All day long she thus rested, waking but once or twice; but late in the afternoon she was aroused by a rough touch on her arm. Starting up, she beheld the Panther bending over her, and several other Indians standing near!
Once more a prisoner!
The chief took her up without a word, and placed her on a mustang, which he evidently had brought for her use. Thus mounted, they started toward the village, the other Indians following at some distance on foot. The Panther made no remark, but he kept his hand on her bridle-rein.
They rode slowly for some distance. The wretched maiden had not uttered a word, and seemed to be totally passive. The Panther congratulated himself on his easy success. But, while Marion was silent, she was not unnerved. True, she was almost in despair, but she resolved that she would not go back to the village. Yet, how to escape?
While she was revolving the matter in her mind, the Indians behind got into some kind of a dispute, which attracted the Panther’s attention. Halting, he for a moment dropped the rein and began to talk to them. Taking advantage of his inattention, Marion suddenly raised her deer-thong whip and struck her horse a stinging blow. The enraged animal started off like a shot.
The savages behind, in their hot anger did not stop their dispute, until the chief yelled furiously at them, which he did in a very menacing manner. Seeing there was no likelihood of overtaking his charge, he called out to the others to shoot her horse, himself setting the example.
Meantime Marion, with the courage born of desperation, was urging her horse forward in the deep twilight of the woods, when a shower of bullets flew like hail around her. One, more steadily aimed than the others, struck her steed, and he fell beneath her. Springing off, as she felt him sinking, she darted forward into the thickest of the undergrowth, the fearful yells of the savages making her blood curdle.
As she worked her way forward in the thicket, she caught a glimpse, as she passed it, of a large cottonwood, growing within a small clump of bushes. Into this cover she drew herself. To her great surprise, she discovered a small opening in the giant tree. It was so nearly hidden as to be almost invisible. It appeared large enough to afford a retreat, and she hastily wedged herself in it, arranging the little clump of surrounding bushes so as to entirely hide it.
She had barely done so when the Indians burst into the opening, and ran whooping and yelling in every direction around the tree, and passing so close that Marion trembled lest the loud throbbing of her heart should betray her.
The savages beat the bushes all around, and for some distance in advance, of course without success. The constantly deepening darkness made every minute add to her security. In a half-hour’s time the savages were gone. Waiting awhile, she at length, with excessive caution, ventured out, and hurried away from the spot as fast as possible. After walking about three miles she came to the edge of the plain. It was very dark, and afar off she heard the howl of the wolves. She shuddered lest the fierce animals should get on her track. There was but little light from the stars, but shaping her course by the little there was, she went wearily on. She was getting fearfully tired, and feeling almost as if she did not care whether she lived or died, when she caught sight of a small light, apparently a couple of miles distant. It was evidently the camp-fire of some one, but whether of friend or savage foe she could not tell.