In fact, White Shield came up at that moment, and told them that they must delay no longer, that Good Ax and his warriors would be on their trail, and that it was necessary to cross the mountains before they should be overtaken. They mounted, accordingly, and set forward at a smart pace.
A few hours’ ride found them fairly within the hills, and they halted on the summit of the highest they had reached, for a brief rest.
Their rest was very brief. The Blackfoot, looking back on their trail, pointed out to Wilder some dark objects that were speeding across the plain in the distance. It was soon evident that the dark objects were men on horseback, and that they were following the trail of the fugitives.
The white and red friends looked at each other. They knew that those Indians were Blackfeet who were bent upon their capture, and their looks denoted a determination to die rather than be taken.
“What shall we do, White Shield?” asked Wilder. “For my part, the Blackfeet shall not take me alive. I will fight them to the last.”
“White Shield will fight with his brother. He can do nothing else. The Blackfeet hate me worse than they hate you. If we were only men, we might escape; but we have a woman with us, and she is now very tired.”
Flora Robinette, who had listened to the conversation, and who had seen the approaching enemies, begged her friends to make haste to escape while there was time to do so. She was not tired, she said. She could ride as fast as they wished to ride, and they need not be afraid that she would hinder them.
“There is but one thing to do,” said the Blackfoot. “The pass is a difficult one, and there is a place at which one man can defend it against a hundred. We will stop there, my brother, and will fight.”
“Let us make haste, then, and reach it.”
The lapse of an hour found them in a narrow defile in the heart of the mountains. With difficulty they forced their horses up a steep incline, to the summit of the declivity, beyond which the trail was broad and easy. The Indian stopped and looked back, pointing down the defile.