"Why wouldn't it be better to join Wapi and his Indians?" he asked, remembering Brokaw's words.
"Because—they are afraid of Hauck," she replied quickly. "There is but one way, Sakewawin—to follow a narrow trail Tara and I have made, close to the foot of the range, until we come to the rock mountain. Shall we risk the bundle on Tara's back?"
"It is light. I will carry it."
"Then give me your hand, Sakewawin."
There was again in her voice the joyous thrill of freedom and of confidence; he could hear for a moment the wild throb of her heart in its exultation at their escape, and with her warm little hand she gripped his fingers firmly and guided him into a sea of darkness. The forest shut them in. Not a ray fell upon them from out of the pale sky where the stars were beginning to glimmer faintly. Behind them he could hear the heavy, padded footfall of the big grizzly, and he knew that Baree was very near. After a little the Girl said, still in a whisper:
"Does your head hurt you now, Sakewawin?"
"A bit."
The trail was widening. It was quite smooth for a space, but black.
She pressed his fingers.
"I believe all you have told me," she said, as if making a confession. "After you came to me in the cage—and the fight—I believed. You must have loved me a great deal to risk all that for me."