For the hand was that of a white man!
Ahdeek sprung to pick it up, and, as he stooped, four rifles flashed on the top of the cliff above them!
CHAPTER XIII.
A BLOW FOR A BLOW.
Silver Rifle, blinded by the flashes, started back; but the next moment she cocked her gun and sprung with Ahdeek, who, fortunately, had escaped injury, into the mouth of the cave!
“The Chips no shoot good,” smiled the half-breed, trying to catch a glimpse of their foes at the risk of his life. “They heard Ahdeek comin’ through the wood, so they wait for him on bank, an’ shoot at him; not to kill, but to hurt. But, Silver Rifle, where pale hand?”
“I have it, thank Heaven!” said the girl, in tones of satisfaction; “the ring is at last in my possession. Ahdeek, whose hand is it, and how came it in your power?”
“Ahdeek not tell pale girl story now,” was the half-breed’s response. “He say he find both in the wood—so he did; let that answer satisfy her now. He tell all by ’m by.”
The dead hand lay in the pouch that hung by our heroine’s side, and while they guarded the entrance to the cave, she tried to slip the ring from the icy finger. But her efforts were unrealized; the finger clung to the bauble; it pressed it tightly against the palm, and ceasing her labors, she looked up at Ahdeek, whose eyes met hers in the dim starlight.
“Hand hold to ring,” he said, with a faint smile. “Ahdeek take it off by ’m by. He find trapper’s girl at last. Pretty soon he go an’ dig up what Snowbeard buried.”
“What do you mean, chief?” said Silver Rifle, eagerly, excitedly. “Your words are clothed in mystery.”