"Well, I guess that's enough," she said, laughing. "But, I want you and Kit. The others can stay behind and 'tend the herd. We'll be back when we return." She waved a merry hand to the others, and the three strode into the woods, Bud bending eagerly forward to find the trail.
Presently Bud struck a moccasin trail, and they followed it until it mingled with another.
The first was undoubtedly that of Singing Bird. The other was that of a big man, or of a man with a big foot.
"I reckon she come out here ter find her mother's grave, an' met up with ther bully, her husband. Here they seem ter hev had a struggle, and then thar is only one track, but deeper, showin' that he was carryin' weight. I reckon he put his hand over her mouth an' carried her off by main strength."
"Poor Singing Bird," murmured Stella. "If she has really fallen into the hands of that brute, it's a sure thing that she'll be killed this time, and now we're bound to follow her and get her."
"That's interfering between a man and his wife," said Kit.
"I don't care. She's mine now, for I saved her life. She said so."
"All right, Stella, we'll find her if we swaller our chewin' gum. Forward!" Bud led the way, always with his eyes on the ground.
After traversing a few hundred yards he stopped.
"Here they're walkin' side by side again," he said, "and they're going toward the river."