A slight exclamation of joy followed.
“Gold Feather’s mouth is full of good news. The pale-faces who love the silver lilies are in the mountains! Can the pretty squaws be ready to run for the hills?”
“Oh, yes, at once!” they both cried.
“Can the white squaws strike down the guard, if he opposes the way?”
“Try me!” said Mabel, with sudden fierceness which showed how much she was willing to dare to escape.
“Then when you hear three owl-hoots, come forth, and Frontier Shack and myself will be near at hand for the rescue,” and with that the mysterious visitor glided away.
CHAPTER XII.
THE BLOW FOR FREEDOM.
A half-hour passed, of intense anxiety to both girls. Then they distinctly heard a noise again in the wigwam’s rear.
“Gold Feather is not able to take the girls out through the village. The guard sleeps soundly. Go forth; take his gun, and if he wakes not, make for the hills with soft steps. Gold Feather will guard the way.”
Parting the curtains, she peered out, but clouds obscured the stars, and the blackness of darkness brooded over the village like some monster eagle. The guard sat beside the door, half-asleep as it seemed, for his head had fallen between his knees, and his rifle lay on the ground.