The Indian may be treacherous in many respects, but he will die in support of his peculiar institution, and the pleased villain knew that their superstitious faith secured them to him much more strongly than money could have done if their services had been hired.
He could speak their tongue quite well, and he now advanced to the chieftain and took him by the hand.
“Brother,” he said, “I have no desire to take away any of your power, but as I am now situated, I ask that you will aid me if you can.”
“Brother,” returned Black Arrow, “I can but repeat what my braves have said to you from their hearts.”
“Thanks,” returned Van Dorn, and then he turned and waved his hand over the kneeling braves.
“Arise,” he said, solemnly; “I accept your noble offer as it is given. The great chief paid for the service I rendered him when he marked me with the totem belt, for now in my hour of need, I can call on faithful hearts for aid. I had a white prisoner, a mere boy, and he was taken from me as you know by that wonderful black rider when the buffaloes were fighting around me. I must have that prisoner again, and without your help I might not be able to recover him. I want to lead you on the trail of that black rider.”
“We will follow,” was the response, as the braves arose to their feet.
Billy Blossom came walking up to the fortunate Van Dorn.
“Well, Mr. Hardscrabble,” he began, holding out his hand, “I must say as how you hev completely knocked me silly with what you’ve did. By the way, what in thunder is your name? Hardscrabble is not exactly the cheese now.”
“My name is Van Dorn.”