Suddenly from within it there came a muffled cry, then the tent began to pitch and toss. Evidently a savage struggle was going on within.
But it was all so silent that had Ted not been within striking distance of it, he would not have heard anything of it.
Suddenly the tent flew apart, and Woofer appeared, carrying in his arms the insensible form of the Indian girl.
Woofer was a very powerful man, and he ran swiftly from the tent bearing the girl in his arms as if she were a child.
Ted dashed after him. It did not occur to him to raise an alarm.
But as swiftly as he ran, Woofer had the better of him, for a few strides took him out of Ted's sight.
Ted stopped and listened, blaming himself for not closing with Woofer sooner.
Not a sound of Woofer's retreat came to his ears.
Suddenly he heard a nicker at his elbow almost, and looked around. It was Sultan, who had smelled him, and had come to him, and was now rubbing his velvety nose against Ted's sleeve.
In an inspiration Ted leaped upon his back, and caught the headstall, which he always left on Sultan when he turned him loose in the night so that he could get him in a hurry should there be a night alarm of any sort.