In silence I continued to scrutinise the camp, but could discover no
mode of approaching it secretly or in safety.
As I have said, the adjacent plain, for nearly a thousand yards' radius,
was a smooth grass-covered prairie. Even the grass was short: it would
scarcely have sheltered the smallest game--much less afford cover for
the body of a man--much less for that of a horse.
I should willingly have crawled on hands and knees, over the half-mile
that separated us from the encampment; but that would have been of no
service; I might just as well have walked erect. Erect or prostrate, I
should be seen all the same by the occupants of the camp, or the guards
of the horses. Even if I succeeded in effecting an entrance within the
lines, what then? Even should I succeed in finding Isolina, what then?
what hope was there of our getting off?
There was no probability of our being able to pass the lines unseen--not
the least. We should certainly be pursued, and what chance for us to
escape? It was not probable we could run for a thousand yards with the
hue and cry after us? No; we should be overtaken, recaptured, speared
or tomahawked upon the spot!
The design I had formed was to bring my horse as close as possible to
the camp; to leave him under cover, and within such a distance as would
make it possible to reach him by a run; then mounting with my betrothed
in my arms, to gallop on to my comrades. The men, I had intended,
should be placed in ambush, as near to the camp as the nature of the
ground would permit.
But my preconceived plan was entirely frustrated by the peculiar
situation of the Indian encampment. I had anticipated that there would
be either trees, brushwood, or broken ground in its neighbourhood, under
shelter of which we might approach it. To my chagrin, I now saw that
there was none of the three. There was no timber nearer than the grove
in which we were lying--the copse excepted--and to have reached this
would have been to enter the camp itself.
We appeared to have advanced to the utmost limit possible that afforded
cover. A few feet farther would have carried us outside the margin of
the wood, and then we should have been as conspicuous to the denizens of
the camp, as they now were to us. Forward we dared not stir--not a step
farther.
I was puzzled and perplexed. Once more I turned my eyes upon the sky,
but I drew not thence a ray of hope; the heavens were too bright; the
sun had gone down in the west; but in the east was rising, full, round,
and red, almost his counterpart. How I should have welcomed an eclipse!
I thought of Omnipotent power; I thought of the command of the
Israelitish captain. I should have joyed to see the shadow of the
opaque earth pass over that shining orb; and rob it of its borrowed
light, if only for a single hour!
Eclipse or cloud there was none--no prospect of one or other--no hope
either from the earth or the sky.
Verily, then, must I abandon my design, and adopt some other for the
rescue of my betrothed? What other?
I could think of none: there was no other that might be termed a plan.
We might gallop forward, and openly attack the camp? Sheer desperation
alone could impel us to such a course, and the result would be ruin to
all--to her among the rest. We could not hope to rescue _her_--nine to
a hundred--for we saw and could now count our dusky foemen. They would
see us afar off; would be prepared to receive us--prepared to hurl their
masses upon us--to destroy us altogether. Sheer desperation!