We sent up a shout, caring little whether it was answered by English or French.

We knew that what we had heard was no Indian whoop; it came from the throats of white men.
"Next minute a body of Rangers had dashed amongst us.

The Indians fled, scattering right and left like chaff before the wind.

Next minute I distinguished the friendly face of Fritz.

He was kneeling beside our uncle, and asking him tenderly if he were hurt." "The same Fritz as saved us in the forest! Oh, I am glad it was he!" "So was I; and doubly glad when I found that he knew more about the cure of these forest fevers than even our uncle himself.