RED HATCHET'S REFUSAL.
The poor girl had hope with such a friend near as was Kit Carey, and
then came the knowledge of all the danger he was in, what would follow
discovery of who he was, and her dread for him was even greater than
for herself, and it seemed that in spite of her nerve and his dauntless
courage despair would creep into her breast.
There had been a fight with the soldiers up near the Pine Ridge Agency,
and some dead and wounded warriors had been brought into the retreat,
throwing the camps into a tumult of excitement.
Then came an attack of the Sioux upon a wagon-train passing near their
lines, and, though they had felt sure of victory, a party of cavalry
had come to the rescue, saved the Government stores and the lives of
the defenders of the wagons, and beaten off the Sioux.
That Not-Afraid-of-Death had killed his man the chief knew, and the
similarity in the name caused them to rejoice that Lieutenant Carey,
the white captain, had been killed, though they regretted that his
scalp had not been secured by the redskins, who, from a distance, had
seen the killing, yet dared not venture out to secure the trophy.
Who in turn had killed Not-Afraid-of-Death was a mystery which no
one could solve, though the scouts reported that it was one of the
officer's Indian soldiers lying in ambush.
That the cavalry had made a dash in and recovered the body of the
lieutenant, was also deeply regretted by the hostiles.
In the midst of all the tumult, following into camp had come a
horseman, who was known to be a pale-face in disguise.
He made no secret of the fact, gave a name which the Indians recognized
as that of a friend, and asked to see Red Hatchet.
That chief was called out of the council to speak with the stranger,
and regarded him with evident suspicion as he approached him.
"Red Hatchet, I am here to take back with me my sister, for I am White
Hawk."
The Red Hatchet knew him now by the name the Indians had given him, for
it was Herbert Bernard.
"The Snow Flower is safe with her Indian friends, and will remain. She
is in the keeping of the medicine chief," was the response of the Red
Hatchet.
"No, she must return with me to her home, for my father,
Eagle-that-Kills, has sent me for the Snow Flower."
"The Snow Flower is in the medicine tepee, and when she leaves there it
will be as the adopted daughter of the Sioux. She cannot go with the
White Hawk," was the rejoinder of the Red Hatchet.
Herbert Bernard crushed an oath between his teeth, and had he not
counted the result would have sprang upon the Indian chief then and
there.
But instead he said:
"Is the Red Hatchet no longer the friend of the Eagle-that-Kills, and
of the White Hawk, that he acts like a foe and steals from them the
Snow Flower whom they love so dearly?"
"The Red Hatchet did not steal the Snow Flower, for the White Hawk told
him to bring her here, and she came without force, for she loves the
Sioux, and her heart is given to Red Hatchet!"
The right hand of Herbert Bernard dropped upon a revolver, but he
wisely did not draw it.
He was wholly in the power of the Red Hatchet, and he felt anxious at
his position even among those who were his friends, for toward the
Bernards the Sioux had certainly shown no enmity.
"Will the Red Hatchet let the White Hawk see the Snow Flower?" he asked.
"No, for the Snow Flower is in the medicine tepee, and no one can see
her."
"The Red Hatchet is a traitor to his friend," was the reply of the
young settler, as he turned on his heel and walked away, the chief
uttering no word, or remonstrance.
As he had come, so he left the camp of the hostiles, mounted his
waiting horse, and returned by night to his home without seeing an
Indian scout or soldier, and if seen by any one, he was not disturbed.
It was just dawn when he reached his home, and having washed off his
paint and resumed his civilized garb, he sought his father.
The latter seemed to feel that he had been unsuccessful, for he
asserted, rather than asked:
"You came back alone?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"The Red Hatchet would not give her up."
"You saw him?"
"I did, and he refused."
"You saw Jennie?"
"No, for she was in the medicine lodge."
"Ah! that looks bad; but it shows that the Red Hatchet intends she
shall not be given up, but made a daughter of the tribe."
"So he said."
"Well, did you find out that the red fools intend to fight?"
"I was so disappointed that I asked nothing, returning at once."
"Well, that affair at Wounded Knee has infuriated the soldiers. Sitting
Bull, their head, has gone, they have had a fight at the agency,
attacked a train and were beaten off, and they killed that fellow
Carey----"
"Ha! is Kit Carey dead?" cried Herbert Bernard, eagerly.
"Yes, he ventured too near their lines, a courier told me, and was
killed."
"I am glad of that."
"Yes, it puts him out of your way as a rival; but possession is nine
points of the law, and Red Hatchet has Jennie in his power, and the
fool believes that the redskins will whip the soldiers."
"All of them do, and their medicine men tell them that the ghost shirts
will render them bullet-proof."
"Fools! poor deluded fools! But I must get the girl, and, perhaps, I
can persuade the chief to bury the hatchet--yes, it would be better
so, for Miles knows what he is about and has got them hemmed in
completely, and if the soldiers attack they will remember Custer and
his men, and show no mercy--yes, and avenge Kit Carey, too, for he was
the most popular officer in the army," said Vance Bernard, believing
that it was Kit Carey who had been killed, as did the Sioux themselves,
and also many in the army.
"Well, can you rescue Jennie?" impatiently asked the young man.
"Yes, and I will go to-night and do so," was the confident response of
the settler.