A disc of whitish colour came before his eyes. There was something in the water, carried along rapidly. It was the drapery of a woman’s dress, and a woman’s form was within it!
The young chief stayed not for further scrutiny; but plunging into the flood, and swimming a few strokes, he threw his arms around it.
And he knew that in his arms he held Alice Rody! In a few seconds after her form lay dripping upon the bank, apparently lifeless!
Chapter Forty Three.
Saved! Saved!
Wacora had saved his white captive. She still lived!
The struggle between life and death had been long and doubtful, but life at length triumphed.
Por days had she lingered upon the verge of existence, powerless to move from her couch; scarce able to speak. It was some time before she could shape words to thank her deliverer, though she knew who it was.