“There was a panther’s whelp in the little valley we did not get. The Shawnees would dance his scalp ahead of all the hair growing in any of these valleys. He rode to the settlement ahead of me. But we shall get them now. We shall get him. Then we will see if his war-cry is strong when he feels fire.”
“Where is the white woman? Did you kill her?” I asked, and I had to fight myself to keep my voice from shaking.
Without deigning to answer he turned and walked over to Dale. At almost the same moment Patricia and Shelby Cousin’s sister entered the camp. Patricia walked ahead, the Cousin girl a few feet behind her. I forgot the cord and eagerly started to join her.
Ward snarled like an animal and jerked on the cord and pulled me violently back. Patricia glanced in our direction, and I saw her hand fly to her heart as she stared at me with lips parted. Black Hoof noticed this bit of drama, and wheeling about, he harshly commanded:
“Let Red Arrow remember I am chief. If the white man would talk to the white woman do not stop him. See that his hands are well tied and put hobbles on his legs.”
“If I had my way with you!” hissed Ward.
An Indian slipped the cord from the tree and with it trailing behind me I hurried to the girl. She dropped on a log, her face a white mask of terror. Cousin’s sister remained a few paces behind her. Her face was expressionless, but she did not remove her gaze from Patricia. Perhaps Patsy was the first white woman she had seen whose freshness suggested her own youth. Recognizing my desire to talk with the prisoner she withdrew, keeping in sight but out of hearing.
“At least they have not tied you,” I said.
“I go and come as I will,” was the listless answer.
“With the woman to watch you?”