THE ESCAPE.
Red Cedar had seen his son tied up, from the tree where he was concealed. This sight suddenly stopped him; he found himself just over the Comanche camp, in a most perilous situation, as the slightest false movement, by revealing his presence, would be sufficient to destroy him. Sutter and Fray Ambrosio in turn parted the branches and looked down at Nathan, who certainly was far from suspecting that the persons he had left on the previous day were so near him.
In the meanwhile the shadows gradually invaded the clearing, and soon all objects were confounded in the gloom, which was rendered denser by the gleam of the fires lighted from distance to distance, and which shed an uncertain light around. The squatter did not love his son; for he was incapable of feeling affection for more than one person, and it was concentrated on Ellen. Nathan's life or death, regarded in the light of paternal love, was of very slight consequence to him; but in the situation where his unlucky star placed him, he regretted his son, as one regrets a jolly comrade, a bold man and clever marksman—an individual, in short, who can be relied on in a fight.
We need not here describe Red Cedar's resolute character, for the reader is acquainted with it. Under these circumstances, a strange idea crossed his brain; and as, whenever he had formed a resolution, nothing could stop it, and he would beard all dangers in carrying it out, Red Cedar had resolved on delivering his son, not, we repeat through any paternal love, but to have a good rifle more, in the very probable event that he should have to fight.
But it was not an easy matter to liberate Nathan. The young man was far from suspecting that at the moment he was awaiting worse than death, his father was only a few paces from him, preparing everything for his flight. This ignorance might compromise the success of the daring stroke the squatter intended to attempt.
The latter, before undertaking anything, called his two companions to him and imparted his plan to them. Sutter, adventurous and rash as his father, applauded the resolve. He only saw in the bold enterprise a trick to be played on his enemies, the redskins, and rejoiced, not at carrying off his brother from among them, but at the faces they would cut when they came to fetch their prisoner to fasten him to the stake and no longer found him.
Fray Ambrosio regarded the question from a diametrically opposite point of view: their position, he said, was already critical enough, and they ought not to render it more perilous by trying to save a man whom they could not succeed in enabling to escape, and which would hopelessly ruin them, by informing the redskins of their presence.
The discussion between the three adventurers was long and animated, for each obstinately held to his opinion. They could not come to an agreement; seeing which, Red Cedar peremptorily cut short all remarks by declaring that he was resolved to save his son, and would do so, even if all the Indians of the Far West tried to oppose it. Before a resolution so clearly intimated, the others could only be silent and bow their heads, which the monk did. The trapper then prepared to carry out his design.
By this time, the shades of night had enveloped the prairie in a black winding sheet; the moon, which was in her last quarter, would not appear before two in the morning; it was now about eight in the evening, and Red Cedar had six hours' respite before him, by which he intended to profit. Under circumstances so critical as the adventurers were now placed, time is measured with the parsimony of the miser parting with his treasure, for five minutes wasted may ruin everything.
The night became more and more gloomy; heavy black clouds, charged with electricity, dashed against each other and intercepted the light of the stars; the evening breeze had risen at sunset, and whistled mournfully through the branches of the primæval forest. With the exception of the sentries placed round the camp, the Indians were lying round the decaying fires, and, wrapped in their buffalo robes, were soundly asleep. Nathan, securely tied, slept or feigned to sleep. Two warriors, lying not far from him, and ordered to watch him, seeing their prisoner apparently so resigned to his fate, at length yielded to slumber.