It so happened that the Indians came first to this house, in their search for prisoners.  As they approached, the inmates, fearful that the fair complexion and general appearance of Mrs. Helm might betray her for an American, raised a large feather bed and placed her under the edge of it, upon the bedstead, with her face to the wall.  Mrs. Bisson, a half-breed, the sister of Ouilmette’s wife, then seated herself with her sewing upon the front of the bed.

It was a hot day in August, and the feverish excitement of fear and agitation, together with her position, which was nearly suffocating, became so intolerable, that Mrs. Helm at length entreated to be released and given up to the Indians.

“I can but die,” said she; “let them put an end to my misery at once.”

Mrs. Bisson replied, “Your death would be the destruction of us all, for Black Partridge has resolved that if one drop of the blood of your family is spilled, he will take the lives of all concerned in it, even his nearest friends; and if once the work of murder commences, there will be no end of it, so long as there remains one white person or half-breed in the country.”

This expostulation nerved Mrs. Helm with fresh resolution.

The Indians entered, and she could occasionally see them from her hiding-place, gliding about, and stealthily inspecting every part of the room, though without making any ostensible search, until, apparently satisfied that there was no one concealed, they left the house.

All this time Mrs. Bisson had kept her seat upon the side of the bed, calmly sorting and arranging the patch-work of the quilt on which she was engaged, and preserving an appearance of the utmost tranquillity, although she knew not but that the next moment she might receive a tomahawk in her brain.  Her self-command unquestionably saved the lives of all present.

From Ouilmette’s house the party of Indians proceeded to the dwelling of Mr. Kinzie.  They entered the parlor in which the family were assembled with their faithful protectors, and seated themselves upon the floor in silence.  Black Partridge perceived from their moody and revengeful looks what was passing in their minds, but he dared not remonstrate with them.  He only observed in a low tone to Wau-ban-see,—­

“We have endeavored to save our friends, but it is in vain—­nothing will save them now.”

At this moment a friendly whoop was heard from a party of new-comers on the opposite bank of the river.  Black Partridge sprang to meet their leader, as the canoes in which they had hastily embarked touched the bank near the house.

“Who are you?” demanded he.

“A man.  Who are you?”

“A man like yourself.  But tell me who you are,”—­meaning, Tell me your disposition, and which side you are for.

“I am a Sau-ga-nash!”

“Then make all speed to the house—­your friend is in danger, and you alone can save him.”