"Oh, I had such a horrid dream, Julie," and nestling her head upon
the bosom of her maid, she was soon asleep and wandering again in
spirit with her lover through the prairie flowers.
They were astir early in the morning, and Annette, as was the habit
of the Metis women, had about her shoulders a blanket of Indian red
and Prussian blue. [Footnote: It is customary for Metis women, even
the most coquettish and pretty of them, to wear blankets; and the
hideous "fashion" is the chief barbaric trait which they inherit from
their wild ancestry. Annette, of course, donned the robe under a
mental protest. E.C.] Captain Stephens had gone abroad upon the
prairie 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 a
tiger lily, moist with dew. "Now, in what way can I assist the Cree
boy who has twice saved my life?" and he looked wistfully into the
eyes of the brown maiden.
"If monsieur will just sit there upon the grass, petite and myself
will get the meal;" and straightway she began to pluck and prepare
the chickens which Stephens had given her. The sun burned through the
cobalt blue of the prairie sky, and there was not anywhere in the
great, blue dome an atom of cloud. The sun and the rays from the fire
combined made the heat unbearable, and Annette with no little
confusion laid by her blanket. Perceiving her discomfiture, Stephens
arose and wandered about the prairie, picking flowers; and only
returned 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 again
feverish with his wounds.
They rode till the post meridian sun became too warm, and then
obtaining shelter in a bluff, they lunched and rested for several
hours. They then resumed their march and continued it till the set of
sun. 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 her
to Julie or Phillips, always used the word "he." Annette took no heed
of this; she led the party through mazes of woodland, across
stretches where there was no trail, or selected the camping-ground.
"The moon rises to-night about twelve, monsieur," she said to
Stephens when supper had been ended, "and we had better resume our
march then. There is a Cree village not far from here, and the braves
are everywhere abroad. I do not think that travelling by day would be
safe; for all the Indians must have read the proclamation."