A GOOD SAMARITAN.
The young rancher was yet some distance from the prostrate foe, when his
quick eye discovered something. It was a crimson stain on the snow near
the stock of the Indian's rifle.
The miscreant was wounded; he was not shamming.
It was remarkable that with this discovery came an utter revulsion of
feeling on the part of the youth. While he had been ready up to that
moment to drive his bullet through the bronzed skull, an emotion of pity
now took possession of him. He forgot that the fellow had tried with
desperate endeavor to take his life, and he knew he expected no mercy at
his hands. Nevertheless, as a Christian, he could not withhold his
sympathy, nor could he forget that simple but sublime role of the good
Samaritan.
Touching his heels against the ribs of Jack, the pony increased his
pace, but had not yet reached the prostrate figure when Warren
experienced the greatest surprise of all.
The Indian on the ground was Starcus!
The next moment young Starr dropped from his saddle, and was bending
over him.
"I hardly expected this, Starcus," he said, with a gentle reproof in his
voice. "You seem to have changed your mind since this morning, when you
shot the grizzly."
Indian though he was the fellow's painted face was darkened by an
expression of deep pain, whether the result of his hurt or of his mental
disquietude no one can say.
"I am not your friend; I am the enemy of all white men."
"You have proven that since you turned against those who would do you no
harm. But I have no wish to reproach you; your arm is badly hurt; let me
give you what help I can."
"I want no help," replied the Sioux, resolutely compressing his thin
lips; "go away and leave me alone."
"I shall not; I am your master, and shall do as I please with you."
"I tell you to leave me alone; I do not want your help," added Starcus
fiercely.
"You shan't hinder me, old fellow; this is for old times."
And paying no heed to the sufferer, who struggled with pitiful
awkwardness to keep him off, Starr ripped a piece from the lining of his
coat, and began bandaging the bleeding arm. The Sioux still resisted,
but while doing so showed a weakness rare in one of his race by fainting
dead away.
The youth made no effort to revive him until he had completed his hasty
but rude swathing of the arm, which was badly shattered by a bullet.
Then he flung some snow in the face of the fellow, who had already shown
signs of coming to.
Starcus looked around for a moment in a bewildered way, and then fixed
his gaze on the wounded member, now bound so that the flow of blood was
stopped. Then he turned his dark eyes on the face of the youth bending
over him, with an indescribable expression, and said in a low voice:
"I tried my best to kill you, Warren."
"But you didn't; and I am unharmed, and am your friend."
"And why are you my friend? I do not deserve it," continued the Sioux,
with his black eyes still centred on the face of the athletic youth.
"If you and I had what we deserved where would we be? Give it no further
thought."
Starcus now held his peace for a full minute, during which he never once
removed his gaze from the countenance of the good Samaritan. Strange
thoughts must have passed through his brain. When he spoke it was in a
voice as gentle as a girl's.
"Can you forgive me for what I have done?"
"With my whole heart."
"But I tried my best to kill you."
"Are you sorry?"
"Yes, sorry as I can be."
"Then I repeat, I forgive you; but are you able to rise to your feet?"
"Yes; I pretended I was not, so as to bring you closer to me. Had not my
arm been hurt I would have shot you."
"I am not sure of that," replied Warren, with a curious smile; "I
suspected it, and was on my guard. At the first move on your part I
would have fired. I was not sure even that you were hurt at all until I
saw blood on the snow. But it will not do for you to stay here. Let me
help you to your feet."
Starcus proved that the rest of his limbs were uninjured by coming as
nimbly as an acrobat to an upright posture.
"You have done all you can for me, and I thank you; now do not wait any
longer."
"Why not?" asked Warren, suspecting his meaning, but desirous of testing
him a little further.
"Look toward the ridge," was the significant reply.
The inaction of the other Sioux, as has been intimated, was due to their
belief that Starcus was master of the situation. Even when they saw him
pitch from the back of his pony they must have thought it a part of the
strategy designed to lure the young man to his death.
But the sight of the youth bending over the prostrate figure of their
comrade told the truth. Starcus had been wounded, and was at the mercy
of his conqueror.
Much as the warriors were disappointed, they were not the ones to allow
the brave fellow to be killed without an effort on their part to save
him.
Warren had suspected the truth, and, while seeming to be unaware of it,
he observed several of the warriors running at full speed from the ridge
out on the snowy prairie. They were still a goodly distance away, and he
calculated just how far it was prudent to allow them to approach before
appealing to Jack, standing within a few paces and awaiting his
pleasure.
He was hoping for just such a warning from Starcus as he had received.
He wanted it as a "guarantee of good faith," and when it came all doubts
of the sincerity of his repentance were gone.
Still, although this particular Sioux might feel gratitude for the
undeserved mercy shown to him, there was no hope of anything of that
nature from his companions. Had Warren counted upon that, he would have
made the mistake of his life. He and his friend had done the bucks too
much ill to be forgiven for an act of kindness to one of their number,
even though it was actuated by a motive whose nobility they could not
fail to understand.
"That is kind of you, to warn me of my danger," remarked the youth. "I
shall not forget it. But they are so far off that I need not hurry to
mount my horse."
"Do not wait too long; they will soon be here."
"I have my pony, and they are on foot."
"But they can run fast."
"I will leave in time; but, Starcus, if you are really a friend of mine,
you have the chance to prove it by being a friend of Tim; he is a
prisoner with your people, and in need of your good offices."
"I cannot help him," was the reply, accompanied by a shake of the head.
"I only ask that you shall do what you can; I am sure you will, whether
it results in good to him or not."
"Give yourself no hope of that; it will be hard for me to explain why I
was spared by you."
"But that was my own affair; surely they cannot suspect us of any
collusion."
"You do not know my people as I do."
"But I am not the first white man that has shown mercy to a helpless
foe; they know that as well as you and I."
"You are waiting too long, Warren; they will soon be here," added the
warrior, with an apprehensive glance toward the ridge, from which his
people were approaching with alarming swiftness.
"Well, good-by, Starcus."
He grasped the left hand of the Sioux, who warmly returned the pressure
with the words, "Good-by, Warren."
Then Warren Starr, not a moment too soon, sprang into the saddle and
galloped away.