“Quick,” I cried to him, “or we are lost! Jump upon the trader’s horse.”
My word recalled him from the frenzy of passion which had absorbed every faculty of heart and brain.
The horse had stood quietly during the struggle, as his old training had taught him; the trader’s gun lay at his feet. To seize the gun from the ground and spring into the vacant saddle was the work of an instant, and ere the headmost braves were quite upon us, we were off at headlong speed towards the north; one arrow quivering through the flesh of my right leg, and two or three others hurtling harmlessly around us. Twenty seconds more, and our fleet horses had carried us out of range.
[CHAPTER XVI.]
Revulsion—Home again—New plans—We depart for the mountains—The Hand hills—The great range—Home memories—A murderous volley—Donogh sees “the land beyond the grave”—Vain regrets—We enter the mountains—The island—A lonely grave—The Indian’s home.
We rode hard for a couple of hours. I led the way towards the place where, on the previous evening, I had left my three horses. Long ere we reached it, the Sircies had abandoned their pursuit, and turned back towards their camp. Now we had time to talk over the past. For many hours that morning, and all the previous night, I had been moving as though in a dream. During the past two hours I seemed to have lived an age; there had been moments of agony so acute, that my brain reeled when I thought over them. But now all was past; the long night of doubt and captivity was over, and the fair morning of hope and freedom shone full upon us.
My heart soon answered the helm of such thoughts, and my spirits rose in unison with them. Not so with the Sioux. The abstraction of the flight seemed to be still upon him; for a long time he rode on, looking vacantly before him. Once or twice I spoke to him, but he did not seem to hear what I said. At length he roused himself and spoke.
“If you had ever said to me that one day I should have had that man within my grasp, and that I would have failed to take his life, I would have told you that it was impossible. And yet,” he went on, “it is better that he should still live. Had he fallen at the hands of another, my father’s spirit would have remained unavenged.”