And there was the other thought—revenge over his enemies in early life—those by whose tyranny and persecution he had been driven forth to find a home, and along with it honour, among the red men of the wilderness.
His fiendish spirit felt sweet joy, thus revelling in revenge; and as he rode back toward the camp, where he knew his victims awaited him, he might have been heard muttering to himself:
“They shall serve me, as I have served them. And she who is called my sister—she shall be my slave!”
Chapter Twenty Four.
Finale.
The sun was already close down to the summit of the sierra, when the Yellow Chief and his followers once more surmounted the ridge that brought them in sight of the encampment.
Although the daylight was still lingering around them, the little glen and the gap leading into it were obscured under the purple shadows of approaching night.
There was light enough left for the Indian horsemen to distinguish the salient features of the scene. They could see the various groupings of their prisoners, with their comrades standing sentry over them; the white men on one side; the women near; and on the opposite edge of the valley, the sable crowd, some seated, some standing, in all respects apparently as they had parted from them when starting on the pursuit of Clara Blackadder.