No sooner had Jacques heard that Leopold St. Croix was below than he rushed down the terrace, rifle in hand, to have it out with him.  There was no holding him back; he was regardless of consequences.

The others remained where they were.  With one rifle they could command the terrace until the troops came to their relief.  Lagrange continued to roll down rocks, to the great discomfiture of the holders of the pass, who kept dodging about from one side to the other in imminent fear of their lives.  When one Indian was effectually quieted by a huge boulder that Lagrange had sent down on the top of him, the others saw that it was impossible to remain there any longer, so incontinently fled.  Leopold St. Croix, being somewhat stout, was left behind in the headlong flight that ensued.

When Jacques reached the bottom of the terrace, he found that the Indians had left the coast clear for him.  He was rounding the bluff amongst the rocks when he met his old enemy face to face.

“Ha! coquin!” cried Jacques; “and so, mon ami, I have found you! Bien! Now we shall fight, like that, so!”

And putting his rifle to his shoulder, he sent a bullet through Leopold St. Croix’s badger-skin cap.  St. Croix returned the compliment by shaving a lock of hair off Jacques’ right temple.  Both men got behind rocks, and for three minutes they carried on a spirited duel.  At length, after both had had several narrow shaves of annihilation, Jacques succeeded in sending a bullet through St. Croix’s shoulder, and that settled the matter.

The prisoners had now descended the terrace, and were every moment expecting to find themselves once more face to face with British troops, when something occurred which is always occurring when a civilised force, with its time-honoured precedent, is dealing with a savage race that acts on its own initiative—­the unexpected happened—­the inevitable slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.  The British, thinking that their work was over, left their cover and rushed towards the various inlets in a careless, disorganised fashion.  Quick as thought the rebels seized their opportunity.  They rallied and poured in a withering fire upon the scattered troops.  The unprotected guns were rushed by a mere handful of Indians who had been hiding in the watercourse, and the retreat was sounded to protect them.  At the same moment Poundmaker found himself with one of his head men, who bore the picturesque name of Young-Man-Who-Jumps-Like-a-Frog, and these two, with a strong following at their heels, appeared round the corner of a bluff.  A few seconds later Jacques was seized from behind, and the other prisoners were once more secured.  It all happened so suddenly that there was no time to escape or make any resistance.

CHAPTER XXI

BACK TO CAPTIVITY