The Blackfoot came to the conclusion, in the course of the night, that it would be better to cross the mountains at a pass near the waters of the Missouri than to remain on the eastern side of the range. The route, therefore, was again changed toward the west.
When morning came, they halted to prepare some food. Flora was so exhausted by loss of sleep, and by the long and rapid ride of the night, that she needed rest; but she was so fearful and excited that she was unable to snatch a few moments’ sleep. She sat by the fire, and conversed with Wilder, while White Shield, moody and meditative, sat apart, and smoked in silence.
“I hope you have forgiven me,” she said, “for distrusting you when you first offered me your assistance. I heard that you had joined the Blackfeet, and I was afraid of you.”
“Perhaps you were afraid that I would fall in love with you, and that I would try to push George Benning from the throne. You need not have entertained such a fear, as it is not at all likely that I will fall in love with you.”
“That is consoling, if not complimentary.”
“You are beautiful enough, no doubt; but I believe I am proof against beauty. If you happened to have a sister, and if she happened to be as beautiful as yourself, and a little older, and not quite so highly civilized, I might fancy her; but you are not wild enough, Miss Robinette, for Fred Wilder.”
“Unfortunately, I have no sister. I hardly know for which I ought to be the most grateful, for my deliverance from the Indians, or for your kindness in not falling in love with me.”
“It must be a satisfaction to know that you have not jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire. But this is too serious a subject to joke about, Miss Robinette. You are not safe yet. It is a long journey to the rendezvous, and God only knows what enemies we may meet before we reach it. The Blackfeet, too, will be likely to follow us; but I hope we have too good a start to let them overtake us.”
“We ought to make sure that we escape, at least. Ought we not to continue our journey?”
“I suppose we must, if you really can not rest. My Blackfoot brother seems to be getting uneasy.”