“Wind Flower has concealed my horse in the glen beyond?” he asked, finding that his protestations were not without effect.
“Perhaps it was stolen and is now far away!”
“I know it is in the glen beyond.”
He walked on into the glen, and there found not only his own horse, but the one which the Indian girl had ridden. When he returned he brought both with him.
Wind Flower sat on a stone, regarding the white girl distrustfully, while the latter was appealing to her with a multiplicity of words and gestures.
“We will go on together,” said Lightfoot, speaking to the Indian girl. “Why is Wind Flower here, so far from the village?”
“The chief sees the bow and the arrows on my horse,” she answered. “I hunted the deer, and he came in this direction, so that I followed. Then I found the horse of the young chief, and from the top of the hill I saw the young chief and his prisoner.”
“We will go on together,” he repeated.
He turned his horse about and commanded Lena Forest to mount to its back. Then he walked beside the horse, leading it, while the Indian girl, assisting herself to the back of her own animal, rode at his side.
Lena Forest was buoyed somewhat with hope, since meeting this Indian girl; she believed that one of her own sex, even though an Indian, would be less heartless than a Blackfoot warrior.