And the next minute the trapper was gone.
Left alone, Fred Wainwright looked cautiously about him, and then, so far as the gathering darkness of the imperfect light of the small camp-fire would permit, saw the position of matters. The Apaches had kindled a fire, and were cooking a large piece of meat over it; Florence was seated on the ground about a dozen feet back of them, not secured or bound in any manner.
Why need she be? What chance had she of fleeing? Was there ever a moment when the black eyes of an Apache were not fixed upon her, and were those of Cherouka ever removed? No; she was too sensible of thinking of such a step.
Yet as the keen eyes of the young hunter rested upon the scene, he saw there was an opportunity which might never come again. If she could only be apprised of the proximity of her friends, there was no reason why she should not give her enemies the slip. At any rate, he had looked but a few minutes when he determined to make the attempt.
Good fortune which had favored our friends so far, caused the encampment to be on the western side of the gorge, the same as that occupied by the hunters, and where now Fred Wainwright began creeping stealthily forward toward the captive.
He was too experienced a hunter to attempt anything like this, unless there was a good prospect of success. He was as certain, as any one could be of the most certain of all things, that when his friends were gathered together, and made a charge upon the Indians, they could scatter them like chaff, and retake Florence Brandon without the danger of a scratch to her. Consequently nothing like the present would be attempted, if there was cause for the least fear of precipitating matters.
Our hero reached a point about twenty feet not in the rear but at one side of the girl, and then paused to deliberate upon the best method of apprising her of his presence. Carefully scrutinizing everything around him, he finally searched on the ground until he found a small pebble which he tossed so dexterously that it dropped in her lap. She instantly raised her head and looked toward the Indians evidently thinking it came from them. This was the critical moment; and Fred improved it, by flinging another one as skilfully as before.
This accomplished its mission. Florence Brandon knew that a friend was near at hand, and she signified her understanding of matters by glancing quickly in the direction from which the pebble came and giving a quick wave of the hand.
“Good!” muttered the hunter, “she understands; she is as bright and keen as ever.”
Creeping still closer until he had reached a point, beyond which he dare not pass, he paused to make sure that his situation would admit his acting as he had determined to do in case he made an attempt to rescue the captive. Behind him the wood and shrubbery were of impenetrable darkness, so that he could maneuver in them to the best advantage.