Forgetting his own peril and without one word to Dan he sprang from his hiding place, and bounded across the open. He had almost reached the old man when he saw him reel and then pitch headlong with widely extended arms among the rugged rocks. Grey was by his side in an instant. He seized the man and raised him somewhat from the ground with the hope of carrying him away. But, strong though he was, he had not sufficient strength to bear such a burden. Rising to his feet he lifted up his hands to the natives. Would they not understand—would they not heed such an appeal? Surely their hearts were not altogether turned to stone. There must be some spark of nobleness mingled with their savage nature. In fact the fire did slacken, and it seemed as if the Indians were about to cease their strife for a while. But alas! his hope was in vain. He suddenly felt the ground reel beneath him. A horrible blackness rose before his eyes. He tried to stand. He groped about for an instant. He tottered, and then fell forward unconscious upon the prostrate form at his feet.
CHAPTER XXV THE HEART OF A WOMAN
After Charles Nordis, the missionary, had hurriedly left the room Madeline listened intently for a few minutes. Hearing nothing more she concluded that the matter was of little importance. She knew how easily Indian women were excited and ready at times to believe almost anything, whether an unsubstantial dream or the wild imaginings of an overheated brain. Her mind gradually turned to other things. She thought of the old man and of the lonely life he must have led since his wife's death; of Nadu, and often her eyes would turn toward the picture upon the wall. But she thought mostly of Norman and Donnie. What had happened to them? How she longed to have the child close by her side again. It grieved her to think that he was somewhere out in the wilderness among the Indians, with no one to comfort him or to soothe his cries. But surely Norman would find him—he would if it were possible—she felt sure of that.
During the past six terrible years the hope that Norman would come and save her had buoyed her up. She clung to the idea like a drowning person. He had always been her hero, and often she had pictured him seizing her in his strong arms and carrying her away from her uncongenial surroundings. And he had come, had looked upon her, and believed her to be unworthy of his love. He had saved her from the icy waters, but that was only by chance. He had followed her, but only for the sake of the child whom he was in duty bound to seek. He would return, no doubt, bringing the lad with him. Then he would take the little one to Big Glen, and leave her in the wilderness. Why had he not left her to die in the rapids? It would have been more merciful. But would he speak to her when he returned? she wondered. Would he give her a chance to explain or would words be unnecessary? He had seen her living with Old Meg, and perhaps that would be sufficient to poison his mind against her. But he had touched her in the water. He had enfolded her in his arms as he carried her to the house. Did he look into her face, and loathe the burden that he bore? The thought was almost more than she could endure. She felt so tired, and she closed her eyes in an effort to shut out the many scenes which were moving like horrible spectres before her mind.
A pretty picture she presented as she lay there. Her loose dark-brown hair was tossed over cheek and pillow. Her face was white and worn, for the experiences of the last few days had left their mark. She had struggled hard, and had endured without a murmur. Her prayers during the whole of this ordeal of years had been a pitiful, intense pleading to the Great Father for help. And what was the answer? Nothing but silence! Thrown among savages, and cast off by the very one upon whom she had most relied, what was left to her now? Hope gone, to return no more forever!
She lay very still for a time, and was only aroused by Nancy du Nord entering the room. Fear was still depicted upon the Indian woman's face, and she cast furtive glances around as if expecting pursuit.
"What is it, Nancy?" Madeline questioned, surprised at her agitated manner.
"Hishus! Hishus!" she cried. "Dey come! Dey kill! Oh! Oh! Oh!"