CHAPTER VIII.
IN THE INDIAN VILLAGE.
What the outlaw called safety was for himself and the Indians alone, and far from it for poor Lucille.
He believed that the three fords were guarded still, that he might run upon a scouting party from the soldiers’ camps at any moment, and he did not feel at ease until he had crossed the river with his captive.
It was bold in him to venture so near the upper ford, believing a party of soldiers to be there, yet he knew that the wild nature of the country through which the river flowed above would keep him from crossing for many a long mile, and, for Lucille’s sake alone, to his credit be it said, he wished to cross by the unknown ford, though, strictly speaking, it was not a ford, but a place where a horse or man might get over by swimming.
Lucille had escaped getting wet in crossing, and, as before, was given a secluded camping place to herself.
The chief made it most comfortable, as there was no hurry now, by cutting pine boughs and building a wikiup and placing the pine straw as a couch, with the cushions from the coach upon it.
A little fire was built near, just to make it more homelike, the chief said, and an extra supper was prepared for all.