Regarding their absence he questioned a Shawnee, who walked at his side.
“The squaws are at the trees,” was the reply, “and there, too, stand all the warriors, waiting to see the captives die.”
The band was near Alaska’s lodge, when, suddenly, the yelp of a wolf, quickly followed by a human voice, half-shriek—half-groan, fell distinctly upon the ears of all.
“That means something,” whispered Hewitt to the young hunter, and in the darkness Oonalooska’s finger pressed the giant’s shoulder.
The strange cry caused the renegade to start, and he and the Prophet exchanged fearful glances.
A moment later the captives were hurried forward on a run!
CHAPTER X.
THE FATE OF WELL-LAID PLANS.
“Newaska is welcome to Alaska’s lodge,” and the mad queen smiled as she led the young sub-chief to a couch of skins. “A moon has faded since he darkened Alaska’s door and her children have looked a long time for him in vain. See how glad they are to meet him!”
The brave stroked the shaggy backs of the animals that gathered around, manifesting signs of joy at his return, and the Wolf-Queen looked admiringly on.
“When do the pale-faces die?” asked Alaska.