The Indians came crowding around the corpse--both warriors and women.
Their exclamations betokened no sympathy. Even the squaws looked on
with unpitying aspect--though the victim was of their own race and sex.
They knew she had been allied with their enemies; and had been witnesses
of her savage assault upon _Maranee_, though ignorant of its motive.
Some of them who had lost kindred in the strife, already stirred by
grief and fury, were proceeding to insult the lifeless and mutilated
remains--to mutilate them still more! I turned away from the loathsome
scene. Neither the dead nor the living, that composed this ghastly
tableau, had further interest for me.
My glance, wandering in search of other forms, first fell upon that of
Wingrove. He was standing near, in an attitude that betokened extreme
prostration of spirit. His head hung forward over his breast; but his
eyes were not directed to the ground: they were turned upward, gazing
after a form that was passing away. It was that of the huntress. The
girl had regained her horse; and was riding off, followed by the dog.
She went slowly--as if irresolute both as to the act and the direction.
In both, the horse appeared to have his will: the reins rested loosely
upon his withers; while his rider seemed wrapped in a silent
abstraction. I was hastening towards my Arab, with the design of
joining her, when I saw that I was anticipated. Another had conceived a
similar intention. It was Wa-ka-ra.
The young chief, still on horseback, was seen spurring out from the
midst of his men, and guiding his war-steed in the direction taken by
the huntress. Before I could lay hands upon my bridle, he had galloped
up to Marian, and falling into a gentler pace, rode on by her side. I
did not attempt to follow them. Somewhat chagrined at having my designs
interrupted, I gave up the intention of mounting my horse, and turned
back towards Wingrove. As soon as I was near enough to read the
expression upon his features, I saw that my chagrin was more than shared
by him. An emotion of most rancorous bitterness was burning in the
breast of the young backwoodsman. His glance was fixed upon the two
forms--slowly receding across the plain. He was regarding every
movement of both with that keen concentrated gaze, which jealousy alone
can give.
"Nonsense, Wingrove!" said I, reading the thoughts of his heart. "Don't
let that trouble you: there's nothing between them, I can assure you."
Certainly the spectacle was enough to excite the suspicions of a less
jealous lover--if not to justify them. Both the equestrians had halted
at a distant part of the plain. They were not so distant, but that
their attitudes could be observed. They still remained on horseback;
but the horses were side by side, and so near each other, that the
bodies of their riders appeared almost touching. The head of the chief
was bent forward and downward; while his hand appeared extended outward,
as if holding that of the huntress! It was a fearful tableau for a
lover to contemplate--even at a distance; and the white lips, clenched
teeth, and quick irregular beating of Wingrove's heart--perfectly
audible to me as I stood beside him--told with what terrible emotions
the sight was inspiring him. I was myself puzzled at the attitude of
the Utah chief--as well as the silent complaisance with which his
attentions appeared to be received. It certainly had the seeming of
gallantry--though I was loth to believe in its reality. In truth I
could not give credence to such a thought. It was not human nature--not
even woman's--to play false in such _sans facon_. The appearance must
certainly be a deception?
I was endeavouring to conjecture an explanation, when a moving object
attracted my attention. It was a horseman who appeared upon the plain,
beyond where the huntress and the chief had halted. To our eyes, he was
nearly in a line with them--approaching down the valley from the upper
canon--out of which he had evidently issued. He was still at a
considerable distance from the other two; but it could be seen that he
was coming on at full gallop and straight towards them. In a few
moments, he would be up to where they stood. I watched this horseman
with interest. I was in hopes he would keep on his course, and
interrupt the scene that was annoying myself, and torturing my
companion. I was not disappointed in the hope. The hurrying horseman
rode straight on; and, having arrived within a few paces of the ground
occupied by the others, drew his horse to a halt. At the same instant,
the Utah chief was seen to separate from his companion; and riding up to
the stranger, appeared to enter into conversation with him.
After some minutes had elapsed, the chief faced round to the huntress;
and, apparently giving utterance to some parting speech, headed his
horse toward the butte, and along with the stranger, came galloping
downward. The huntress kept her place; but I saw her dismount, and
stoop down towards the dog, as if caressing him. I resolved to seize
the opportunity of speaking with her alone; and, bidding Wingrove wait
for my return, I once more hastened to lay hold of my horse. Perhaps I
should encounter the chief on the way? Perhaps he might not exactly
like the proceeding? But Marian must be communicated with upon
something besides matters of love; and my honest intention rendered me
less timid about any idle construction the savage might please to put
upon my conduct. Thus fortified, I leaped to the back of my steed, and
hurried off upon my errand.