The recaptured captive, dragged back down the ravine, though with fearful apprehensions as to what was in store for him, had no longer any doubt as to the identity of him with whom he had to deal.
When the Cheyenne chief strode up to the waterfall; washed the paint from his face; and, then, turning towards the other captives, showed them the bright yellow skin of a mulatto, he was not taken by surprise.
But there was profound astonishment on the countenances of the negro captives; who, on recognising the freshly washed face, cried out as with one voice:
“Blue Dick!”
Chapter Fourteen.
The Rescuers.
While the savage scenes described were being enacted in the mountain valley, a band of horsemen was fast approaching it, making their way around the skirting spurs that at intervals protruded into the prairie.
It is scarce necessary to say that these were the trappers from Saint Vrains, nor to add that they were riding at top-speed—fast as the horses and mules on which they were mounted could carry them.