Pierre's eyes blazed, as he grasped the Indian's wrist and wrenched the
cruel grip loose. He looked the savage straight in the eye.
"That's _mine!_" said he steadily. "Keep your hands off!"
The Indian snatched again at the bundle, this time ineffectually; and
then he drew his knife as if to attack Pierre. The latter jumped back,
laid his burden on the ground, and stood before it, hatchet in hand.
Seeing he was not to be intimidated, and willing to avoid a hand-to-hand
struggle with one who seemed so ready for it, the savage withdrew
grumbling, at the same time resolving that he would force Pierre later
on to divide his booty. As soon as he was gone Pierre snatched up his
charge and sped away exultant.
The boy's design was to follow the Kenneticook to its mouth, and thence
to ascend the Piziquid to the Acadian settlement, which he knew stood
somewhere on its banks. He did not dare to try and find his way back to
Beausejour. He knew that if he followed the trail of his party he would
be captured and the child killed; and we was equally certain that if he
deserted the trail he should be lost inevitably. Once at Piziquid,
however, he counted on getting a fisherman to take him to Beausejour
by water.
After toiling through the woods for perhaps an hour, keeping ever within
hearing of the stream, Pierre set his burden on the ground and threw
himself down beside her to snatch a moment's rest. The little one was
in her bare feet, so it was impossible for her to walk in that rough
and difficult region.
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