Julie next fired, and when she saw, as the result of her shot, the
arm of the savage hang useless at his side, she cried-"Bon, bon!" and cocked her pistol again.
"We must wing them, Julie," Annette said, who had her arm extended
once again. "I don't like to kill the wretches." Then came a voice
crying from the swamp, in dismal Cree-"Don't fire any more; we won't follow the little scouts. We swear it
by the Sun, and by the God of Thunder;" and laying his hand upon his
hatchet, the terrified wretch faced the Sun and swore the oath: then
turning towards the clouds wherein the Thunder God resides, he
repeated his avowal with the same forms and solemnity of gesture.
Still Annette kept her arm extended.
"The braves talk with forked tongues, and we do not believe them,"
she replied, in the Cree language.
"But we have sworn it," the miserable savage replied, in a doleful
voice.
"False men, swearing by false gods!" Annette replied. "No; we will
not trust them. But let the braves listen. We do not want to kill
them, and have decided to wing them instead."
"Oh, oh!" groaned the poor red-skins.
"There is no time to lose; the braves must not hide behind their
ponies in that way, or we shall be obliged to fire at their bodies
and kill them. They must come out so that we can shoot them in the
legs."
The reader who has reached this point will likely say, "Well, Mr.
Author, you are a bright individual. Why did not the Indians fire?"
The truth is, they had no firearms, being supplied only with hatchets
and spears; and they were not aware that the scouts had pistols.
"But we have nothing more to fear from them, mademoiselle," Julie
said, "wherefore need we fire at them?"
"Nor do I intend to do so, Julie; I am only bent now on so
frightening them that they will no more attempt pursuit. Moreover, I
am anxious that they shall convey tidings of our bloodthirstiness
among all the tribes; for when such rumour obtains circulation, we
shall be harassed less by pursuit."
"C'est bien, ma maitresse; c'est bien."
"No more delay," shouted Annette. "Let the two braves stand up," But
each one lay close under the lee of a struggling horse, holding the
animal fast by the head, in order to keep him sure in the swamp.
"Put you up your pistol, Julie; leave this work to me." And once
more presenting her little round, ferocious arm, she fired, hitting
one of the shielding horses upon the fore shoulder. Maddened with
pain, the brute flung himself out of his predicament, and left the
Indian exposed, upon which Annette immediately fired. The savage
uttered a terrible cry, flung up his arms, and fell without a move
among the liverwort.