CHAPTER XI.
DOVE-EYE.
Fred Wilder, after his involuntary leap, remained a long time insensible. When he awoke, he thought that he might as well have remained insensible. It was so dark that he could not see what sort of a place he was in. If he had seen, he could have not explored it, as he soon discovered that he was unable to move. He knew that his left leg was broken, and he feared that his left arm was as badly injured. He felt bruised and sore all over; but that was nothing; the wonder was that he was alive.
As he could not get away, he tried to resign himself to his situation; but the more he reflected upon it, the less resigned he became. The Indians, believing that he had been killed by the fall, would surely come to seek him as soon as it was light, and it would be impossible for him to escape. All his peril and suffering would be for nothing, as he would at last fall into their hands an unresisting victim.
Hours of darkness must have an end. Light will come, though suffering does not cease. Daylight came to Fred Wilder; but he could not feel that he ought to be thankful for it, as it would bring his enemies in search of him. It enabled him to see the location into which his lot and his body had fallen.
On one side was a precipice, so lofty that he shuddered as he thought of his fearful fall from its brink. Just around him was a green and grassy spot, upon the soft turf of which he had fallen. The grass stretched toward the east, until it melted into the prairie. In all other directions were ragged and rocky hills, beyond which towered grand mountain ranges.
It was near the head of a ravine that the young man had fallen. A crystal spring bubbled up near him, and its plentiful waters formed a little stream, that ran laughing down the ravine. By the side of the stream, a few steps from the wounded man, lay the body of the Indian dog that had been the cause of his trouble. Wilder smiled grimly as he looked at the dead animal.
“You are dead, then, you miserable little wretch,” he said. “There must be what my old tutor used to call a providential dispensation in this. I, who was the heaviest, have fallen upon a soft spot, and am alive. You, who were the lightest, and the most likely to survive the fall, struck your head upon a stone, and dashed out your wretched brains. It follows, that you were in the wrong, and I was in the right. Your death is a judgment upon you for having given me an overdose of bark. Ah, well! I ought not to exult over you, as my fix will be worse than yours.”
Having seen all that was within the range of his vision, Wilder had nothing to do but to make himself as easy as possible, and to wait for the coming of the Indians. This was unpleasant occupation, and he soon fretted himself into such a weak and feverish state, that he fainted.
When he again opened his eyes, a rare vision greeted them. By his side stood an Indian girl, who seemed to him, at that moment, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
Her features were perfect, and her complexion was a delicate brunette, very different from that of any forest maiden he had yet seen. She had not the high cheek-bones peculiar to the aboriginal race, and her nose was decidedly of the Grecian order. Her hair, too, though black as the raven’s wing, was wavy, with a strong inclination to curl. Her lips were rosy and rich, and there was an evident dimple on her chin; but her large brown eyes, as they were opened to their widest, with an expression of amazement and compassion, were to Wilder her most wonderful feature.