She raised her head, hearing his approach; and beholding, as she thought, the hated painted face of the “White Vulture,” she shrunk from him.
“Leona, do not scream!” said Dave, in a voice tremulous with emotion.
She did not scream, but murmured, “Saved—saved!”
“Yes, if human aid can save you,” said Dave, earnestly, pressing her to his breast.
“Come,” commanded the “Crow-Killer”; “no time to lose.”
No time indeed! for an Indian whoop rung out on the still air. Dave started, and Leona clung tighter to the breast of her lover.
Then there was a rush of footsteps by the lodge.
“Shall we venture?” said Dave.
“We mought as well,” replied Abe.
Then again came another prolonged whoop, this time answered by a dozen others, seemingly in rage.