To her joy she found that the prisoner was alone. To make an opening in the rear of his prison-hut and creep inside, was the work of a moment.
An idea of her extreme caution and skill may be formed from the fact, that as yet the two plotters watching for her appearance were not aware of her return.
No sooner had she entered the hut, than she closed the aperture and crept toward White Fox, who was sitting upright. He heard and suspected her. He had in fact hoped to receive her aid, and had rightly supposed she was not ignorant of his situation. The thought that she was near caused the blood to course through his veins like wildfire. But suddenly, a warrior appeared in the door, and Moorooine sunk behind the one she loved, as noiseless as a shadow!
The warrior stood a moment, and then entered, peering around the gloomy interior. Pausing before the prisoner, he assured himself that the latter’s wrists and ankles were well secured and then passed out again among the excited throng.
The moment he disappeared, Moorooine glided beside the aroused ranger and quickly severed the thongs about his wrists.
“Don’t stir till I tell you!” she whispered. “Me go out first an’ find best way to git off an’ cheat warriors.”
“God bless ye, my own sweet Wild Flower,” said the young man, fervently, as he pressed her heaving bosom against his own, and his lips to hers. “You risk your life for mine.”
“Mustn’t—no time now,” she said, releasing herself. “Put hands together again as before; use this knife to loose feet when time come.”
He obeyed her instantly. The noise outside precluded their being heard. They might be seen, though the guard having just passed out after looking at the prisoner, it was not probable he would soon return. But both kept a sharp watch as they talked.
“If I escape, you go with me,” said Brom.