Grey nodded.
"Wan, two, seex winter mebbe, Injun bah-bee velly seek. Heem no get well. Me no feex 'um. Me velly seek here," and he placed his hand over his heart. "Me t'ink bah-bee die. White man, beeg, beeg Chief, heem come 'long. Heem see bah-bee. Heem do all sam dis," and he knelt upon the ground. "Heem savvey all sam Medicine Man. Heem mak Injun bah-bee well. Heem no tak monee. Heem good man. No, no, me no tak monee. Me all sam white man."
"You savvey white man?" the constable asked.
"Ah, ah."
Grey was about to question further when the Indian gave a sudden start, and pointed to the left. Following the direction of the finger the constable noticed a man astride a cayuse on the high bank of the river about two hundred yards away. Whether a white man or an Indian Grey could not tell, but he appeared to be watching them very closely. This incident, trifling as it seemed, aroused in Grey a feeling of apprehension. So intent had he been upon the child that he had almost forgotten his fears concerning the Hishu region and the characters he knew had their abode there. Perhaps this was one of them. Anyway it was as well to hurry forward out of that desolate place before night shut down.
Hour after hour they plodded steadily forward, their eyes and ears keenly sensitive to any sound or sight of the strange horseman. Once only did he reappear. They had paused for a brief rest in a valley, and to drink of a stream whose water ran icy cold from the mountains, when he had suddenly darted out from a hill above and peered down upon them. The Indian had laid his hand upon his rifle, and whispered, "Me feex 'um." But Grey shook his head, and the native had desisted. Although he felt that the rider was following them for some sinister purpose, it would not do to enter Hishu as blood-stained travellers. And, besides, there was the strict command instilled into every new recruit not to shoot first. "Get your man," was the brief stern order. "If you don't get him, it means three months' hard, and if you shoot him it is all the same, with perhaps dismissal tacked on." No, Grey was not going to run counter to such orders. Anyway, what good would it do? Perhaps after all this was a harmless horseman, watching them out of mere curiosity.
He thought of these things through that long afternoon. Would the trail never end? It seemed like a week since they had left the camp. The child slept much of the time in those tireless dusky arms. Occasionally he awoke with a cry of fright, and the annoying cough would sweep upon him. He was becoming weaker, Grey could see that, and his heart ached as he watched the limp, pathetic figure, and the face all too white. "What must be a mother's love?" he asked himself over and over again. "If this little lad I have known such a short time appeals to me so strongly, how must she feel who suffered for his sake, and watched over him for three years?" At such times his hands would grip hard the rifle, and a scowl would furrow his brow as he inwardly cursed the villains who had torn away this sweet, innocent child from his mother's tender keeping.
The sun was swinging low in the heavens as slowly and wearily they at length toiled up a steep incline and reached the brow of a high hill. Here the Indian paused, and pointed to the opposite side of the valley lying snugly below. Grey, following the direction of the outstretched arm beheld several log buildings, nestling among the trees on the farther hillside. To the left flowed the Hishu River, glimpses of which could be easily observed from their high vantage ground.
"Hishu," the Indian quietly remarked. "Ketch 'um bime by."
Grey's heart thrilled as he shaded his eyes and scanned the little settlement. And this was Hishu, the spot toward which his face had been turned for weary days. He smiled as he thought of the wild blood-curdling Indian tales he had heard. What of the savage Indians and the monsters of the mountains? How tame and commonplace everything seemed, and Hishu was only that straggling cluster of houses over there in the distance. It was simply a mining camp, and no doubt all of the rascals who had kidnapped the child had gone down in the Klikhausia Rapids. His heart was lighter than it had been for days, and he descended the hill with a new springing gait. He began to see the end of his venture, the quiet return to Big Glen, and the child safely restored to his mother.