The braves were quite gone; the last faint echo of their horses' hoofs had died away far down the pass, and the squaws and children, who had been watching their departure, scattered to their work or play.
Juanita sighed; then, with a shudder, "How many bloody scalps shall we see dangling aloft from their spears when they come back!" she said.
"Please God, we shall not be here to behold the horrible, sickening sight," said Rupert. Then taking her hand in his, "Juanita, you should be my wife before we start upon our journey."
She glanced up into his face half shyly, flushing rosy red. "But how can it be?" she asked timidly; "there is no priest here to unite us."
"We will marry ourselves by Friends' ceremony," he said; then explained it to her, for she had never heard of it before.
"I fear I shall not feel married," she remarked, in a tone of doubt and hesitation.
"I have the same feeling," he said, "particularly because we have no witnesses. But it is the best we can do now, and as soon as we can we will be remarried by a minister.
"Juanita," tightening his clasp of her hand, "I take you to be my wife, and promise to be to you a true, faithful, and loving husband till death do us part."
The beautiful eyes filled with glad tears. "And I," she said, in low, musical tones, "take you, Rupert, to be my lawful and wedded husband, and promise to be to you a true, loving, faithful, and obedient wife."