“Reckon they’ll find we’ve got our eye-teeth cut,” said Wild Nat, as he rammed down a bullet.
“Oh, golly,” sighed Scip, “I wish I war safe in the States. ’Tain’t no fun ’tall, to fight Injuns.”
“I wish we were safe out of here,” said Kent, with an involuntary glance at Marion.
“I’m with ye thar,” said Vic, emphatically. “Freeze me ef I ain’t.”
“I wouldn’t mind it so much ef ’twarn’t for the gal,” said Wild Nat, in a low tone, “tho’ in course, I hain’t enny hankerin’ tew starve in here. My motter is, ’plenty of br’iled buffler-hump, an’ onlimited liberty.’”
The Indians were evidently satisfied with their attempt, for they made no further movement. Dawn soon came, but brought no change to the imprisoned party. The day wore on, noon followed morning, and evening noon, as Kent’s watch showed; and still there was no change. Immured in the bowels of the mountain, afar in the vast wilderness, with no human being who knew of their situation, save their merciless foes outside, how could they hope for aught save death?
CHAPTER VIII.
THE LAST HOPE.
It was the morning of the fourth day since the Indians had discovered the cave. The beleaguered whites had repeatedly endeavored to reach the opening in the last cavern, and had dug a tunnel in two directions, but were stopped both times after going a short distance by immense rocks. Their food was very nearly consumed, in spite of the fact that they had placed themselves on limited rations.
Vic, Wild Nat and Scip were prowling about the various rooms, endeavoring for the hundredth time, to discover some mode of escape, while in the outer cavern Marion and Kent, sat engaged in conversation.
“I could meet death bravely for myself,” Kent was saying, “but for you to die in such a fearful manner, away in this wilderness—oh, my darling, it is so hard!”