“The spies of the accursed Black Snake hunt for the pale flower; they have pierced the fair one’s lover with their balls, but Wacomet saved her and the Briton and they are here till the coming of another night.”
“And they shall go, then?”
“Yes, Wacomet swears it; when the stars sleep and shine again, they shall go.”
Then the outlaw drew Ewana aside, and for a few moments they conversed in low tones.
“Guard the prisoners well until I return,” said Wacomet, in a tone loud enough to reach the captives’ ears, at length, “and at the first show of attempts at escape, shoot them down, like dogs.”
Then, satisfied that he had dissipated Ewana’s jealousies, and that all would go on swimmingly at the cave until his return, the Ottawa glided off to join his comrades in their search for the young She-wolf.
Ewana proceeded to bind the captives’ feet with deer-thongs, and made them separate couches between which she sat, and again resumed the arranging of her hair.
In the silence which followed, Effie St. Pierre, tired and sore, fell back on the pillow of mink-skins, stuffed with the small soft feathers of the river snipe, and soon was fast asleep. Her last thoughts were that the Girl Avenger and Kenowatha would read her writing on the wall when they returned, and would give no rest to their feet until she was snatched from Wacomet’s hands.
The thoughts and condition of Major Runnion were far different from those of the hopeful girl.
Contrary to her, he did not close his eyes, nor did he lie down upon the skinny couch. For many minutes he occupied a half-reclining position, studying Ewana as she arranged her hair. When he had arrived at a certain conclusion, he gently whispered the Shawnee girl’s pretty cognomen.