Lovingly they put forth their arms for an embrace; but the distance was too great for them to feel heart beat against heart. Tom Kyle saw this and rode nearer Wolf Eyes.
“There, Lina, embrace your friend,” he said, softly, lifting his captive forward. “God knows I wouldn’t deprive you of such happiness at this hour. I thought Wolf Eyes far away from this spot, and I expected to meet the Old Harry here as much as the chief.”
The girls encircled each others’ necks, and mingled their tears—tears of joy at meeting in the darkest hour of adversity, when not a hand was near to chase the clouds away, and show them the sun.
“I thought you were with the Sioux,” said Tom Kyle, addressing the chief, who watched the captives with a stoicism that proved him as devoid of feeling as a stone.
“When Wolf Eyes saw White Lasso fall, he knew that he dared not ride into the wigwams of the Sioux alone; so, he turned his horse’s head toward the Apaches’ land, and, behold! he has met his white brother journeying to the same place.”
“Yes,” answered the renegade. “The storm broke at last over my head, and for my life I had to fly. The Apaches have waited for me long; Tarantulah has sent me offer after offer, and I told him that, in the hour of need, I would fly to his lodge, and teach his people war, as I have taught the Pawnees. Oh, the rich haciendas I can ride through! Oh! the golden crosses I can snatch from gilded shrines!”
Wolf Eyes caught his king’s enthusiasm, and uttered an exclamation of joy.
“If Gold Feather still lived, Wolf Eyes would not ride to Apache land,” said the Indian, suddenly relapsing into seriousness again.
“Gold Feather is dead?”
“Yes,” and there was a flash in the midnight eyes. “Wolf Eyes found him wounded once on the banks of the Platte—wounded by a buffalo bull; and he tossed him into the water. The Manitou’s lights shone then, and Wolf Eyes saw his enemy sink to the swallowing sand. He rode toward the Pawnee lodges to slay Wolf Eyes, but the buffalo stretched him by the clear water.