"Take me away, Kut-le! Take me away!"
He soothed her with great tenderness.
"Dear one!" he murmured. "Dear one!" and she closed her eyes quietly.
During this time the Indians sat silent and watchful. Kut-le turned to Alchise.
"You cursed fool!" he said.
"She get well now," replied Alchise anxiously. "Alchise save her for you. Molly tell you where come."
For a moment Kut-le stared at Alchise; then, as if realizing the futility of speech, "Come!" he said, and ignoring the other Indians, he strode from the campos. Alchise and Cesca followed him, and outside the anxious Molly seized Rhoda's limp hand with a little cry of joy. Kut-le led the way to a quiet spot among the pines. Here he laid Rhoda on a sheepskin and covered her with a tattered blanket, the spoils of his previous night's trip.
About the middle of the morning Rhoda opened her eyes. As she stirred, Kut-le came to her.
"I've had such horrible dreams, Kut-le. You won't go and leave me to the Indians again?"
This appeal from Rhoda in her weakness almost overcame Kut-le but he only smoothed her tangled hair and answered: