“You do not believe me,” she said quickly; “but, indeed, I have heard so many strange things that I know not what to believe myself.  Strangest of all is that white men should call upon those terrible savage Indians to war with them against their white brethren.  That, as my good uncle says, is a disgrace to humanity.  Ah!  I would you could have heard him speak to the officers at yonder fort since his arrival there.  They brought in a few prisoners a few days after we came.  They were going to cook and eat them—­to treat them—­oh, I cannot think of it!  My uncle went to the officers, and bid them interfere; but they only shrugged their shoulders, and said they must not anger the Indians, or they would desert, and become even more troublesome than they are already.  He got them out of their hands himself, and sent them safely to Montreal; and oh, how he spoke to the French soldiers and officers afterwards!  He said that such wicked disregard of the bond betwixt Christian and Christian must inevitably draw down the wrath of Heaven upon those who practised it, and that no cause could prosper where such things were permitted.

“I have heard things since I have been here that have filled my heart with sorrow and anger.  I have been ashamed of my countrymen!  I have felt that our foes are nobler than ourselves, and that God must surely arise and fight for them if these abominations are suffered to continue.”

The Rangers were silent; they well knew what she meant.  The French were culpably weak where the Indians were concerned, permitting them almost without remonstrance to burn their prisoners from the English lines, and even after engagements leaving the English dead and wounded to the Indians and the wolves, though the English always buried the French dead with their own when they had been in like circumstances, and had showed kindness to their wounded.

“The Indians are the plague of the lives of men and officers alike,” continued the girl, breaking forth in animated fashion.  “They eat up a week’s rations in three days, and come clamouring for more.  They make rules for the English which they will not observe themselves.  They are insolent and disgusting and treacherous.  Oh, I cannot think how our people bear it!  I would sooner lose all than win through using such tools.  I hate to think of victory obtained by such means.  You Rangers are brave men; though men dread you, yet they respect you, and would fain imitate your prowess.  The Indians are devils—­I can find no other name for them.  They are fiends, and I verily think that evil will befall us if we league ourselves with them.  Thus my uncle tries to teach; but they will not listen to his words.”

“Time will show, lady,” answered Fritz; “and there are Indians who are gentle and tamable, and are some of them even sincere believers in our Christian faith.  I have seen and lived among such in the lands of the south.  But here they have been corrupted by the vices of those who should teach them better.  It is a disgrace to England and France alike that this should be so.”