By constant petting from the hour that he became hers, Black Hawk had been won, and the intractable, fiery creature, who had hitherto spurned all control but Wycoff's, readily yielded to Little Wolf's guiding hand. The sagacious creature had exhibited no little pride in bearing off his precious burden under the eye of his old master. His new mistress glorying in her power over him bade him forward and without a suspicion of danger, entered the fatal pass.
In a moment they were opposite Hank's hiding place, who concentrating all his energies, made a cat-like spring and caught at Black Hawk's bridle.
To sheer off, rear high in the air, and plant his fore foot right into the would-be-murderer's brain, was a feat performed without a sign from Little Wolf, who sat like one paralyzed, while Black Hawk in a fury trampled their assailant under his feet. She saw Hank's ghastly face and flaxen ringlets go down, and she saw his life blood spurting far over the pure white snow, and the next instant she was borne swiftly away from the terrible scene.
For some little time Black Hawk had it all his own way, and they were far out on the main traveled road to Pendleton before Little Wolf made an effort to check his speed. But suddenly she drew the rein with no gentle hand.
They had overtaken a lady and gentleman, who were riding leisurely, evidently quite absorbed in each other's society. One quick, searching glance revealed the parties to Little Wolf; and she curled her lip in scorn, as she saw those attentions which Edward had so lately lavished upon herself, now given to Clara Hastings.
Well might Edward start and strain his eyes after the retreating figure to which the loud clatter of hoofs had called his attention, for fleeing fast away was one in whose true heart, he had planted still another arrow, which would there rankle long, spite of the vow of eternal forgetfulness even then upon her proud lips.
In order to avoid "The Pass," and its horrors, Little Wolf took a circuitous route home. She emerged from the wild, unbroken path through the forest just as Wycoff was begining to feel seriously uneasy at her prolonged absence.
He eagerly caught at the bridle, "I was afraid Black Hawk had been playing pranks," he said, patting the animal's neck: "Why, here's blood upon the beast; I guess he's got rubbed agin a tree. It wan't exactly safe to come that way, anyhow, but girls will be girls, there's a natural tendancy in 'em to go into crooked ways," and Wycoff laughed, as he thought that he had perpetrated a good joke, and looked at Little Wolf as if he expected her too appreciate it.
"It is Mr. Glutter's blood," gasped Little Wolf, "he attempted to stop us in the Pass, and Black Hawk trampled upon him."
"Oh! that's it, eh?" said Wycoff. "A knowing critter, that. He's got the instincts of a woman, and I ain't sure but he knows as much as a man. Well, I hope Hank is dead, anyhow."