“Yes; go help you clear.”
“You must go with me for good, Moorooine. I want you always. You shall be my wife.”
“Talk of that when more time,” she said. “Go with you now first. Have to for always, s’pose, or else warriors kill me.”
“Be very careful. If you should be found out, they’d kill you. That would make my life bitter. You must not die for me.”
“Would willin’ if need,” she said, as she pressed his hand. “There—now must go, hurry. Be back very quick!”
She noiselessly crept through the aperture and closed it. Then, with great caution, she glided forward, and passed behind a huge bowlder, from which a path led down a declivity to the river. She darted down the path, and in five minutes returned. Her own canoe was in its accustomed place, and between the rows of lodges yet came the sounds of engrossing discussion. The moment had come.
With beating heart she approached the prison-hut. But two figures hovering near rose and barred her way. They were those of Hulet and the savage before mentioned! A feeling of the bitterest disappointment and dread filled her soul as she recognized Sly Hate, whom till now she thought killed. But she quailed not.
“Come this way,” said the Indian, who was called Heavy Sleep. The girl could but obey, and the trio moved further aside.
“Listen!” said Heavy Sleep, as they halted. “Sporting Fawn has been much in woods to-night to warn our enemies, who have killed many warriors. Sly Hate has seen you, so there is no chance to tell lies, if you would. None of the warriors know this yet but Heavy Sleep. If they should find out, then what?”
“Then I would be killed,” she answered, while a shudder passed over her. She knew the object of Heavy Sleep. He had long sought her hand, but in vain. He was accounted a cruel monster, even among his own tribe; capable of committing any atrocity to gratify revenge. Many hated him, while fearing his malice. And now he held the girl’s life in his hand, and well she knew the price he would ask for it. The thought of this was what made her shudder.