the moon, seemed to her now, withthe music of his words absorbing her body and soul. Everything wastransfigured by a holy beauty, for Love had sanctified it, andclothed it in his own mystic and beautiful garments. It was with poorMarie, then, as it has some time or other been with us all: whenevery bird that sang, every leaf that whispered, had in its tone acadence caught from the one loved voice. I have seen the steeplestrain, and rock, and heard the bells peal out in all theirclangorous melody, and I have fancied that this delirious ecstacy ofsound that bathed the earth and went up to heaven was the voice ofone sweet girl with dimples and sea-green eyes.
The mischievous young Stephens had grown more serious than Annettehad ever seen him before.
"But, my little girl, what is to become of you during this period oftumult. It may continue long, and it is hard to say what the chancesof war may have in store for your father."
"I know not; though my heart is with the cause of my father and ofhis people, yet, I do not desire to see them triumph over yourpeople. A government under the hateful chief would be intolerable;and whenever I can warn the white soldiers of danger, I shall do it."
"What a hero you are Annette! How different from what I supposed onthat day when I saw you sitting in your canoe in the midst of theracing flood."
She was glad that Monsieur held what she had done in such high regard.
"Why dear girl, the story of your bravery will be told by thewriters of books throughout all Christendom. Ah, Annette, I shall beso lonely when you go from me!"
Stephens was all the while growing more serious, and even becomingpathetic, which is a sign of something very delicious, and notuncommon, when you are travelling under a bewitching moon in companywith a more bewitching maiden.
But there was so much mischief in his nature that he would reboundat any moment from a mood of pathos or seriousness to one of levity."Well, Annette," and he leaned yearningly towards her, "when youleave me to take the chances of this tumultuous time, the greatestlight that I have known will have gone out of my life."
"When I am absent from Monsieur, perhaps he never thinks of me."
"What a little ingrate it is! Yesterday morning, while you weregetting breakfast, I was upon the prairie, doing--what think you?"
How was Annette to know?
"Well, I was making verses about ma petite. I was describing hereyes, and her ears, and all her beautiful face."
"Oh, Monsieur!" and again came the blood to her face till her cheeksrivalled the crimson dye of the vetch at their ponies' feat. Then ina little,
"What did Monsieur say about my ears? They are like those of all theMetis girls; and I do not think that they are as pretty as Julie's."
Then he replied with the lines,
"Shells of rosy pink and silver are most like her dainty ears;Shells wherein the fisher maiden the sad Nereid's singing hears."
"Oh, indeed Monsieur, my ears are not at all beautiful like that;indeed they're not." Then slightly changing her tone, "Perhaps lecapitaine made these about some white maiden whose ears _are_, likethat."
"What an ungrateful little creature it is!"
"No, but Monsieur cannot make me believe that my ears resembleshells, coloured in pink and silver. In his heart he is comparing mybrown skin with the snow-white complexions of some of his Caucasiangirls, and thinking how horrid mine is."
"Why, you irreconcilable little wretch, it is your complexion thatmost of all I adore. It is not 'brown;' who told you that it was? Thecolour of your skin I described in these lines, though you do notdeserve that I should repeat them to you:"
"In the sunny, southern orchard fronting on some tawny beach,Exquisite with silky softness hangs the downy silver peach; But asdainty as the beauty of the bloom whereof I speak--Rain, nor sun, norfrost can change it--is the bloom on Annette's cheek."
"Oh, monsieur! I do not know what to say, if you really made theseverses about me. If you did, they are not true; I am sure they arenot;" and her confusion was a most exquisite sight to see.
"But I have not described your eyes yet; here are the two lines thatI made about them:
"Annette's eyes are starlight mingled with the deepest dusk of night;-- Eyes with lustre rich and glorious like some sweet, warm, southern light."
"Oh, no, no, monsieur, they are not true; I don't want you to sayany more of them to me," and she put her hand over her face; for thedear little one's embarrassment was very great.
"That is all I wrote about you; but I may write some more. You say,petite, that they are not true. I confess that they are not--trueenough. Why, sweet, brave, and most lovely of girls, they fall farshort of showing your merits in the full. I have so far tried toexplain only what is beautiful in your face; but, darling, you have anobleness of soul that no language of mine could describe.
"I believe, my heroic love, that you have regarded yourself as amere plaything in my eyes. Why, ma chere, all of my heart you haveirrevocably. One of your dear hands is more precious to me, than anyother girl whom mine eyes have ever seen. Do you remember thedefinition of love that I tried to give you? Well, I gave it from myown experience. With such a love, my prairie flower, do I adore you.It is fit now that we are so soon to part, that I should tell youthis: and you will know that every blow I strike, every noble deed Ido, shall be for the approbation of the dear heart from whom fatesevers me. And though the hours of absence will be dreary there willlie beyond the darkest of them one hope which shall blaze like a starthrough the night, and this is, that I shall soon be able to call myAnnette my own sweet bride. Now, my beloved, if that wished-for timehad come, and I were to say, 'Will you be mine, Annette,' what wouldyour answer be?"
"I did not think it was necessary for Monsieur to ask me thatquestion," she answered shyly, her beautiful eyes cast down; "Ithought he knew."
"My own little hunted pet!" He checked his horse, and seized thebridle of Annette's pony, till the two animals stood close together.Then he kissed the girl upon her dew-wet lips, murmuring low,
"My love!"
Later on, they were in sight of the spot where they must part, andPhillips and Julie were awaiting them there. The light of the moonwas wan now upon the prairie, for the dawn was spreading in silveracross the eastern sky.
"My beloved must run no more risk, even for me," he said, leaningtenderly towards her.
She would be prudent, but she would always for his sake warn hisfriends of danger when she had knowledge of the same.
Again he breathed a low "Good-bye, my love," his eyes wistful,mournful and tender; and with Phillips at his side, then rode down asmall gorge at the bottom of which were tangles of cedar and larch.
And as they rode suspecting naught of danger, several Indians hiddenin the draggled bush arose and stealthily followed them.
Annette, the Metis Spy: A Heroine of the N.W. Rebellion Page 6