For several days after the departure of Captain Flint, the inmates of
the cavern felt no uneasiness at his absence; but when day after day
passed, until more than a week had elapsed without his making his
appearance they began to be alarmed.
It had uniformly been the practice of Captain Flint on leaving the
cave, to give Lightfoot charges to remain there until his return, and
not to allow any one to enter, or pass out during his absence.
This charge she had strictly obeyed.
Singularly enough he had said nothing about it the last time. This,
however, made no difference with Lightfoot, for if she thought of it
at all, she supposed that he had forgotten it. Still she felt no
disposition to disobey his commands, although her feelings towards
him, since his late brutal treatment had very much changed.
But their provisions were giving out, and to remain in the cavern much
longer, they must starve to death. Lightfoot therefore resolved to go
in search of the means of preventing such a catastrophe, leaving the
others to remain in the cave until her return.
On attempting to pass out, she found to her horror that the way was
barred against her from the outside.
In fact, they were buried alive!
In vain she endeavored to force her way out. The entrance had been too
well secured.
There seemed to be no alternative but to await patiently the return of
the captain.
Failing in that, they must starve to death!
Their supply of provisions was not yet quite exhausted, and they
immediately commenced putting themselves on short allowance, hoping by
that means to make them last until relief should come.
While the two women were sitting together, talking over the matter,
and endeavoring to comfort each other, Hellena noticing the plain gold
ring on the finger of Lightfoot, that had been placed there by Captain
Flint during her quarrel with the Indian, asked to be allowed to look
at it.
On examining the ring, she at once recognized it as the one worn by
her lost lover.
Her suspicions in regard to Flint were now fully confirmed. She was
satisfied that he was in some way concerned in the sudden
disappearance of the missing man.
Could it be possible that he had been put out of the way by this
villain, who, for some reason unknown to any but himself, was now
desirous of disposing of her also?
The thought filled her with horror.
That night the two women retired to rest as usual. It was a long time
before sleep came to their relief. But it came at last.
The clock which the pirates had hung in the cave, struck twelve, when
Hellena started from her slumber with a suppressed cry, for the figure
she had seen in the vision many nights ago, stood bending over her!
But now it looked more like a being of real flesh and blood, than a
spectre. And when it spoke to her, saying, "has the little paleface
maiden forgotten; no, no!" she recognized in the intruder, her old
friend the Indian chief, Fire Cloud.
Hellena, the feelings of childhood returning, sprang up, and throwing
her arms around the old chief, exclaimed:
"Save me, no, no, save me!"
Lightfoot was by this time awake also, and on her feet. To her the
appearance of the chief seemed a matter of no surprise. Not that she
had expected anything of the kind, but she looked upon the cave as a
place of enchantment, and she believed that the spirits having it in
charge, could cause the walls to open and close again at pleasure. And
she recognized Fire Cloud as one of the chiefs of her own tribe. He
was also a descendant of one of its priests, and was acquainted with
all the mysteries of the cavern.
He told the prisoners that he had come to set them at liberty, and
bade them follow.
They had got everything for their departure, when they observed for
the first time that Black Bill was missing.
They could not think of going without him, leaving him there to
perish, but the cavern was searched for him in vain. His name was
called to no better purpose, till they were at last compelled to go
without him, the chief promising to return and make another search for
him, all of which was heard by the negro from his hiding place under
the pile of skins as related in the preceding chapter.
The chief, to the surprise of Hellena, instead of going to what might
be called the door of the cavern, went to one of the remote corners,
and stooping down, laid hold of a projection of rock, and gave it a
sudden pressure, when a portion of the wall moved aside, disclosing a
passage, till then unknown to all except Fire Cloud himself. It was
one of the contrivances of the priests of the olden time, for the
purpose of imposing upon the ignorant and superstitious multitude.
On passing through this opening, which the chief carefully closed
after him, the party entered a narrow passageway, leading they could
not see where, nor how far.
The Indian led the way, carrying his torch, and assisting them over
the difficulties of the way, when assistance was required.
Thus he led them on, over rocks, and precipices, sometimes the path
widening until it might be called another cavern, and then again
becoming so narrow as to only allow one to pass at a time.
Thus they journeyed on for the better part of a mile, when they
suddenly came to a full stop. Further progress appeared to be
impossible.
It seemed to Hellena that nothing short of an enchanter's wand could
open the way for them now, when Fire Cloud, going to the end of the
passage, gave a large slab which formed the wall a push on the lower
part, causing it to rise as if balanced by pivots at the center, and
making an opening through which the party passed, finding themselves
in the open air, with the stars shining brightly overhead.
As soon as they had passed out the rock swung back again, and no one
unacquainted with the fact, would have supposed that common looking
rock to be the door of the passage leading to the mysterious cavern.
The place to which they now came, was a narrow valley between the
mountains.
Pursuing their journey up this valley, they came to a collection of
Indian wigwams, and here they halted, the chief showing them into his
own hut, which was one of the group.
Another time, it would have alarmed Hellena Rosenthrall to find
herself in the wilderness surrounded by savages.
But now, although among savages far away from home, without a white
face to look upon, she felt a degree of security, she had long been a
stranger to.
In fact she felt that the Indians under whose protection she now found
herself, were far more human, far less cruel, than the demon calling
himself a white man, out of whose hands she had so fortunately
escaped.
For once since her capture, her sleep was quiet, and refreshing.