At this juncture the quick, heavy tread of moccasined feet was heard approaching, and the next moment Mahaska drew near with the dripping form of Clara Bryant in his arms.
“Is she dead, chief?” asked Old Tumult.
“No,” responded the chief, “but she is unconscious.”
“Thank God!” cried Town.; then bending low to the dying woman, he said:
“She lives, Madge.”
The woman made no reply, but there was a rattling in her throat—a convulsive stiffening of the limbs and body. Then there was a relaxing of the muscles, that told of the separation of the soul and body—that Madge Taft was dead.
Town. laid the lifeless body gently down, and then went and assisted Old Tumult and Mahaska in restoring Clara to life.
The fall and the effects of the water together had proven a terrible shock to the maiden, and for awhile her life was despaired of. But, at last, she began to recover.
By this time all of Mahaska’s warriors had gathered at the lake ready for work, but in consequence of the escape of the captives, the attack was postponed.
As Clara would be unable to travel before morning, dispositions were made for passing the night by the lake, Mahaska and his warriors taking the safety of the party into their own hands.