Flora was careful not to go near Dove-eye when she returned to the
lodge on the cliff. She was so much excited at meeting Benning, that
she knew her friend would notice her state of mind and inquire the
cause, and she was by no means sure that it would be good policy to
inform the Indian girl of the plot that had been laid to destroy her
tribe.
She went, therefore, as quickly as possible, to the cave in which Fred
Wilder was concealed, and astonished that young man by bursting in upon
him suddenly.
“What is the matter, Miss Robinette?” he asked. “You look as if you had
seen a ghost; but it must have been a pleasant one, to judge from your
countenance.”
She astonished him again, by running to the entrance, and peering
out carefully, to see if any one was in sight or hearing, before she
composed herself sufficiently to take a seat by his side and answer his
question.
“I have not seen a ghost,” she replied; “but I have seen a man. White
Shield is alive and safe.”
“That is nothing very wonderful. I was not afraid that the Arapahoes
would rub out that red-skin, and I expected to hear from him before
long. Is that all?”
“George Benning is here. I saw him this morning.”
“Ah! That accounts for the milk in the cocoanut. No wonder you are
excited. What has he been doing this long time? Is he alone?”
“He has been searching for me, and he has a band of Crow warriors to
back him, and we are all going to be released and carried home, and I
have told him what to do.”
“You would not be so confident of release, I suppose, unless you had
told him what to do. Pray tell me what instructions you gave him.”
Flora detailed the plan of the proposed ambuscade and attack upon the
Arapahoes as they returned from their visit to the medicine-lodge.
Wilder listened with a pleased countenance, but became grave at last.
“Very well planned!” he said. “No one could have hit upon a better
idea. There is only one difficulty.”
“What is that?”
“Dove-eye.”
“I have not told her.”
“No; and you must not. Of course it would not do to trust her with the
plan of a campaign against her own people. My only fear is that she
will be killed in the melée, or will fly with the rest.”
Flora’s countenance fell. She had not thought of this.
“Could I not watch her?” she suggested.
“No. You must stay here with me; because such are your orders, and
because you must keep out of danger. You would only run the risk of
another captivity. It is very selfish in me, Miss Robinette; but I
almost feel like wishing that this help had not come, and that we were
not to be released. As it is, I am helpless, and must take my chances.”
“Could I not give her a hint that you wished her to remain?”
“It would be impossible to do so without disclosing your design, and
you must be very careful of your looks as well as your words, or she
will guess it. Don’t let my selfishness trouble you. You must know that
I did not speak in earnest.”
Flora left the little cave with a heavy heart. It went hard with her to
give pain to the man who had rescued her from the Blackfeet, and who
had always shown himself so kind and considerate. She had not thought
of the possibility of being separated from Dove-eye, when she and
Wilder should be released, and the thought troubled her when it was
forced upon her. Dove-eye would not then have guessed, from her joyful
and excited manner, that she had received some very good tidings; on
the contrary, she would have been likely to ask what had happened
to make her so sad and woebegone. But the Indian girl was too much
occupied in preparations for the morrow to notice the changes in the
demeanor of her friend.
The day passed off pretty much as usual, and at night the old
medicine-man went into a trance. That is, he stretched himself out in
state in the principal room of the lodge, and Dove-eye declared that he
had gone to the spirit-land. José was sent to the village to inform the
warriors that they might come and visit him, and Flora, after a tender
leave-taking with Dove-eye, repaired to Wilder’s cave.
She seated herself by the side of the invalid, and waited anxiously
and impatiently for the issue of her plans. Wilder told her that a
yell would be the signal of the onset, and both listened, eagerly and
painfully, for the savage slogan.
Wilder said nothing more of his fears concerning the probable loss of
Dove-eye, and Flora did not mention the subject. Both were too much
absorbed in listening for the yell, which she longed but almost dreaded
to hear. When it came, at last, their nerves had been so strained by
their long suspense, that it fell upon them like a thunderbolt.
The Arapaho warriors had come from the village, in a long and solemn
procession, to look upon their great medicine-man, who, as they firmly
believed, had the power of going to the spirit-land and returning
whenever he chose to do so--in others words, of dying and coming to
life. George Benning and White Shield had stationed the band of Crows
in a ravine near which the procession must pass, and the warriors from
the north gazed from their hiding-place at their enemies, gloating over
the rich prospect of scalps.
The Arapahoes entered the lodge on the cliff, and looked at the old
medicine-man as he lay stretched out on his couch, with his eyes closed
and his face of a ghastly color, to all appearances dead. As they
defiled past him, they pulled his hair, they pinched him, they pricked
him with their knives; but the figure lay cold and motionless, without
sign of life, and they were satisfied that he was dead.
When all had seen him, they set out to return to the village, in slow
and solemn procession as they had come, leaving Dove-eye alone with the
old man. As he usually lay in the trance until noon, and there was time
enough, the girl thought that she might as well pay a visit to Flora
and Wilder.
She took a parting look at the old man, and was about to leave the
lodge when she was startled by a shot from the valley below, followed
by a series of wild and unearthly yells. Then came a volley of musket
and rifle-shots, with screams of pain and rage; and shouts of triumph
and vengeance.
She knew well what it meant. She knew that the Arapahoes had been
attacked by a hostile tribe, and she stood irresolute, when the
medicine-man, to her great surprise, leaped from his couch, and ran out
at the door to see what was the matter.
Dove-eye followed him, and as they looked down into the valley, they
stood aghast at the scene which presented itself to their astonished
eyes. The Arapahoes, taken at a disadvantage, and mostly unarmed, had
been seized with a panic that could not be checked. But few remained
to fight, and these were rapidly falling under the weapons of their
adversaries. The rest were flying, helter-skelter, in every direction,
some up into the hills, some toward the village, and some into the
recesses of the ravines, followed by the victorious Crows.
Among those who scampered up the hills was a tall and stalwart warrior,
with blood streaming from his head and breast. As he came in sight of
the old man and the girl, he warned them to fly, as his pursuers were
close behind, and they turned and ran into the lodge.
The warrior did not follow them, but ran on until he came to the cave
in which Flora Robinette and Fred Wilder were concealed. He must have
known the place, for he went direct to the entrance, although it was
hidden by bushes. The painted skin made him hesitate a moment; but he
tore it aside and entered the cave.
Flora and Wilder were not a little startled at the sudden entrance of
this bleeding and panting savage. The girl screamed, and stepped closer
to the invalid, forgetting that he was even more helpless than herself.
The Arapaho was also astonished; but the light of vengeance began to
gleam in his wild eyes; he could at least have the satisfaction of
slaying a pale-face before he died.
Wilder, who divined his intention, put out his unbandaged arm, as if he
would shield Flora from violence. At the same time he was cool enough
to notice a gray scalp that hung from the Indian’s waist-belt, and he
was sure that he knew that scalp. How he longed, in that brief moment,
to be free and strong again, instead of lying there, unable to move,
compelled to submit to whatever fate the infuriated savage should
choose to visit upon him and the almost equally helpless being at his
side!
He had little time for reflection. The Arapaho sprung forward and
seized the young lady, whom he dragged from the couch. Pulling back
her head by the hair, he raised his knife, with threatening look and
gesture. Flora sent forth scream upon scream, and Wilder, nearly beside
himself with rage, shouted for help at the top of his voice.
The Indian’s blow was never struck. A form came bounding into the
little cave; a tomahawk sunk, with a harsh, dull sound, into the skull
of the Arapaho; and Flora was lifted in the arms of George Benning.
Behind the partisan came White Shield, who coolly proceeded to relieve
the fallen warrior of his scalp.
Flora had fainted, and Benning’s attention could not be withdrawn
from her until she recovered her consciousness. Then he turned to the
invalid, who had spoken to him.
“You were just in time, Benning,” said Wilder. “I was helpless here,
and the red-skin had it all his own way. You have not only saved the
life of Miss Robinette, but have gained something else. Do you see a
gray scalp in that fellow’s belt? Take it out and keep it as you would
your life, for much depends upon it.”
Benning obeyed, and looked at Flora as he did so.
“Is this the scalp you spoke to me about?” he asked.
“I suppose so,” she replied. “Mr. Wilder knows.”
“Do you wish me to keep it?”
“Yes, indeed--that is, it will be safer with you, I think.”
“Why must it be kept?”
“My father wished--indeed, I don’t really know, but it must not be
lost.”
“I will take care of it. And now we must leave this place. The
Arapahoes have been badly whipped, and are scattered over the country;
but they will get together again, and they may give us trouble. You
can’t move, I see, Wilder, but you can be carried, no doubt.”
Wilder looked at Flora, and muttered the name of Dove-eye.
“What does he mean?” asked Benning.
Flora told him, in a few words, about the Indian girl, and explained
the reason of Wilder’s anxiety concerning her.
“We will go and look for her,” said Benning. “She can’t be far away.
You will be safe with me now, and White Shield can stay and take care
of Silverspur.”