There was trouble, too, from another source. Their supply of provisions, never at any time large, was becoming much reduced. Since the arrival of the Chilcats the hunters had not gone to the hills after sheep, and now it was impossible to leave the Post. A few days at the most would see them almost on the verge of starvation unless they could add something to their larder, which under the circumstances did not seem very probable. It was, therefore, but natural that a deep feeling of dissatisfaction should prevail among the men. They felt that they had been badly treated, and blamed Dan for bringing them into the country. They had come for trading purposes, and not to fight Indians. They would not have minded a skirmish now and then with the natives if the advantage had been all on their own side. But to be surrounded by a strong implacable enemy, and to be cooped up like prisoners, with an insufficient supply of food was galling in the extreme. They did not complain to Dan, but aired their grievances among themselves.
Natsatt knew but little of what was taking place, as they did not admit him into their confidence. They were naturally jealous of the half-breed, for they noted how Dan talked much to the young man, and seemed to enjoy having him with him more than the others. But Natsatt did not worry over what his companions felt or said. It was Owindia who occupied his mind, and the one purpose of his life was to reach, and rescue her from the Chilcats. Dan would not give his permission to leave again, he was quite sure of that. Nothing could be done during the day, so he must wait until night.
The long afternoon wore slowly away, and it seemed to Natsatt that the sun was longer than usual disappearing beyond the tree tops. Slowly it settled and at length darkness stole over the land. Then Natsatt was free and ready for action. He had been relieved of guard and there was no work within the Post demanding his attention. His companions were seated in the building, enjoying their after supper smoke, so he slipped quietly away, and moved toward the fortification close to the river. He could have gone out by the door, but that would have betrayed his scheme, besides imperilling his companions in case the Indians suddenly arrived and found the door unfastened. During the afternoon he had thought out his plan of escape. He would mount one of the large wooden poles which supported the barricade from the inside, and thus scale the wall. The darkness covered his movement, and as he made very little noise the men on guard were not aware of what was taking place near at hand. It did not take him long to spring with the agility of a wild cat up the long leaning brace, and from there to the top of the pointed posts above. With some difficulty he threw himself over and holding fast by his hands lowered himself to his full arms' length. Then dropping quickly to the ground, he sped away among the trees, and hid for a brief space among a friendly thicket of fir bushes. He was armed with pistol, hunting knife, and small axe, so he did not fear an attack of one or even two Chilcats. But he must keep clear of the main body of the enemy, for against them he would have no chance at all.
To one less accustomed to the forest the difficulty and peril of the undertaking would have been almost unbearable. But Natsatt was at home in the darkest night amid the wilderness. The black objects whether stumps or stones which stood out with startling weirdness, had no terror for him. It was necessary for him to be extremely cautious lest he should stumble unawares upon the enemy. Carefully he groped his way among the trees, keeping close to the river, as he believed that the Chilcats would come more in a straight line toward the Post. He was thankful that he had escaped the vigilance of the spies, who no doubt were lurking somewhere near. On and on he moved, gliding with swiftness from tree to tree, and always peering watchfully ahead. When he believed that he was opposite the Chilcat camp, he turned sharply to the left. Before him lay the ridge of ragged rocks, on the side of which Owindia had made her escape from the few Indians who had lured her thither. Over almost the same place where the fire had been Natsatt moved, little knowing what had recently taken place there but a short time before.
Nearing at length the camping ground he advanced more cautiously and partly expected to see the light of a fire darting among the trees. But in this he was disappointed. Nothing but intense blackness surrounded him. He began to wonder what had become of the Indians. Had they all gone to the Post, and were they already surrounding the place ready to make their night attack? If so what had become of Owindia? Surely they had not taken her with them!
He paused for a while to listen, but nothing could he hear, except the beating of his own heart. He was about to move forward when a sound fell upon his ears which stayed his steps and sent the blood coursing rapidly through his veins. It was the voice of some one singing, and in an instant he knew it must be none other than Owindia's. He could not catch the words though the tune was familiar. Why was she singing? he wondered, and where could she be? Not by a fire, that was evident, or else he should have seen the light. Had she been left behind, and was she singing to keep up her courage? The thought that she was alone gave him a thrill of joy. He could reach her side, talk to her, and induce her to come with him back to the Post.
Hesitating no longer he made straight for the place from whence the sound came. The song still continued, and ere long he was but a short distance away. He peered through the darkness but could see nothing. The song suddenly ceased and all was quiet. Natsatt's heart beat fast, and he called "Owindia, Owindia," in a low voice. Receiving no response he raised his voice a little louder, but still no answer. Thinking it very strange that he could get no reply, and feeling sure that Owindia was but a few steps away, he felt in his pocket, found a match, and struck it. As the light flared up he looked eagerly around, expecting to see her standing before him. The trees stood on every hand silent and grim, though nowhere could he see the maiden. A feeling of awe crept into his heart as the tiny light died out in his fingers. Had something happened to Owindia? he wondered, and was this her spirit haunting the forest? He took a few steps forward, and then pausing, struck another match. This time his effort was rewarded, for as the light illumined the darkness for a few seconds his eyes rested upon the form of the maiden standing upright against a fir-tree about three paces to his right.