THE SCOUT.
With the dawn of light the scout was astir, and began carefully
investigating the ground. But he had gone over very little of it when
he saw the old Medicine come sauntering along and enter his cave,
that was so well guarded by beasts and reptiles. He watched until the
old man came out again, trailed him as he visited the walled up spot
where the physician was confined, and waited until he returned to the
village, and then crawled near and gave vent to his thoughts after his
own peculiar manner:
"Here am ernother of ther old devil's dens and I don't like ther
looks on it nuther. But I must know all of his run-ways and what he
am erbout. Besides, no one must know that I am eround and it may come
handy ef I should have ter cut fer my life."
It was a wise though a dangerous resolution, and had not a party of
hunters stopped directly in front of it to cook game, the suffering
prisoner would have been immediately rescued. That prevented, but still
he lingered near--crawled to the rocks above and watched them closely.
It was at too great a distance, however, for him to hear what was being
said, and curiosity drew him nearer. But he soon had occasion to regret
it, for venturing upon the very verge of the cliff it crumbled beneath
his weight and he rolled down like a great ball into their very midst!
The startled Indians fled in every direction, satisfied that it was
the ghost of the man they had seen swinging from the tree above, and,
taking advantage of their flight, the scout also disappeared, making
the woods ring with hideous moans and laughter.
This story he knew would be circulated far and wide and believed by
all but the Burning Cloud, and the valley avoided, especially after
nightfall, so he prepared a number of rude torches, and having lighted
one, he removed a stone, as the Medicine had done, and crawled into the
prison-house of the nearly dead physician.
"Great God!" he exclaimed, as the sounds of suffering came to his ears,
and he started back with the intention of retreating, for though he
had enjoyed the fright of others he was not proof against the power of
ghosts himself.
The sounds continued. Low moaning came distinctly, and straining his
eyes he could discover nothing but a pile of stones, that so much
resembled a grave as to make him shudder. Yes, it must be a ghost that
was luring him to destruction, and the fate of the physician hung upon
the most slender of threads.
"For the love of heaven," was breathed in a faint and trembling voice,
"come and put an end to my wretched life, and I will even forgive all
that you have done and pray for you."
"Great thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the scout, even more
astonished than he had been before, "who be yer?"
"Oh! Wash--thank God--I am the doctor."
"Ther doctor!"
He could scarcely believe what he had heard. The physician alone and
in such a place, and more than all in a tomb of stones! The scout
hesitated not a moment, but, kindling a fire sufficient to illuminate
the cavern, he then set to work with a will to remove the stones,
muttering deep and bitter curses upon the hand that had placed them
there. Then followed the loosening of the bonds, and tears came into
his eyes as he saw to what a state the physician had been reduced, and
holding him tenderly in his arms he heard his story.
"May ther devil burn and tear him with red-hot pinchers ferever and
ever," growled the scout, from between his set teeth. "But, how much
you must have suffered!"
"More than tongue can tell. But what of Olive? Is she alive? Is she
well?"
"Yes--I believe so. But now, doctor, I must be off. I won't be gone
very long and will bring yer somethin' to eat."
"Do not stay away any longer than is necessary."
"Yer kin bet all ther beaver-skins between heah and ther Mississip, I
shan't be gone any longer than I kin posserbly help. I don't fancy ther
neighborhood jest now any more than yer do."
"Now," muttered the scout, as he crawled forth into the open air again,
"ter find ther Cloud."
It had grown very dark and he found his way along with difficulty, but
knowing the direction of the village he steadily kept it until he could
distinguish the light of the fires and even hear voices. He made his
way to the trysting-place in the Indian graveyard and there awaited.
He had not long to wait, however, for Burning Cloud soon stole out from
the wigwams, and when she reached the blazed trees that marked the spot
devoted to the dwellings of the dead, she softly called the name of her
lover.
He leaped lightly forward, and drawing her to him they sat down and
conversed long and earnestly, for each had very much to tell.
Then he accompanied her as near the village as he dared--lingered and
caressed her--and at last would have torn himself away and retreated to
a more secure place. But, even as he turned around he was confronted
by half a dozen warriors who had crept like serpents around, and was
instantly pinioned.
But it was joy to him to know that the squaw had escaped, and still
more so that she had been mistaken for a man. This their excited
conversation among themselves revealed, and when questioned he boldly
gave the name of Muck-a-kee!
Dragged into the center of the wigwams he was bound to the post of
torture, and great rejoicing at his capture followed. And the very
thing he had at first feared came to pass. He was known, and the air
rung with the name of "Beaver Tail!"