Our deliberations occupied but a brief time. I had already considered
the subject in all its bearings; and arrived at the conviction that
there was only one course to be followed, by which Lilian's safety could
be secured--that is, by carrying her off from the Mormon train. In this
opinion her sister fully agreed. She knew it would be idle to expect
that the wolf would willingly yield up his victim; and the painful
thought was pressing upon her that even her own father, hoodwinked by
the hypocrites that surrounded him, might reject the opportunity of
saving his child! He would not be the only parent, who, blinded by this
abominable delusion, has similarly sacrificed upon the unhallowed altar
of Mormondom. Of this melancholy fact Marian was not ignorant. Her
unhappy journey across the great plains had revealed to her many a
strange incident--many a wicked phase of the human heart.
All agreed that Lilian must be taken from the Mormons, either by force
or by stealth. It must be done, too, before they could reach the Salt
Lake city. Once upon the banks of the Transatlantic Jordan, these
pseudo-saints would be safe from the interference of their most powerful
enemies. There the deed of abduction would be no longer possible; or,
if still possible, _too late_. Was it practicable elsewhere--upon the
route? And how was it to be effected? These were the questions that
occupied us. There were but three men of us: for the Irishman, now
completely _hors de combat_, must be left behind. True, the
huntress-maiden, who had declared her determination to accompany us,
might well be counted as a fourth; in all four guns. But what would
four guns avail against more than ten times the number? Wingrove had
learnt from the wretched Chicasaw that there were a hundred men with the
Mormon train. It was idle, therefore, to think of carrying her off by
force. That would have been sheer quixotism--only to end fatally for
all of us.
And was it not equally idle to dream of an abduction by stealth?
Verily, it seemed so. How were we to approach this Mormon host? How
enter their camp, guarded as it would be by the jealous vigilance of
lynx-eyed villains? By day, it would be impossible; by night,
hazardous, and equally impracticable would be our purpose. We could not
join company with these clannish emigrants, without offering some
excuse. What pretext could be put forward? Had we been strangers to
them, we might have availed ourselves of some plausible story; but,
unfortunately, it was not so. All of us, except Sure-shot, would be
known to their leader. My presence, however unexpected, would at once
proclaim my purpose to the keen-witted knave; and as for Marian Holt,
hers would be a position of positive danger--even equalling that in
which her sister was now placed. Stebbins could _claim_ her--if not by
a true husband's right, at least by the laws of Mormon matrimony; and of
course by those laws would the case be judged in a Mormon camp--the
apostle himself being their interpreter!
The hope which I had built upon the prospect of an alliance with Marian
was, that by her intercession Lilian might be induced voluntarily to
make her escape--even, if necessary, _from her father_! I had conceived
the hope too hastily--without dwelling upon the danger to Marian
herself. This was now evident to all of us. We saw that Marian could
not safely enter the Mormon camp. We could not think of submitting her
to a danger that might too probably conduct to a double sacrifice--two
victims instead of one. Our thoughts turned upon the ex-rifleman. He
was the only one of us unknown to the leader of the Mormons, and to Holt
himself. To Sure-shot, then, were our hopes next transferred. He might
join the train on some pretext, the rest of us remaining at a distance?
By this agency, a communication might be effected with Lilian herself;
the proximity of her sister made known; the perils of her own
situation--of which no doubt the young creature was yet entirely
ignorant. Her scruples once overcome by a knowledge of her own danger,
she would herself aid in contriving a plan of escape! For such a
purpose, Sure-shot was the man--adroit, crafty, courageous. Thus ran
our reflections.
It may be wondered why, in this emergency, we had not thought of
Wa-ka-ra: surely he could have given us effective aid. With his mounted
warriors, he could soon have overtaken the Mormon train, surrounded it,
and dealt out the law to its leader? But we had already learnt the
improbability of our appeal being acted upon. Marian had interpreted to
us the views of the Utah chief in relation to the Mormons. These wily
diplomatists had, from their first settlement in the Utah territory,
courted the alliance of Wa-ka-ra and his band. They had made much of
the warlike chief--had won his confidence and friendship--and at that
hour the closest intimacy existed between him and the Mormon prophet.
For this reason, Marian believed it would require a stronger motive than
mere personal friendship to make him act as their enemy.
In such an important enterprise, no chance should be left untried. I
was determined none should be; and therefore incited Marian to make an
appeal to the Utah chief. She consented. It was worth the experiment.
Should the answer prove favourable, our difficulties would soon
disappear, and we might hope for a speedy success. If otherwise, our
prospects would still be the same--no worse: for worse they could
scarcely be. Marian left us, and proceeded on her errand to the chief.
We saw him withdraw from the ceremonies, and, going apart, engage with
the girl in what appeared an earnest and animated conversation. With
hopeful hearts we looked on. Wingrove was no longer jealous. I had
cured him with a hint; and the bandaged arm of his betrothed had
explained the delicate attentions, which the Indian had been seen to
bestow upon her. The dialogue lasted for ten minutes, the speakers at
intervals glancing towards us; but we knew the theme, and patiently
awaited the issue. It was soon to be declared to us. We saw the chief
wave his hand--as a signal that the conversation was ended; and the
speakers parted. Wa-ka-ra walked back among his warriors, while Marian
was seen returning to our council. We scrutinised her countenance as
she approached, endeavouring to read in it what our wishes dictated--an
affirmative to our appeal. Her step was buoyant; and her glance, if not
gay, at least not one that betokened disappointment. We were unable to
determine, however, until her words declared the answer of the chief.
As Marian had anticipated, he could not consent to act openly against
the Mormons. But the tale had enlisted his sympathy; and he had even
suggested a plan by which we might carry out our design, without the
necessity of his interference.
It was this: the horseman that had just arrived, chanced to be a
messenger from the Mormons. Unable to find the Coochetopa Pass, they
were still encamped in the great valley of San Luis, on the banks of the
Rio del Norte. The only one of them who had been across the plains
before was their leader--Stebbins, of course--and he, having gone by the
Cherokee trail and Bridger's Pass, was entirely unacquainted with the
route they were now following. They were in need of a guide; and having
encountered the Indian at this crisis, and learnt that he belonged to
the band of Wa-ka-ra--not far off, as the man informed them--they had
despatched him to the Utah chief, with a request that the latter would
furnish them with a guide, and two or three of his best hunters. Before
Marian had ended her explanation, I had divined the scheme. We were _to
personate the guide and hunters_. That was the suggestion of the Utah
chief!
It was perfectly feasible. Nothing can be easier than to counterfeit
the semblance of the American Indian. The colour of the skin is of no
consequence. Ochre, charcoal, and vermilion made red man and white man
as like as need be; and for the hair, the black tail of a horse,
half-covered and confined by the great plumed bonnet, with its crest
dropping backward, is a disguise not to be detected. The proud savage
doffs his eagle plumes to no living man; and even the most intrusive
Mormon would not dare to scrutinise too closely the _coiffure_ of an
Indian warrior. The plan was rendered further practicable, by a new and
able ally enlisting himself into our ranks. This was the trapper,
Archilete, who, from a hint given him by the Utah chief, at once
volunteered to act as the guide. The Mexican had already conceived an
instinctive antipathy towards the Mormon "hereticos;" and we might rely
upon his fidelity to our cause. The scheme exactly suited the eccentric
character of this singular man; and he entered upon his duties _con
amore_, and at once. By his assistance we soon procured the required
costumes and pigments; but neither were to be "put on" in the presence
of the Utahs. It was necessary that Wa-ka-ra should not be compromised
by a too conspicuous "intervention."
The friendly chief had hinted a further promise to Marian--even an open
interference in our favour--should that become necessary. He would
follow close after the Mormon train; and, should our design prove a
failure, might _then use his influence_ on our behalf. This would have
been the best news of all. With such a prospect, we should have had
little to fear for the result; but alas! before leaving the ground, an
incident occurred that threatened to prevent our generous ally from
fulfilling that promise, however formally he might have made it.