“I pray that he may; but tell me, girl, how you escaped the other night, and why I have believed Ahdeek dead.”
“The red man’s bullet did not strike Clearwater’s heart, and while they chased White Tiger and my white sister, he came where his dead bird lay, scalped the dead braves, and bore her here. Clearwater should live for Ahdeek, the Great Spirit says, and she is growing strong now, and she will soon be on her feet again. The young braves lied,” she resumed, after a long pause. “They say they burn Ahdeek; they ’fraid to tell Hondurah and the old men that they let the enemy escape. Ahdeek run faster than Chippewa—they no catch him, the swift young deer of Gitche Gumee.”
Thus, in a few words, was the escape of Ahdeek and Clearwater explained by the latter.
Silver Rifle listened attentively, and related the story of the battle in her cave, and Ahdeek’s bravery.
“Ahdeek had red gash on his face when he came back to Clearwater,” said the Indian girl; “but he no tell her where he got it. He say tomahawk made it; but never say that White Tiger held the bad hatchet.”
“Girl, we must prepare for defense,” said Silver Rifle, recurring to the present. “The Indian who escaped will not permit us to lie here long unmolested. I know the Chippewas—you know them, too. He will not return alone; but if he finds fellow-braves in the forest, he will step upon the back trail, and Ahdeek will find a bloody cave when he returns.”
Silver Rifle’s words, so full of startling logic, aroused the chief’s daughter.
“Silver Rifle load Indian guns, quick!” she said, commandingly. “Mossuit may return before we breathe six times, and he must meet bullets when he crawls through yon hole.”
The white girl sprung with alacrity to the task before her. She loaded the six rifles that lay scattered about the cave, and placed them within reach of her red sister.
Clearwater smiled as she examined the locks, and raised one of the weapons, to show Silver Rifle that she was strong enough to handle it.