But Swift Arrow did not deign to reply. He turned to the Englishmen, and with a few movements of his hunting-knife severed the cords that bound them.
"The stranger who has raised no arm against the redmen may not be bound in the camp of the Dacotahs. My brothers did wrong. The pale-faces will forgive my foolish people."
"We do not blame you. You are a good man, and Manito smiles upon the kind heart," returned Arnold quietly.
Thoroughly worn out with the events of the previous day as well as the exciting incidents of the night, the two friends were glad to be at liberty to return to their tent and stretch their tired limbs upon the robes that had been provided for them. The Indians had quickly dispersed at the bidding of old Swift Arrow, and soon the camp was once more in peace.
Little was said by either of the men as they lay down at opposite parts of the teepee, and it was not long before sleep came to the relief of weariness.
For a couple of hours or more the Englishmen were wrapt in deep slumber. Then, just as the grey dawn was beginning to chase the shadows from the forest, Holden suddenly awoke. It was not the calm awakening that follows refreshing rest, but that sudden return of the senses that one sometimes experiences accompanied by a horrible instinct of danger.
Holden sat up and looked round. Nothing strange was to be seen within the tent, and when he looked through the entrance all seemed peaceful without. The brown teepees were not even stirred by a morning breeze. Not a soul was to be seen, and it was too early even for the birds to sing their morning anthems.
He looked at Arnold, and saw that his friend was still enjoying profound rest. So, laughing at his own weakness, Holden returned to his robes and was soon dozing again.
Then a second time he wakened with the former conviction even stronger than before.
He raised himself on his right elbow, and as he did so was startled by a sound that is calculated to strike terror into the hearts of men quicker than the most formidable of human foes.