THE FINDING OF NESIS.
The afternoon was waning, and Colina, knowing she must have covered
nearly sixty miles, began to keep a sharp lookout ahead. They had had
no adventures by the way, except that of sleeping under the stars
without male protectors near, in itself an adventure to Colina. Colina
took it like everything else, as a matter of course.
Cora had been raised on the trail. In her impatience to arrive Colina
had somewhat scamped her horses' rest, and the grass-fed beasts were
tired.
Issuing from among the trees upon one of the now familiar grassy
bottoms that bordered the river, they saw grazing horses and knew they
were hard upon their destination.
A spur of the hills cut off the view up river. Rounding it, the
teepees spread before them. They were contained in a semicircular
hollow of the hills like an amphitheater, with the river running close
beside.
Colina had decided that in boldness lay her best chance of success.
Clapping heels to her horse's ribs, therefore, she rode smartly into
the square, appearing in the very midst of the Indians before they were
warned. This village differed in no important respect from the others.
Some of the teepees were made of tanned hides in the old way. The
people were of the same stock, but even less sophisticated. Few of
these had even been to Fort Enterprise to trade.
The sudden appearance of Colina's white face affected them something in
the way of a miracle.
Every man dropped what he was about and stared with hanging jaw.
Others came running out of the teepees and stopped dead at the door.
For a moment or two there was no movement whatever in the square.
But they knew Gaviller's daughter by repute, of course, and the word
was passed around that it was she. The tension relaxed. They slowly
gathered around, looking at her with no friendly eye.
Colina searched rapidly among them for one that might answer to the
description of Nesis. There was no girl that by any stretch of the
imagination could have been called beautiful. Not wishing to give them
time to spirit her away, Colina suddenly raised her voice and cried:
"Nesis!"
There was no answer, but several heads in the crowd turned
involuntarily toward a certain teepee. Colina, perceiving the
movement, wheeled her horse and loped across the square in that
direction.
Cora followed, leading the pack-horse. The Indians sidled after.
Approaching the teepee she had marked, Colina heard sounds of a muffled
struggle inside. Flinging herself off her horse and throwing up the
flap, she saw a figure on the ground, held down by several old crones.
"Hands off!" cried Colina in a voice so sudden and peremptory that the
old women, though the words meant nothing to them, obeyed.
Nesis, lithe and swift as a lynx, wriggled out of their grasp, sprang
to her feet, and darted outside, all in a single movement, it seemed.
The two girls faced each other, Nesis panting and trembling. The same
look of bitter curiosity was in each pair of eyes. Each acknowledged
the other's beauty with a jealous twinge. But in the red girl's sad
eyes there was no hope of rivalry. She soon cast down her lids.
Colina thought her eyes the saddest she had ever seen in a human face.
She saw that there was little resemblance between her and her Kakisa
sisters.
Nesis was as slender as a young aspen and her cheeks showed a clear
olive pallor. Her lips were like the petals of a Jacqueminot rose.
Colina, remembering that Ambrose had kissed them, turned a little hard.
"You are Nesis?" she asked, though she knew it well.
The girl nodded without looking up.
"You know Ambrose Doane?"
Again the mute nod.
"Will you come with me to testify for him?"
Nesis looked up blankly.
"I mean," explained Colina, "will you come and tell his judges that he
did not lead the Kakisas into trouble?"
Nesis, by vivid signs, informed Colina that Ambrose had been a prisoner
among the Indians.
It occurred to Colina as strange, since she could understand English,
that she should use signs. "I know he was a prisoner," she said.
"Will you come with me and tell the police that?"
Nesis turned and with a despairing gesture called Colina's attention to
the gathering Indians who would prevent her. Not a sound issued from
her lips.
"Never mind them," said Colina scornfully. "Are you willing to come?"
Nesis lifted her eyes to Colina's--eyes luminous with eagerness and
emotion--and quickly nodded again.
"Why doesn't she speak!" thought Colina. Aloud she said: "All right.
Tell them I am going to take you. Tell them anybody that interferes
does so at his peril." She pointed to her rifle.
To Colina's astonishment, the girl lowered her head and flung an arm up
over her face.
"What's the matter?" she cried. "I'll take care of you." She drew the
arm down. "Speak to them!" she said again.
Nesis slowly raised her head. Her eyes crept to Colina's, humble and
unspeakably mournful. She opened her mouth and pointed within.
Colina looked--and sickened. A little cry of utter horror was forced
from her, and she fell back a step, She saw why Nesis did not speak.
The disclosure was too sudden and dreadful.
For the first and last time during that hazardous enterprise her strong
spirit failed. She became as pale as snow and her hands flew to her
breast. Cora, watching her, slipped out of the saddle and glided to
her aid.
The weakness was momentary. Before Cora got to her the color came
winging back into Colina's cheeks. She thrust the half-breed girl from
her and, striding forward, faced the assembled Indians with blazing
eyes.
"You cowards!" she cried ringingly. "You pitiful, unmanly brutes! I
don't know which one of you did it. It doesn't matter. You all
permitted it. You shall all suffer for it. I promise you that!"
Under the whips of her eyes and voice they cringed and scowled.
Colina thrust her riding-crop into the hands of Nesis. "Get on that
horse," she commanded, pointing to the pack-animal. "Mount!" she cried
to Cora.
Meanwhile, from her own saddle she was hastily unfastening her rifle.
She resolutely threw the lever over and back. At the ominous sound the
Indians edged behind each other or sought cover behind convenient
teepees.
Nesis and Cora were mounted. Colina, keeping her eyes on the Indians,
said to them: "Go ahead. Walk your horses. I'll follow." She swung
herself into her own saddle.
Cora and Nesis started slowly out of the square. Colina followed,
swinging sidewise in her saddle and watching the Indians behind.
None offered to follow directly, but Colina observed that those who had
disappeared around the teepees were catching horses beyond. Others
running out of the square on the other side had disappeared around the
spur of the hill.
Plainly they did not mean to let her take Nesis unopposed.
The girls finally issued from among the teepees and extended their
horses into a trot. Cora rode first, her stolid face unchanged; from
moment to moment she looked over her shoulder to make sure that Colina
was safe. Nesis, blinded with tears, let her horse follow unguided,
and Colina brought up the rear.
Colina's face showed the fighting look, intent and resolute. Her brain
was too busy to dwell on tragedy then.
Rounding the hill, she saw that those who had gone ahead had
disappeared. The horses that had been grazing here were likewise gone.
It was not pleasant to consider the possibility of an ambush waiting in
the woods ahead. Other Indians began to appear in pursuit around the
hill.
Seeing the girls, they pulled in their horses and came on more slowly.
Colina, wishing to see what they would do, drew her horse to a walk,
whereupon the Indians likewise walked their horses.
Evidently they meant to stalk the girls at their leisure.
Colina, like a brave and hard-pressed general, considered the situation
from every angle without minimizing the danger. She had really nothing
but a moral weapon to use against the Indians. If that failed her,
then what?
Night was drawing on, and it would be difficult to intimidate them with
eyes and voice after dark. Moreover, her horses were fatigued to the
point of exhaustion. How could she turn them loose to rest and graze
with enemies both in the front and the rear?
She knew that a favorite Indian stratagem is to stampede the
adversaries' horses after dark. Colina carried the only gun in their
little party.
Striking into the woods out of sight of their pursuers, they urged
their horses to the best that was in them. Colina bethought herself of
profiting by Nesis's experience.
"Nesis," she called, "you know these people! What should we do?"
Nesis, rousing herself and turning her dreadfully eloquent eyes upon
Colina, signified that they must ride on for the present. When the sun
went down she would tell what to do.
For an hour thereafter they rode without speaking.
While it was still light they came out on another meadow. Nesis signed
to Colina that they should halt at the edge of the trees on the other
side, and, picketing the horses, let them graze for a little while.
It was done. The horses had to feed and rest, and this looked like as
good a place as any. Meanwhile Cora built a fire and cooked their
supper as unconcerned as if it were a picnic party an hour's ride from
home.
They had no sooner dismounted than the Indians appeared out of the
woods at the other side of the meadow. Seeing the girls, they likewise
dismounted without coming any closer, and built a great fire.
About a quarter of a mile separated the two fires. It grew dark.
Colina sat out of range of the firelight, watching the other fire.
Nesis took the gun and went on up the trail to guard against the
surprise from that side. Cora kept an eye upon the dim shapes of the
tethered horses, and watched her mistress with sullen, doglike devotion.
After an hour and a half Nesis returned, and signing to Cora to saddle
the horses, made a reconnaissance across the meadow.
Coming back to the fire presently, she indicated to Colina that they
were not watched from that side, and that they should now ride on.
Evidently the Indians thinking they had them trapped in the trail were
careless. Indians are not fond of scout duty in the dark in any case.
They softly made ready, taking care not to let the firelight betray
their activities. Nesis's last act was to heap fresh wood on the fire.
Colina, approving all she did was glad to let her run things. She
could not guess how she purposed evading the Indians in front.
They mounted, and proceeded into the woods, walking their horses
slowly. Colina could not make out the trail, but her horse could.
Nesis led the way. They climbed a little hill and descended the other
side. At the bottom the trail was bisected by a shallow stream making
its way over a stony bed to the river.
Halting her horse in the middle of it, Nesis allowed Colina to
approach, and pointed out to her that they must turn to the right here,
and let their horses walk in the water to avoid leaving tracks.
For more than an hour they made a painfully slow journey among the
stones. The intelligent horses picked their way with noses close to
the ground.
They were now between the steep high banks of a coulée. The trees
gradually thinned out, and a wide swath of the starry sky showed
overhead. Colina's heart rose steadily.
The Indians could not possibly find the place where they had left the
trail until daylight.
They would instantly understand their own stratagem, of course, but
they must lose still more time, searching the bed of the creek for
tracks leaving it. If only the horses had been fresher!
Finally Nesis left the bed of the creek, and urged her horse obliquely
up the steep side of the coulée on the left.
This was the side farther from the lower village, and the Enterprise
trail, and Colina wondered if she had not made a mistake.
Mounting over the rim of the coulée a superb night-view was open to
them. Before them rolled the bald prairie wide as the sea, with all
the stars of heaven piercing the black dome overhead.
It was still and frosty; the horses breathed smoke. To Colina's
nostrils rose the delicate smell of the rich buffalo grass, which cures
itself as it grows. The tired horses, excited by it, pawed the earth,
and pulled at the lines.
They halted, and Nesis turned her face up, fixing their position by the
stars. She finally pointed to the southeast. Colina knew it was
southeast because when she faced in that direction the north star,
friend of every traveler by night, was over her left shoulder.
"But the Kakisa village, the trail back to Enterprise is there," she
objected, pointing northeast.
Nesis nodded. With her graceful and speaking gestures she informed
Colina that all the country that way was covered with almost
impenetrable woods through which they could not ride without a trail.
Southeast, the prairie rolled smoothly all the way to the great river
that came from the distant high mountains.
"The spirit river?" asked Colina.
Nesis nodded, adding in dumb-show that when they reached its banks they
would make a raft and float down to Fort Enterprise.
"Good!" said Colina. "Let's ride on. The moon will be up later.
We'll camp by the first water that we come to."