This is what Weeping Leaf said to herself.
The sounds before her told her that safety lay in the route that stretched in the opposite direction.
“Heaven guide my feet!” she fervently cried.
A shrill bugle blast at her very side almost lifted her from the ground.
With a cry of horror she turned and saw Mouseskin on his knees, blowing with all his might.
The sight decided the soldier's daughter.
“I am not free with that Indian here!”
The next moment she sprung upon the boy with the intention to do or die, and pushed him back.
At the same time she snatched the silver bugle from his lips, and struck him heavily with the singular weapon.
“Now I am free!” she cried, and still clinging to the bugle-horn, she turned from the scene, and ran beyond the cordon of wigwams.