It was Gold Feather.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE SWOOP OF THE AVENGER.
“Gold Feather is here. Is the chief angry with him that he should put the warriors on his track?”
“Yes,” he cried; “why did Gold Feather ride to the mountains, and meet the pale-faces in the shadows of the crags? Let him speak the truth, for Tarantulah knows all.”
“Gold Feather’s skin is white,” was the firm reply, “and when he accidentally met the pale-faces among the hills, his heart went out to them, and he resolved to help them, even against the Pawnee king.”
“Then Gold Feather told the trapper where Kenoagla slept?”
“Yes.”
“Traitor!” hissed Tarantulah; “the Apaches shall mete out a terrible punishment to the dog that betrays.”
With yells a score of Indians set to work to plant another stake, which operation was completed in a short space of time, and the young traitor was quickly lashed thereto.
“This is quite a change of fortune, Shackelford,” said the renegade, approaching the trapper, and facing him with a devilish leer. “I guess I will not go to Fort Kearney with you. I am quite content here.”