“That remains tew be seen, ole smut-face,” retorted the trapper. “I ’spect ter hev the pleasure of scalpin’ ye yit.”
The Indian glared at him with a look of ferocity and rage, which was intensified by the cool, mocking smile with which the prisoner regarded him.
“What yer goin’ ter do with me?” asked Wild Nat, as he saw them preparing to move.
“Long-knife will see. He shall die,” was the reply.
He was placed on a horse, his hands tied behind him, his feet lashed together, and surrounded by his captors on every side. The Indians then began moving away to the west.
“Blast it all,” growled the trapper to himself, “this is a purty fix tew be in. I’d like tew know how in thunder they got so clus ’ithout my seein’ ’em. I know they wasn’t—hello! that explains it!”
The incensed trapper gazed about in bewilderment. Directly on the left was a narrow, swale-like hollow, which was completely concealed by the tall grass of the plain, until directly upon it.
“Thar’s whar ye skulked, is it, ole leather-chops?” he exclaimed. “Thought ye’s smart, didn’t yer? I’d like tew snatch ye all bald-headed.
“How in thunder did it happen that I never see that place afore?” he continued to himself. “I sw’ar, I thought I’d tramped over every inch of plain about here. No use in growlin’; but if I ever git away, I’ll bet they’ll wish they’d died when they war young!”
The Indians traveled steadily forward, and about the middle of the afternoon, reached a high cliff in the Rocky Mountains, at the base of which they halted, and began making some preparations that puzzled Wild Nat considerably. He was not long kept in doubt as to their intentions.