It seemed like a dream to Tom. He found it very hard to realize his position, so unexpectedly had he been placed in it. He could not help wondering what the family at home would say when they should learn that he had joined an Indian tribe far beyond the Mississippi.
CHAPTER XXXI.
TOM GIVES A MAGICAL SOIREE.
Tom had no intention of passing his life with the Indians. In joining them he submitted to necessity. It gave him a respite, and a chance to devise plans of escape. He understood very well that, if he made the attempt and failed, his life would be the forfeit. But Tom determined to take the risk, though his life was sweet to him; but, of course, he must wait for a favorable opportunity.
There was a chance of his being rescued by his party, but this chance was diminished by the decision of his Indian captors to break camp, and proceed in a northerly direction, while the course of the emigrant train was, of course, westward. Little time was wasted. The Indians mounted their horses, Tom being put on the horse of the fallen brave. The leader put himself at the head, and Tom was placed in the center, surrounded by Indians. It was evident that they were not willing to trust him yet. They meant to afford him no chance of escape.
As the only one of the band with whom Tom could converse was the interpreter, who rode at the head with the chief, he rode in silence. The Indians on either side of him never turned their heads toward him, but, grave and impassive, rode on, looking straight before them.
"This is easier than walking," thought Tom; "but I would a hundred times rather walk with Scott, or Miles, than ride in my present company."
They rode for three hours, and then dismounted for the midday rest.
Nothing had been seen or heard of his old friends, and that made Tom anxious and thoughtful.